Fish Curry Photography

Didar Narkel Posto Katla

In Bengal, nothing is ever truly wasted. Not the peel of a gourd, not the stems of greens, not even ...

There is a certain unruliness to pui shaak that I have always admired. It does not grow—it advances. It ...

The maacher baajar in our sleepy town is nothing to write home about. A row of make-shift decrepit stalls, ...

It was somewhere in the pristine verdant slopes high up the Malaysian highlands. A nondescript shack. By a ...

The first time S returned from Singapore and narrated to me, childlike excitement stark in his voice, his ...

Age is catching up fast on Grandma. She no longer spends long hours in the soot -blackened ancient kitchen, ...

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

So when my eyes greet the gorgeous shimmering silver parshe at the Manicktala fish market during my recent ...

The humble katla goes for a facelift this morning. Neither the ubiquitous coriander powder scented jhol ...

There's nothing as delightful as having a house full of guests on a lazy Sunday morning. The tea kettle is ...