The oral history of my family has told me that the first inkling came about when I was one. My first birth anniversary was being celebrated with the appropriate sense of pomp, and I cried, and cried, and cried some more, and drove everyone just … Continue reading Flower Power
Is it possible to harbour nostalgia for a decade during which I didn't exist? I often wonder, how it would be to grow up in the 1980s, where every stage of my life would have a background score by Ilayaraja. I would remember the days … Continue reading A Strange Longing
I have been to about eight plays, in three times as many years; and I have enjoyed every single play (though this may point more to my ignorance than having such good taste). 😀 Ms. Meena, the play, is about Ms. Meena, the film star, … Continue reading Ms. Anusha watches Ms. Meena!
"The Omniscient Monkey", as Timon calls Rafiki in one of the Lion King movies, sings a song about the Circle of Life. A little over thirty years ago, when my father started working - a fresh graduate, ambitious, hopeful and optimistic - after having donated … Continue reading Circle of Life
The other day, I wished for a moment I was a photographer. Swollen, dark grey clouds were moving, attempting to eclipse all light that remained after the sunset. They came to a halt above two trees whose branches were seeking to meet each other. On … Continue reading Small wishes
Something has been gnawing at me ever since I started reading Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's books with a vengeance, taking them to work and reading whenever nobody was looking; her books speak a lot about race, identities, and such. I thought of how every time I … Continue reading Different Degrees of being Indian
...a blog post. I sincerely hope no one at work spots me coming into office on a Monday morning, and sitting down to write a blog post (after catching up on each others' weekend activities). This weekend, I raced through the short and enjoyable book: … Continue reading If It’s Monday It Must Be