It’s a mist-laced January morning. One of those languorous days when indulging in laziness is not a sin. The community is just beginning to wake up. The soulful strains of Vishnu Sahasranamam waft ...

It’s a mist-laced January morning. One of those languorous days when indulging in laziness is not a sin. The community is just beginning to wake up. The soulful strains of Vishnu Sahasranamam waft ...
The heat is punishing to say the least. It’s early morning, yet the sun is at its repressive best. ...
Why Grandma adores her bitters is incomprehensible to a nine year old me and an eleven year old ...
It’s as if it were yesterday. The Mayra-myari ghor (bamboo house) stands proud and ...
Layer above layer. And then one more. Come on, a little voice goads you. And you add yet another ...
Kerala during Onam is a feast for the senses. The myth goes something like this - the magnanimous ...
The maacher baajar in our sleepy town is nothing to write home about. A row of make-shift decrepit ...
Poached chicken, served cold. An aromatic broth. An assortment of condiments. Served with ...
The bel tree was not my favourite tree in Grandmas backyard. Well, far from it. And there was ample ...
It was somewhere in the pristine verdant slopes high up the Malaysian highlands. A nondescript ...
Do remember to get my khejur knata, Grandma reminds Bapi as he takes the last sip of tea from the ...
Payeshpata, it was much later that I came to know they were far more familiar as Pandan leaves in ...
Aunty, I am in Kolkata, I call Rita Aunty to inform. A moment of silence. And then the familiar ...
The first time S returned from Singapore and narrated to me, childlike excitement stark in his ...
The pot of milk, battered with age and use, sits on the stove, a low flame providing ...