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  • Office Creatures

    Gossipers, back stabbers, the big bad boss, the pain in the ass, little miss sugary sweet, the good friend, the two-faced bitch - the list is endless. Fiery little videos, and adorable picture tags circulate Facebook and…

  • The Times

    I don't know about you, but I grew up in a world without war. I grew up on cricket, and books, and petty family feuds, and cars, and sport and bicycles. I grew up on television. I watched our cricketers smack fours, toss…

  • A tourist in my own city

    I was at the Prince of Wales Museum yesterday. A couple minutes from Jehangir Art Gallery again; the Kala Ghoda festivities seemed like a past wiped clean. The road was littered with young lovers, lusty college goers, ar…

  • At the Kala Ghoda Arts Festival

    I was at the Kala Ghoda Arts Festival on the weekend. If you're in the city, this time, next year, look for it at and by the Jehangir Art Gallery. A five-minute ride from Churchgate station, the gallery should be easy to…

  • Lost and found

    In sixth grade, I had a funny, not-so-little teacher names Mrs. Daruwala. Her hair was always plaited; she was always dressed in a flowery concoction, with a butterfly clip in her hair. She liked me Mrs. Daruwala, most t…

  • The week

    Thursdays, the wind trickles through an open rickshaw, the wind whistles through the make-shift curtains, onto the pavement. Meena hums, and Meena sits with her legs apart- you wonder if this is the right time to teach a…

  • Unaffected by time

    On the bus, and in the train I am reading Rohintan Mistry's 'Family Matters.' Mistry takes you lazily, and wonderfully into the world of a characteristically eccentric Parsi Family; it is only befitting then, when I alig…

  • Hill Road, Bandra

    Bandra's Hill Road is teeming with people. People are flowing from the shops onto the footpaths and spilling into the streets. Grazing rickshaws, and dodging young couples on motorcycles. A riot of colors and clothes is …

  • Make-up, mehendi and a Coca Cola.

    Just then, Jameem enters the decrepit flat- bare walls, cubicles, brown chipping off the wood, paint peeling off the walls. In a jiffy, her burkha lies upon the dotted floor- revealing dark-brown, freckled skin, gaudy go…

  • An ugly side

    It seems to me as if Mumbai, India is rearing its ugly side. All I can see, and hear, and feel is spewing anger and hatred. The poor are blaming the rich, the rich are blaming the politicians and everybody's blaming the …

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