April 22, 2017

26 Comments

Hangmen of April

Come April and I am awash with phone calls from friends and colleagues about how they fared in the annual performance appraisals. Certain lesions of the past rendered unmentionable on this blog due to reasons of propriety, have bestowed the robe of Agony Aunt upon me. I have come to consider the minor hurts and […]

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April 9, 2017

45 Comments

The Vegetable Rice Chef

Himesh is fussy about the order in which ingredients should be put into vegetable rice. Butter, followed by equal amount of mustard oil, cumin seeds, chopped chillies and onions, crushed ginger and garlic, minced mint and coriander leaves, a handful of shelled peas and diced tomatoes, soaked rice and the jazz. It is a weekly […]

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March 20, 2017

28 Comments

The Ark of Nostalgia

“I’m your phantom dance partner. I’m your shadow. I’m not anything more.” ~Haruki Murakami As if working for a bank weren’t traumatic enough, I am working for a subsidiary bank undergoing absorption in its parent. It is highly hypocritical of someone like me to feel mushy, I who for a frenzied bunch of years wanted the […]

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March 1, 2017

40 Comments

The Battle of Outer-Loo

It happened when I was eight or nine. What refreshed the memory this past month was the hurried confession of a rookie Australian batsman to his captain, as he scrambled for the loo, “When you need to go to the toilet, you need to go to the toilet.” They can’t come simpler than that, the […]

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February 19, 2017

52 Comments

Thus Spake My Father

As I look back at the life of my departed father, I realise how he had been a part of the transitional era that stood with a foot in the mysteries of the yore and the other into the increasingly scientific modernity. During his childhood, he had huddled with his siblings and grandparents around dimly […]

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February 10, 2017

58 Comments

A Passing Shower —A Review

My student life ended abruptly, or shall I say, comic-apocalyptically, with the postmodernist classic by Joseph Heller, Catch-22. It happened when I wrote a chapter for my doctoral thesis that would soon be abandoned, on the anti-war anti-novel with an anti-hero gripped by existential absurdism. What I posited in the chapter was Joseph Heller had […]

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February 7, 2017

44 Comments

The Springtime Wind —A Translation

Basanti Hawa, or the ‘Springtime Wind’, was the first Hindi poem I fell in love with, early in my childhood. It is written by Kedarnath Agarwal, a much-awarded doyen of Hindi Literature. The poem captures the freshness, fullness and the very essence of the springtime wind with a rare joy and breathlessness, rendering it nearly […]

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February 1, 2017

37 Comments

Train to Nada Land

Dear friend and patrons, by the time you read this post, I’d be rocking away to my old hometown in a still older train panting over the ancient tracks laid down by the British looking to save the Indians from the Indians. If you are the type given to bouts of anxiety over cruelty to […]

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January 21, 2017

42 Comments

Why Did the Chicken Write a Blog?

ARNAB GOSWAMI: Can you tell this, on this channel, right in front of all of us: why can’t the chicken write a blog? The nation wants to know. RAHUL GANDHI: The chicken has written the biggest blog since Independence and is now running away from debate. If it allows me to post a comment, there […]

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January 16, 2017

34 Comments

The Cleaver of Oblivion

The Milky Way is dying, or is dead, by the lever of oblivion; A billion suns will be shattered by the cleaver of oblivion. I remember not the love songs lost or the updraughts of passion; Drowned in sea of disdain, I am a believer of oblivion. She will reap a million vows of my […]

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January 14, 2017

16 Comments

The Orb of Hereafter

About a week shy of the onset of the New Year, I presumptuously augmented the copyright notice at my blog to 2017. Don’t mistake me, I have long stopped caring about the trolls looking forward to plagiarizing my mumbling —anyone with an ounce of gumption would rather honk his or her own larynx. Perhaps my […]

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January 7, 2017

29 Comments

Malice of Zinfandel

Silver grey on temple peaks is the fern of the New Year. The sun has grown wrinkles at the turn of the New Year. Candlelit stilettos turned sherry red in a nightclub, Istanbul is freshly dug cavern of the New Year. Pack of wolves is mauling girls and women in squares, Honour is a bubble […]

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