Stories move us, stories shape us
Each of us can tell stories. Even Indra, my two and half year old grandson, tells stories. Most are, of course, those that he has heard, liked, and loves to hear repeatedly. But whenever there is a chance, he is now able to create one easily. Look around and you’ll know how well artists, filmmakers,...
Books that my grandson loves
My grandson, a two-and-a-half year old fan of books, said, ‘You are funny, Dada,’ when I made gruff sounds while reading the story of Gruffalo’s Child. Indra, my grandson, has introduced me to a list of books that I was unaware of until now. The earliest book that I remember having read was a pop-up...
Listicles are no longer a raging trend anywhere
For quite some months now, my email inbox has grown obese. You know what too many calories can do to a body… right? Well, even my inbox has had an over-dose of empty info-calories that has persisted for months now. I believe this is because new products, technological or otherwise, have kept a low-profile and...
Tourism is a deadly sin
It was four in the morning and we were slowly making our way through the dark lobby of our hotel to go outside. There were two dark figures, probably the night-shift receptionist and another person presumably to attend calls to housekeeping, snoring without a care on the sofa there. As we stepped out and breathed...
Conversion is a good word in the blogging world
The most common conversion that I see happening in the online world is people with no love for words or expression turning into bloggers. No, they neither sit under the Bodhi Tree meditating to stumble upon the true nature of blogging, nor do they go for the proverbial arduous treks over virgin hazardous terrain to...
Yes, the Gods ordered
Even I would never have believed had Arjun Rampal not told me the story. Well I’m talking of Arjun and Rampal, two of my best friends who love walking up and down the ramp in every major fashion show all over the country. In our circle of friends we call them Arjun Rampal as it...
The club election
It wasn’t a club really, but an association of around two score shop-keepers in a small cul-de-sac in Chandni Chowk. I attended their annual election of the Club President on the invitation of my friend Suresh. Suresh was a wholesaler of health food. Their club had people selling suitcases, embroidered sarees, diaries, books, dry-fruits, food-stuff,...
The audition
I was prepared. I was full of confidence. I knew my lines and I had rehearsed them umpteen times in the past few hours. So as I opened my eyes after a night when even in my dreams I was up there on the NSD stage, I murmured, ‘What a glorious morning!’ That day I...
I want your fingerprints all over me like a crime scene
‘I want your fingerprints all over me like a crime scene,’ I heard her tell someone as I stood outside her room. When I heard these words I knew at once that the she was quoting from Twist written by Dannika Dark. So as I entered her room, I said aloud, ‘I clung to each...
There is nothing wrong with ‘I’
I choose. I am responsible. I need to be accountable. I love. I am not flawless. I need a bit of sex in my life. I need to constantly improve. I need to help others achieve their potential.
Art-forms for a brew
It is a speech that I am going to quote here in this post… a whisky speech… and then I am going to try to write the same speech as if it were a poem. I’m sure all those who love their malt are going to be nodding in appreciation. Noah “Soggy” Sweat made his...
Tones, textures, and an evening with a 12 YO
Words, aromas, and flavours have the power to evoke a sense of oneness if they are the right ones coming together. Almost like the time I sat with my wife on the terrace and poured from a bottle of Black Dog 18 YO. ‘Deep, golden, glossy, and mahogany,’ I said softly. My wife looked on...
