Where do stories come from? Mostly from the places babies come from. Birds, bees and angels. But far too much credit is given to alternate/inebriated states of mind, solitude and staring at mountains; far too less to people around us. Sometimes, people are tools that you open cans of stories with. Sometimes, people are the cans of stories. We put the people we meet through the steps to see how much they hold, turn them sideways, upside down, claw at the corners to get every…Continue Reading “Where do stories come from?”
This is not a thought. This is a question. After being called a foodie at family gatherings over the weekend, I have come to resent the term. But what choice do we have? Let me outline a few and try to define: Foodie: this term is too generic. Usually, used for anyone who loves food and may be, takes photos. Given the rampant usage, it has also come to refer to someone with a mucked up cerebrum and eats compulsively. This guy does not necessarily…Continue Reading “Foodie Vs. Food Reviewer vs. Food Critic vs. Food Writer”
Life, as much as carefree living, is also a constant process of setting priorities. When you are a child, it could be between watching the cartoon show or going out to play. When you grow up, the parameters change and multiply a little. Friends vis a vis family, people you want to know vis a vis people who know you, career with money or passion with a little less of it, love of one vs. affections of many, life with a partner and kids vs….Continue Reading “The better man”
To be able to write one often needs to amplify things up, see them from up close, step back to see the context and change perspectives just to be sure that you have not got it all wrong. The constant to and fro does a little something inside your head. Nothing is pure, nothing is sacrosanct. Everything close looks dispensable from a distance and everything far seems a little more desirable. Anyway, the point being that in one’s constant attempts to gain perspective, one forever…Continue Reading “Sense and sanity”
Some may think it’s too late but thirties are the best times to approach the concept of love with at least a small amount of sanity. Between the platonic, transcendental idea of love in the twenties and the predominantly sexual one (or, so I assume) of the forties, thirties are the times when you can think of love as both physical and spiritual without being torn apart. It’s the thirties when stop deifying the idea and begin to understand it in all its complexity –…Continue Reading “Thirties’ love”
BJP’s loss in Delhi was massive. Not in terms of seat count or vote share. It was massive because BJP suddenly went from usurper to establishment, from one who overthrew the regime to becoming the regime. A year back Modi was seen as the new force that overthrew the century old structure. By the time Delhi elections were over, Kejriwal was being seen as the new force that stopped the Modi juggernaut. So, the biggest loss of BJP was in terms of losing mind space…Continue Reading “What BJP really lost in Delhi”
There is nothing romantic about a few ideas. But selecting reading at an impressionable age can set you rolling fast on the wrong path. Let me not pluck names from the universe but name ones I grew up with. Oscar Wilde was jailed and died at 46. Not quite young. Rimbaud died at 37, after his leg was amputated and suffering great pain. Our very own Vivekananda, whom most of us have read while growing up, died at 39. Sylvia Plath struggled with depression and…Continue Reading “On Untimely Death”
Barack after returning home seems to have decided to put in a few words that can’t be bent and molded as his speech in Siri Fort were. Some of us, never tired of being hurt and offended, have felt a lot of anger again. But here is why Barack was right in making his observations public and here are a few lessons. Geopolitics and PR exercises are different things: Narendra would like us to believe otherwise, but sheer personal connect has never affected geopolitical calculations…Continue Reading “Why Barack’s recent comments on India are welcome”
I know we generally don’t talk about politics here. We live in a beautiful world of good food, travel , malls and restaurants. But I didn’t start this blog to entertain you. So, while I have done enough of entertainment, the time, now, is to talk about something more important – the Delhi elections. I am going to vote for Aam Admi Party. I did not vote for them last time. But this time, I will. Here are a few reasons why: 1. The party…Continue Reading “5 reasons why I am voting for Aam Admi Party”
When you catch a dream, you suffer from hyperactivity, restlessness, sleeplessness, hallucinations and delusions of power. State of feverishness are normal, periods of excitement and depression alternate and loss of touch with reality is expected. Unlike the way we have always believed, dreams are not gifts. They are like a virus. By themselves, they won’t survive. They need a carrier, a host as it is said in medical world. You are perfectly normal until you catch a dream, then you show the symptoms mentioned above….Continue Reading “When you catch a dream”
2.11 am. The night of 25th January. It was drizzling outside in Delhi. My phone rang, a call from my uncle who was in Koliatha to tend to my ailing grandfather. I have written about my grandpa a couple of times, many who have never met him, think I am influenced by him. Anyway, the uncle kept silent. I should have understood. But we had never agreed on a code of silence. So, it was appropriate for me to ask him matter of factly “what’s…Continue Reading “In fierce memory of my great grandfather”
Everything on the internet is free. So, I never watermark anything I put up. People should naturally give credit. Nothing changed when I put up this photo I took at the Chilika lagoon in Odisha yesterday. I put it up and forgot all about it. Until my wife came running from the other room. Seems someone had claimed it. Soon, it was tweeted by MP Jay Panda, Irfan Habib, Milind Deora and had started quite a debate about Odisha tourism. Here is the link to…Continue Reading “When someone steals your photo”
I have a Muslim relative. Works in a very large, very well know MNC. Been there for 20 years. Now at a very senior position. Known for mild manners and working on Sundays he had a steady growth. All was well until a couple of months back. Then the conversations began. Everyone talked politics at lunch. Together. Then they started to talk in groups. Less and less at lunch. Not all conversations were hostile, but they were exclusive. The love jihad, the conversions, the Hindus…Continue Reading “The Muslim Colleague”
One purpose of being on social media is to rage when no one is. The other purpose is to pacify when everyone else is. After Sydney, Belgium, Manipur and Peshawar in less than 48 hours, most people have categorically stated that the world is its worst and humanity is at its nadir. Precisely why, I decided to point out why despite all the terrorism etc, these are the best times for the human species. 1. Global outrage itself is a new phenomenon – Earlier global…Continue Reading “The World Is A Better Place”
I took a walk through Old Delhi with nearly two dozen people. Almost all Hindus. We walked through a Muslim neighbourhood, enjoyed food cooked by muslims, were served by muslims and had meat that is prohibited by our religion. Then how come most of us “normal” people drift so far when it comes to political opinion? All through history, large masses of people have behaved like frogs on slow boil. During the most transformational times, most people don’t realise their role in the slow march…Continue Reading “India, today”
The ecology will take care of itself. Or, god will. You should have burst a few crackers. You should have stared that street urchin in the eye. Told him it’s not you who brought him to this world. You should not have made that donation if you didn’t want to. It may not look so, but your life is no less of a struggle. Don’t be reluctant. Tell your conscience to shut up. You started where they did. Instruct housekeeping to change your linen. The…Continue Reading “A little less reverent”
I watched Haider. Most of you may have, already. Fantastic and bold movie. No? But I walked angry and felt betrayed. Not by the story, but by the storytelling. Vishal Bharadwaj may not have compromised on the content of the movie, but he definitely did on the methods used. Please explain what was the role of the Salman-Salman in the movie? How was their being Salman copycats take the story further? A friend explained that they provided comic relief. First of all, it was mimic…Continue Reading “Watching Haider & Vishal’s betrayal”
May be, it is not the best time. May be, it is. May be, it will melt your chocolaty hearts and drive you to a donation page. Anyway, I have been trying to write about the kids I met on the Kashmir trip and today morning seems to be the perfect time. she had just three phrases in her vocabulary. “i will throw you out of the car”, “i will throw you out of the window” and “my father will beat you up”. She wasn’t…Continue Reading “My encounters with kids in Kashmir”
From the drawing room: Our first night in the house was our first night of marriage. Both significant, temporally important, but eventually, forgettable occurrences. Quite ironically and fatefully, I start writing this piece our last night in the house. It looks very much like the first one. The curtains have come down from the windows, and despite the five years of living, it does look unlived. Both anxious and expectant, entering a new house feels so much like entering a new relationship. Will it work…Continue Reading “In the memory of the house”
Not all of us grow with the same kinds of friends. Some of us had imaginary, absentee and perceived friendships. I had a seasonal one – with the rains. It might seem far fetched and fictional now, but it was quite real for me. All through my childhood and well into my adulthood. A compulsive loner, there wasn’t much that I wanted to tell others. Tiptoeing around people and conversations had become a habit and I excelled with practice. However, talking was a primordial need….Continue Reading “Memories of many monsoons”