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Keemar Labra (Mutton Mince with Vegetables)

The shrill of the telephone bell punctuates the serene tranquil of a mist-laced autumn-melting-into-winter ...

Manikkaka gets home a plump little cauliflower, august with its pompous crown of green. I am elated. We are ...

One autumn evening, Bapi brings home a pair of binoculars. A childhood friend of his had been visiting and he ...

It’s a sultry summer morning, the ancient fan whirring above struggles to provide any respite from the ...

There’s a melancholy despair about Bijoya Doshomi. It’s meant to be a day of festivities and celebration, ...

One day to go and She shall be arriving. My lal-par saree has been laundered and ironed. The kansa has ...

Grandma carefully pulls out an old Britannia tin, the colours faded with age, the surface dimpled having ...

Isn't it rather unusual that on a manic Monday morning, I wallow in sweet nostalgia, allowing myself the ...

The shrill of the phone punctuates the idyllic silence of a lazy afternoon. I am immersed in a book, the ...

It’s a gorgeous autumn morning. The nimbus clouds that had usurped the heavens above and scarred them an ...

Every now and then, I pause my game of hopscotch, dart to the ancient iron gate, embellished lately with ...

Was your homeland more beautiful than this? A curious eight year old me asks Grandma one autumn afternoon, ...