Tag: bangalore

Vignettes of Smiles

I went running yesterday evening. I take the same route every day. There is something of the routine that calms my mind. I don’t like running. Especially not after a grueling strength workout in the morning. I don’t like running and yet I run every day. I am not supposed to run with a bad

Why I Quit My Job To…

The other day I happened to read this article. The post was wise, looked at reality, and made me think. But what the post also had was a fair extent of bitterness. It might make a person with fewer wings think less of flying. Don’t be that person, I thought after reading the post. These

Bok Choy And Memories

I found some fresh bok choy in the local grocery store and I was immediately taken back to many a dinner and lunch in restaurants from the north, south, east, and west of China. All these years. I remembered the texture, the flavor of garlic and ginger. Just gentle garlic and ginger and the rich,

Bangalore’s Hidden Gems: Harohalli’s Proud Past

I stay in one of Bangalore’s more recently developed ‘IT hubs.’ The area there is chaotic. The air an unfiltered hell of poison. The people speak to me in Hindi more often than not. Traffic is not the word you can use to describe a 1,000 vehicles trying to squeeze past each other in a

No Words

I have no words to share Just some colors Flowers Petals Weeds On a Sunday of No Words  

Running On

Tomorrow is the  TCS World 10k marathon. Many years ago, I started my love for running with the then Sunfeast marathon. I took the easy 5K or rather I think it was called the Open 5k. I had hardly prepared and I didn’t know what a good time was. I was determined though to never

Of Animals and Insects

Today was a day that didn’t feel like a run. I woke up, needing sleep, craving sleep. I had skipped running yesterday and had instead done some yoga. Today was a no-skip day. It took a while, but eventually I made it. I usually go to a wooded area nearby. There are coconut trees and

The Buddha Insect

It was one of those hot afternoons that blazed with heat. Just finishing lunch, I was walking back to my workplace, on the phone. That’s when I saw him. Assured. Seemingly at peace in the scorching sun. He was still. I moved closer, angling my phone’s camera lens. He doesn’t flinch. It’s almost like he

The Patron Saint of Lost Things and Lost People

It’s noon. Blistering heat. I have crawled through 15km of relentless traffic to reach Museum Road. I bargain with a security guard and park the car in an office parking lot. The roads all around Museum Road and St. Mark’s Road are a trekker’s paradise. You would have to navigate past slushy pools lying dormant