Barefoot in the park
Rosa’s eyes… they are hazel brown, and deep. They stared unblinkingly into mine and there was something primal and brazen in that stare. The smooth touch of her skin sent a nervous rush up my spine as her sinuous form undulated in my arms.
Lessons in liberation
By the age of nine, I had been witness to my parents being asked to take me out of school; by then I had also attempted to run away from home, twice; and to add insult to injury, I had been caught ripping car monograms and had seen the insides of a police station before blowing out 10 candles on my birthday cake.
The second coming of the third Reich
While celebrating the World Cup win on the streets of Delhi last Saturday, I was suddenly reminded of a day from very long ago. It must have been about a couple of years after India had won the World Cup in 1983 when a favourite uncle of mine, an amateur cricketer who used to knock the ball around for Hindu College
Three cheers and some fears
There’s no joy in being a killjoy so forgive me for what I’m about to say, but say it I must. So tell the trumpets to trumpet no more, if at least for a while. Pull down the streamers from the walls and stop not to mourn for the king, for his naked corpse still lies in the forest, and his crown and skin and bones in a bag, waiting to be traded.
The Seven Immortals
The suitors have started reaching for the bride. Hands, sweaty and dirty after a long hard day of battle have begun to dream of what it would be like to touch and kiss the one they are fighting for.
Message in a bottle
It was a strange photograph. It was neither depressing nor grisly. In fact it reminded me of a Van Gogh painting.
A preemptive strike
This is an old one from the vault but one I'd like to repeat over and over again, especially on a day like this, because you need to know and believe that there is nothing fair about being the weaker sex. You can be as strong as they come and by
The short life and wonderful times of Archie Jackson
Archibald Jackson was the only Australian cricketer who died during the infamous Bodyline series in 1933. Archie Jackson was only 23 years old, and engaged to be married when he died. Those were strange times. It all began in 1930 when England was ho
Don't Save The Last Dance For Me
“There he is….,†whispered the good doctor in my ears as we stopped and I followed his gaze and that long thin finger pointing straight ahead. I peered through the trees and the bushes and saw a tall dark figure sitting on his haunches under a
What To Say After ‘I Do’
Don’t bother reading this, because in all probability, I didn’t write these hurriedly scribbled words of advice for you. And who needs advice anyway…not you. Not unless you just got married, like two of my cousins just did. In that case
The Cup Of Dreams Runneth Over
The balls don’t matter for we have more than we need. But it’s poor Sreesanth. The temperamental fast bowler has been mumbling away between deliveries to all the gods that might care to listen.
Shadow People
In the streets of every big city in Australia, there lurk the shadow people. You don’t see them on the streets but every once in a while you find their tracks, on the billboards,
Moksha, meditations and aloor dom
I had something else in mind for today, something dreamy and lyrical that spoke of dead trees and the full moon, of long lakes and the last loon, but alas it wasn’t to be…for I ran into an old favourite
More Than A Mouthful
I’m in pain. It’s not mortal agony just yet but it still hurts, and leaves you feeling oh so empty. And no wonder I feel empty. I haven’t eaten since morning. It’s not like I couldn’t… it’s just that I didn’t! I’m at a Sunday barbec
The Old Man from The Sea
It was the 8th of January and it must’ve been a cold night in Netanya (Israel). An old man was lying in bed, wrapped in quilts and sheets. There were people surrounding the bed and the mood was somber and grave
Issue Dated: Feb 5, 2017
