I traveled into town today, in the aftermath of the terror that Mumbai has lived in the past week. The reason was a Tweet-up/Peace walk/gathering at Colaba Causeway. Honestly? I stand in deep respect of the police force, the fire-fighters and the NSG who delivered us from the terror. And…
On 26 November 2008, a series of terror attacks rocked the foundation of the safest city of this country.
Mumbai awoke this morning (for those who did manage to sleep) to reports of commandos being dropped from helicopters onto the critical locations under attack. There was also a mention that the Taj Mahal hotel was secure but that’s something we heard around midnight yesterday too and it turned out…
That patch of yellow in the corner isn’t an indication of autumn (Do we get that in Mumbai?). The minute the street-lamp is turned on in the early evening, and just for the short while that there’s evening light, the tree looks like it’s blushing yellow. Is that too poetic…
Be careful how deeply you look into people. The most negative emotions run skin-deep. As you get under their skin, you start to meet their motivations, their desires and their shortcomings. You should probably stop right there. Because any deeper and you come face to face with their fears, their…
On Facebook while I wait for E Vestigio to turn up for our Sunday evening catch-up/gripe/giggle dinner-date. Clearing out pending messages, updated status (blah, I’m running out of exciting things to claim I’m doing) and even looked into Twitter. And now this idle mind turns to mischief. So I use…
Sensitive is simply how much you allow yourself to. To illustrate, a poem from long ago. Who do you suppose is being referred to here?
“Does it get better?” she asks. She thinks because I’m older, I’ll also be wiser. Can I give her an honest answer?
Lunch at the cafe, alone. At long last. My thoughts and I dine together. I’m Jill and I want lunch. The host wants me to sit in any one of the dingy corners and ignore the brighter, roomier booths in the centre. I make a wry face so he concedes…
Who’s your Office Spouse? Mine is the voice you hear even before mine.
