Gone are the days, I thought the other day. I was reminiscing the growing up days when my father used to make me and my elder brother read English daily every day. In those days, the news really used to be stale, for the paper used to arrive in our Read more…
“Good morning. How are you?”, I inquired as I entered the house. She sat on sofa, nonchalant, silhouetted by the morning Sun. I registered a lost note on her wrinkled face bracketed by curly lock, as I neared her. She now was looking at me with sign of familiarity missing Read more…
Recently, I presided over a session of “khud-ki-adalat“* to assure myself that some new developments on personal front must be accepted on the face value and to let everyone have clear idea about it. Specially my super-dominant “Mrs AlwaysDoubtful“ (MAD hence-forth) self. She does show up most of the times, Read more…
February, the shortest month, the month of love and care and the month of Kala Ghoda Festival at Mumbai. Kala Ghoda Festival is week long affair, usually at the beginning of the month. Its a treat for artists from across the spectrum. Its a treat for a commoner like me Read more…
Joyce Kilmer thought that every tree is a poem* penned by Almighty. Other day a thought, on similar lines, occurred to me while walking down a lane in the neighbourhood. “Every tree has a story” These stories are out in open for the ones who wish to read. Probably it Read more…