You know what it’s like to wake up in the morning to a blaring alarm and you wonder what sort of perversion in the human mind permitted the invention of such a torturous experience? Till you remember that you set the alarm. You know what it’s like to bounce out…
I see the footprints of hundreds of busy feet that walked before me.I see history being created….little histories, not major sagas.
The newspaper tells of a change in the Mumbai train system that brought on the ire of the ladies. And they won the battle.
One little corner in the newspaper tells of a tussle between women commuters and the Mumbai railway authorities. Apparently as a part of a new range of services on Mumbai’s Harbour line, the earlier timetable has been altered. The hitherto 9:14 a.m. Vashi-CST local was advanced by one minute. Not…
She’s generous. Just bring her a great deal of stories. But he knew that already.
We live in cold storage during the week, shutting away emotions, fears, aches and fevers till such a time that we can experience them ‘on our own time’.
Wet weather, and cold drops trickle down the back of my neck. And the roads are slippery. Still, I seek refuge. The nasty wet rain says to me, Oops, I missed a spot! in mock-sheepishness. And so you did!! I mock-retort back and supress a smile. There are places even…
Friday evening and I was leaving work. Later than expected, about 3 hours later than I’d have wished. I got into the cab and paused for those brief seconds that are those rare occurances in a Mumbaiker’s day when he or she thinks of absolutely nothing. Then snapping back into…
Rainy days that seem like Mondays in Mumbai. And we are already off to a bad start.
What does it mean to be on the roads of Lalbagh during the city’s most high octane festival and right in the midst of cricket fever?
