It turns out that May is Short Story Month. So I’m going to try and serve up a Tiny Tale every day through May. Enjoy! ====================================================== Chandran stepped into his hawai chappals, grimacing. Even his slippers were slick with sweat. Nevertheless, he moved to the balcony, hoping the sky would…
For best results, paste on electric box. This month’s blockbuster promises to be quite electrifying: Current Maare Goriya
Spotted on the back of autorickshaw driver’s seat. Everyone in Mumbai wants repeat business.
Spotted on the side of a building wall. I’m guessing the dangling man offering the modak came later. Street art is an ever evolving form, after all.
The Mumbaiker starts the day with a prayer to guide them through the daily adventure that is a public commute.
As much as I complain about autorickshaws, I can’t deny they certainly improve the stuck-in-traffic experience. ‘If ur bad, I am ur dad.’
Mumbai’s victimisation of South Indians happened a little before my time. But I remember life in the city before and after the Babri Masjid incident. My city, my beloved home has gone from an all-welcoming abode to a place that hates Muslims as much as the rest of the propagandized…
North-Indians unwelcome.South-Indians unwelcome.Muslims unwelcome. Singletons unwelcome.Couples unwelcome. Artists unwelcome.Drinkers unwelcome. The City of Gold, blessed land of Mahalaxmi that was once given as a princess’s dowry is a treasure no more. I’d like to say the average man on the street doesn’t carry these notions but the scary thing is…
Sunday lunch
I dressed up for a Christmas special dance workshop.