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A MAN OF LETTERS It was sitting on the the table when I walked into the office. An Inland letter from an very old friend. Of course in these days of instant communications, that we all have been accustomed to, an inland letter came as a pleasant surprise.If you have that Sherlok Homles style of
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By R. Venkatnarayan IF you happen to be offended by sexist remarks or politically correct statements read no further. Its those angst which we lesser mortals, otherwise called husbands suffer come every March 8. Yes the International women’s day. Try telling a affected husband that all the day seeks to do is given women their
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By R. Venkatnarayan IF you happen to be offended by sexist remarks or politically correct statements read no further.Its those angst which we lesser mortals, otherwise called husbands suffer come every March 8. Yes the International women’s day.Try telling a affected husband that all the day seeks to do is given women their rightful place.
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OF late, I cannot write anything without getting into trouble. My construed insensitivity and my supposed chauvinism fails to clear the ‘politically right’ angle. It is almost impossible to get my random ramblings through the politically-correct sieve. It would take some amount of bravery to publish what I write. Having said that, I must admit
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I happened to meet and hear Sam Manekshaw sometime in ’78 in New Delhi. He was addressing a meeting, I don’t quite remember what it was about. All that I know was we from the NCC were part of the good gathering.I was in my teens. Being a teen then did not mean being a
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Long live Indian Hockey. No this is not a sarcastic comment. The turnaround of Indian hockey has just began, Call it the Chilean Reality.For long Indian hockey has been like the frog in a pool of hot water. Drop a frog in the a pool of hot water and it immediately jumps out. But keep
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“So? what did you do on the New Year Eve?” “I slept” And the look I get for that simple reply will make me feel as if I have committed a grave blunder. What’s all the hullabaloo about a day which breaks like it always does, with the sun rising in the east. The morning
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“So? what did you do on the New Year Eve?” “I slept” And the look I get for that simple reply will make me feel as if I have committed a grave blunder. What’s all the hullabaloo about a day which breaks like it always does, with the sun rising in the east. The morning
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Random Ramblings of a Reluctant Blogger 