On a quiet morning walk just before the Ganesh festival, a roadside stall of clay idols becomes the stage for a striking contrast. An affluent couple in neon activewear arrives by car to buy their Lord with careful deliberation, while an old man lugging a sack of scrap bottles pauses simply to smile. In that fleeting second, the question shifts: who really saw God, and what did God see?
A man finally gets the dream car he always wanted, only to discover that the city outside his gate is a very different kind of prison.
A personal journey back to Pune leads to an unexpected encounter with the memory of Pu La Deshpande—the writer and humorist who, through an old cassette gifted by a friend, helped me discover the beauty, wit and music of Marathi.
A dusty library, a book thrown across a room, and one unsuspecting teenager. That was how my forty-year captivity in the wonderfully goofy world of P. G. Wodehouse began.
A Sunday at Belfast’s St George’s Market reveals more than food, music and old brick walls. Among the aromas, laughter and bustling stalls, a conversation with a local farmer offers a reminder that, thousands of miles apart, the struggles of those who grow our food are remarkably similar.
Belfast Titanic Diary I have been taught the tricks to handle the weather by Christy the elderly concierge at the Hilton ( Read here ), and I now understand a part of this city’s glorious tryst with linen. I still…
A few years ago Belfast beckoned. I knew Northern Ireland mostly through fragments—newspaper reports of street violence during my college days, names like Gerry Adams and Bobby Sands. And football: Danny Blanchflower, Pat Jennings, George Best. Best especially, the maverick legend mentioned alongside Pelé and Maradona, whose airport now bears his name.(read a tribute to […]
The fisherman, the boats, the crows, the eagle and the restless sea are all playing their parts. I sit on the shore and watch, reminded that this is the eternal opera of life. The show must go on.
I cant seem to scroll through my feed without seeing someone interviewing the latest hero of a nation that seems to desperately needs heroes to keep it’s hopes alive. Mundhe, the name that is now all over the feeds. Whether Mundhe is able to carry his crusade without being clipped by the powerful lobbies remains […]
I have never been particularly fond of dogs. I don’t dislike them, but then I don’t love them either. However watching them and writing about them is fair game. This watching game can be fun. It’s always fun; all you…