Game for more
Let me take you back in time, to the cobbled streets of an ancient Rome.
Charlie's Demons
London! What strange treasure will it throw up today, I wondered, as I drifted out of the National Gallery at Trafalgar Square and sauntered off towards Charing Cross.
Time for the tiger
I love tigers. I want them to survive, claw their way over the cliff, make lots of cute cubs, and walk forests without fear, the way evolution intended them to. I can sit and read all day about the tiger’s power and grace, and tales from the forest from foresters of yore. But, frankly, I’m sick of reading about politically motivated policy makers, publicity-mongering fame seekers and profit-hungry corporations pawning the cat’s future for their 15 minutes of fame.
The silent extinction
Last week I attempted to reveal the murderous trail that starts from the high Himalayas and through an ancient route, finds its way straight into your boudoir.
Undone by the unbearable lightness of being
Tall and dark, with a nose that seemed to have been carved by the heat of the plains far more than the cold winds that shape the mountains, Riaz Ahmed did not look like a Kashmiri, though he did claim to be one.
The Greatest!
Hello history! So who did you kiss on the lips? Won’t you tell us who you’ve chosen to love, whose name we shall remember, forever from this day?
The Little Brown Dog
The brown speck in the windshield grew bigger in the rain as I drove back to work… it must have been about five in the evening and I was rushing back to work for I had this column to write. The brown speck, lying on the right lane near the divider had looked like a brown sack from a distance, but as I drove closer, I realised it was a dog. It was odd for a dog to sit in the face of oncoming traffic like that… something had to be wrong.
ARE YOU STRONG ENOUGH TO BE MY...?
When the man’s mighty shoulders pushed against the collapsed axle of the cart and day light peeped through between the broken but still breathing body of a man and the underside of the cart, Jean Valjean became a hero in my head and heart.
He won't be gone with the wind
It isn’t everyday that you get to meet a great man so when you do, you drop everything else and try and soak in a bit of that greatness… try and imbue your spirit with a little light from the halo.
The roads to rage
Two rules still to go, and yet I must take a break and tell you a little story; there’s half a moral lurking in there I’m sure…
Will You Dance With Me On the Crystal ball?
This one's easy. Rule four – You’ve got to have a shared vision of the future in order to stay happy and together in that future.
HOW GREEN IS MY VALLEY STILL?
The still waters of the Dal rippled ever so lazily while the shikara drifted along, past a colony of sleepy lotuses. An arm’s length away, a lone coot poked around the pads,. Beyond the lotuses rose a rickety fence enclosing a small cucumber patch and a bearded billy goat staring meditatively at the water through half closed eyes. It was a little past dawn and I was still sleepy as I stretched into a long, slow yawn…"Good morning sir!" I turned and looked for the owner of the chirpy little voice… "Ah Zahid! Good morning!", I said. "You live here?"
FRIENDS?!
If you want to believe in love and happy endings, don’t read this book you see in my hands.
A little bit of us...
Folks, whoever told you that there was something called love at first sight doesn’t know a thing about love.
Rules of the game -I
IRC is an atheist! He is an Eklavyan disciple of the formidable DD (Richard Dawkins to the uninitiated, author of the seminal best seller, The God Delusion). Now I haven’t read DD’s books and though ‘I believe’, and it would take more than a mere book to shake my faith, I fear I might like him. But that’s not the point of this story. The point is DD, I’m told, is a much married man and any man who finds it difficult to stay in love would also find it difficult to believe in love. And only a man who does not believe in love would, therefore, refuse to believe in God.
Issue Dated: Feb 5, 2017
