It was an exhibition on Ganga - the living river at National Museum. Titled Ganga : River of Life & Eternity; this was not just paintings and sculptures on Ganga but a story-telling arty narrative. While I have been familiar with lot of myths and stories around Ganga, it was the coming together of different…
For the last six months, my daily commute has been from Noida to Gurgaon and back for work. In the initial month, I tried all various route options to reduce time or atleast keep moving instead of being stranded on traffic-jammed road. I finally decided on a route that goes via Lutyens Delhi for a…
With a 50 km commute from home to office (give or take 2-3 kms depending on the route), it's a usual practice for me to check Google maps to decide the route. This morning, as usual I checked the map and it showed massive jam on DND towards Delhi and the alternative route via Mayur…
Sundays are laid back, with an agenda of reading newspapers, finishing house chores and relaxing with a good film or a book. And Monday blues usually sets in as the day progresses. Rarely, there is an announcement of a music concert for a Sunday morning and even rarer for me to be able to catch…
In the last few months I have had to say Goodbye to two homes I have ever lived in my life time. One was a home I was brought to after I was born, my parents got that official accommodation from Banaras Hindu University just a few months before I was born. That's the garden…
One or the other channels on television always show the Richard Attenborough's iconic film Gandhi on 2nd October. Every time I watch the film, I discover a new nuance - sometimes a quote, other times cinematography in the scene of a film or a new story. There is a scene at the railway station at…
This monsoon season, while we have been spending more time on roads and traffic signals, it is unavoidable to observe life streaming about you. One sees people on motorcycles and bicycles going about on their work while trying to keep themselves dry, people in petrol-diesel guzzlers oblivious to rains while listening to loud electro-techno music…
Sitting in the last vestiges of my childhood winter garden Sound of coo-woo reverberates around. The cry of koel Reminds not only of Summers But also of examination season Of School and then College. Of anxiety and trepidation Sometimes panic, That mind may go blank. Was it fear of failure Or of moving up one…
The all too brief spell of Spring After the not too cold Winter, Gives way to the heat of Summers. The dying flowers of winter And the Shalmali Spread their last burst of colours. The brightening sunshine And the golden yellow of Amaltas The flaming red-orange of Gulmohar Herald the way to Summers.
Colours of love and joy, not of hatred Colours of harmony, not of blood Colours of spring and summer Spread happiness in our lives. Happy Holi
13 years and a long journey ... An address book with 1500 plus names, some acquaintances, some crossing that invisible line to become friends. Adding to the ever expanding encyclopedia of mind and heart, creating new memories on the way! Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing... So on the…
My first memory of a teacher is of my Grandmother, when I was not even 3 yrs old. She was the one who taught me alphabets, numbers and colours. Whilst some of the memories have faded away, what I do remember is that when I went for my nursery admission interview, I already knew alphabets,…
