Flutters aloft a bunch of dream red bougainvillea the white kites fly and droop. It is before lunch the mid afternoon but how much I feel taken into a far away place the echoes keep wafting the small desire to reach out of the window to touch them. Seasons of mist flow in the kites…
I was asleep. I don’t know where; whether it was in my dream or was it the birds really chirping outside my window. I woke up trying to recollect when I heard the sound of the birds chirping the last time. It was a long time ago probably in my childhood and that was long…
Deepika’s Mother was not keeping well. Deepika had been asking her mother to see a Doctor. It was the same today. “Mummy, please go to the Doctor. You are not well”. “No Deepika, I will be fine. It is just a headache. You get ready for college. Pack something for your evening. You have your…
“The rains are here at last “ said Grandmother. ‘Yes the weather forecast yesterday said there would be heavy rain for a few days’ I said setting aside all my books to look at the rain drops falling on the garden roses. It had been a very hot summer. We knew it very well. Our…
Have you seen the music room? No- not in the day When it is agog with people as the court demands its share of fun Not when the Sunlight is bright and clear When the roses in the vase are young and fresh The birds come to visit Through the open windows Not when a…
World Cup football becomes a thread through memory: Maradona, Brazil, a football-loving father, changing styles of play and the enduring drama of the beautiful game.
After a hiatus of nearly 7 years I travelled in an unreserved train compartment recently from Nellore to Vijayawada. Travel in a reserved air conditioned coach is a sanitised experience where order and protocol is enforced on an otherwise chaotic Indian railway carriage. Also boundaries of class because of the higher cost of the travel create barriers of access. A group of Bhavanis boarded the compartment along with me.
At India’s southern edge, sea, memory, faith and travel merge as Krishna Mohan moves through Kanniyakumari and Trivandrum, searching for what makes a place stay with us.
Being an officer in the A.P. administrative machinery, I had the opportunity to visit all the districts of united A.P. except Adilabad. Although I have worked mostly in the coastal districts, I could visit all the districts in Telangana for some inspection or the other. In my 27 years of service in the welfare departments only Adilabad district had remained out of bounds for me.
The gruesome accident in Pune that was caused by a drunk youth, driving recklessly in his newly gifted Porsche car has literally lifted the seal on the can of worms that is eating into our social fabric. From one serious mistake to another, starting from a father gifting such a luxurious car to his son, the bar serving liquor liberally to a minor boy, the machinery which took a ‘liberal’ view of this atrocious crime, the political machinery which woke up even at ‘2’ in the morning to be on duty for their benefactor’s son, the official bureaucracy in the form of doctors and medical