Somehow salty tea always reminds me of this saccharine sweet, a-tad-too-sentimental SMS forward: a guy takes a pretty girl on a date and he is so nervous he asks the waiter for salt in his coffee. When she looks askance, he says it reminds him of the saltiness in the sea near his childhood home.ContinueContinue reading “A cup of tea, all nice and buttery”
Category Archives: Features
To poetry and all things sublime
Our poetry is the last dreamy song sung in haste by a head on the rails listening to the rumble of the approaching train before the steel crushes its thought. – Farewell, by K. Satchidanandan I take up poetry with a little trepidation. Prose is easier, it is all there, marked down into tidy slots;ContinueContinue reading “To poetry and all things sublime”
Child abuse: Starting a conversation
We got cable TV when I was around nine. Suddenly, SONY and StarPlus were being aired right to our homes, and with that, the 4 to 6 p.m. slot was booked for a bunch of American sit-coms from the ’80s: Small Wonder, Bewitched, Silver Spoons and Diff’rent Strokes. Even if the story line was flimsyContinueContinue reading “Child abuse: Starting a conversation”
A morning at the terrace
“What makes you truly happy?” Somebody posed this question to me once. It’s a question we should all have an answer to, a Happy Place where life seems a little easier. Eventually I decided on this: “The smell of earth after the first showers… and watching the sunrise from the terrace.” Well, there are monthsContinueContinue reading “A morning at the terrace”
Things are just things
So this is what comes of having too much stuff. We had a rat in our house some weeks ago, and got rid of it only after discovering it had destroyed much of my roommate’s luggage, which had been kept in the store room. I did a cursory check of my bags, decided they lookedContinueContinue reading “Things are just things”
The Booksellers of Brigade Road
Bangalore is no Dilli when it comes to old books. You don’t find hawkers selling yellowed paperbacks outside every gully and metro station. (Which is hardly a big deal, considering techno-wallon ka sheher has exactly six stations at the moment. :P) You’d be hard put to find something like the Daryaganj Sunday Book market here.ContinueContinue reading “The Booksellers of Brigade Road”
The “other” Nobel Prize contender
The Indian press heaved a collective sigh of regret when Malala Yousafzai did not win the Nobel Prize for Peace. Every newspaper and TV channel loves a good story, and Malala’s offered everything. A courageous girl ready to fight to death for her right to education, and a chance to gloat over Pakistan’s abysmal humanContinueContinue reading “The “other” Nobel Prize contender”
BLF-2013: A balmy afternoon and some book-time
Why do people visit lit fests? That was the question in my head as I stepped into the spacious lawns at Crowne Plaza, where the Bangalore Literature Festival 2013 was on in full swing. I walked into Mysore Park (Stage 1) in time to hear the moderator accusing William Dalrymple of being elitist. (Wonder how thatContinueContinue reading “BLF-2013: A balmy afternoon and some book-time”
My Body My Weapon
Kavita Joshi’s documentary ‘My Body My Weapon’ (2007) on Irom Sharmila’s relentless struggle for repealing the Armed Forces (Special Powers) Act, 1958. Ms. Sharmila is currently in the thirteenth year of her fast. (Source: http://kavitajoshi.blogspot.in)
For Ammoma
“Get a cup of tea for Unni,” she said. I checked the flask. It was empty. I had only brought two cups from the canteen anyway. “There’s no tea.” Two minutes later, Ammoma repeated her request, only more earnestly. “Jayasree, get some tea for Unni.” Jaya aunty walked to the counter, poured a glass ofContinueContinue reading “For Ammoma”
Marketing strategy for deep tech companies 