I read the wonderful Bangalore Blue last month by Steven Carvalho. I was so delighted by the nostalgia it evoked that I have been recommending this to anyone I know who loves Bangalore. First, it was my sister. And then, I gave it to my Dad. My father doesn’t read anything apart from a newspaper.
Many years ago, on this day, I came home from school to find a crowd in front of my house. As I got out of my friend’s Ambassador car, my stomach churned. Surely, this gathering could not be a friendly family get-together. It wasn’t. As I was about to open the gate, my sister’s sister-in-law
On 9.02.09, I wrote the below poem. I try and think why I wrote this. I don’t know. I can’t remember. Just like that, I am reminded of the frailty of memories. Yesterday, I was talking to a beautiful friend of mine. We ended up discussing some of our travel escapades. We laughed when we
Yesterday, while I was on the Namma Metro, I was trying to read. The book was a crime novel and I was immersed in the details of a decapitated head when the train stopped at a station. Now, I have been on many trains in different parts of the world. But the Bengaluru Metro is
I was clearing the Drafts I have in my Gmail folders. I am a bit strange that way. I have kept Drafts from more than 10 years ago. I have used Gmail to just jot down words as they come to me and then forgotten all about it. When my mind is restless, I turn
Last evening, it rained heavily in Bangalore. The rain cast sweeping hues of melancholy on my car’s windshield until I stopped and got out of the car, embracing its sweep. Melancholy can serve a twin purpose – it can push you to the darkest corners of your soul, or it can also sweep the darkest
A few weeks ago, I was contemplating going to Dharamshala for my year-end vacation. I looked at flights and guesthouses to stay in before changing my mind. I changed my mind when I read that the Dalai Lama rarely gives public talks these days. When I read that the monk has cut down on his
I smiled when I saw the prompt for today. This photo of mine was taken in Edinburgh, Scotland in November this year. I was with a much-loved friend after a long time. It was cold but I was warm inside. We had ice cream. And I smiled from my heart.
Nine more days to go before this year draws to a close. Over the years, I have tried to spend New Year’s Eve in a new place. I have watched fireworks in Kuala Lumpur and Kathmandu. I have seen the night sky draped with stars in Jordan’s Wadi Rum. I have watched Hong Kong put
In February this year, I quit my job. At that time, the CEO to whom I reported to asked me if I could leave a little later. As hard as it is for me to stay no, I said no. “I want to see being without the steadiness of a corporate job affects me,” I