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(This was my first middle which was published in The Indian Express way back in 1991/92. Was rummaging through some old memories when I chanced upon the cutting.) Even though some would prefer to use such dismissive terms as adolescent infatuation and calf love I still call itlove. And it is not at all difficult…
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This is not a Hitchcockian murder mystery. Although it does involve a bathroom and a washbasin, there isn’t any blood dripping suddenly and all that macabre cinematic effects. But, does the destruction of ego fall in the category of murder.? Maybe. Anyway, to continue, all the action happened thanks to an offending faucet fixed in…
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My cat sat staring at me. A deep, deep stare. It perturbed me, stirring the philosophical train of thought. And I starred back and telepathically connected to it, I had a barrage of questions. Questions that evaded answers, questions of life, purpose, moksha et all. But before I let you in on my transcendental thoughts,…
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Can one watch sports without emotions? Can one be so involved without the heart in it? Tough, isn’t it? But there comes a moment when one has to keep aside the emotion and view it with purely dispassionately. For Chennai Super Kings and M S Dhoni, this is that time. There can be no doubt…
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A writer’s block does not fill me with as much dread as does the far more trickier ‘writer’s flight of fancy’ does. With the block, if it doesn’t roll over a period of time, one can find ways around it. But my fanciful takeoffs leaves me with zilch, and at times even invites the dreaded…
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A chance discussion before the Bogi day had my wife and her sister attempting to locate the Red Diary, and in it a family recipe. Pongal being a big festival certainly calls for an elaborate menu and it was this discussion which reminded them of a Red diary and the special ‘gobbi kuura’ recipe. While…
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So here it is. Yet another New year, of course as per Gregorian calendar. And If not for all the hulla-bulla it is just another day. Yes, yes, I know, the more things change the more they remain the same. So shouldn’t we herald in the new year? Should we not have a small celebration.?…
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Margazhi, a month many poets have waxed lyrical about, stays in a special memory box in my brain. Especially Margazhi and Thiruppavai. But before you think that I am a trained singer about to break into songs, I should warn you early. I do not remember margazhi because I sang, but because I couldn’t? Frankly…
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Love fashion? Does your heart go boom boom seeing all those anorexic tribes dolled-up with inexplicable paraphernalia and strutting on a thin piece of platform they call the ramp? And want to make it big in the world of fashion.? Have you ever felt that the sequined long or short piece of cloth has more…
Random Ramblings of a Reluctant Blogger 