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(Art by my little girl, Pratyangira Kashyap, at age 7) At 2 o'clock every afternoon, give or take a few minutes, Pavi akka crossed the broken fence dividing our two houses and rang the doorbell. The whole of our ground floor had French windows, making visitors visible long before they reached the house. Nevertheless, my… Continue reading Pavi Akka →

A few weeks after I graduated college, I stepped off the plane in India and was told that Mr. Ram Gopal Varma, after blockbuster commercial hits like Rangeela and Shiva, was now looking to make a cult film about the Mumbai underworld. It was to be titled Satya, which means “truth” in Hindi, but really… Continue reading The Making of Truth: Satya →

(One of my stories that was never published) The train pulled out of Pune Central, gathering speed to slice through chill morning fog. A tea seller swayed through the compartments, his body picking up the rhythm and moving seamlessly with it. Meghana hailed him with a soft sound. Moments later she found a cup of… Continue reading And the Clock Struck Twelve →

My aunt would use her weekly half-day off from her patients at the hospital to meet us at the theater for whatever film was screening in Rex, Lido, Blue Moon or Galaxy that Sunday, every Sunday of the year. In the 70s and 80s, while I was growing up, we watched movies as a family.… Continue reading Speaking of the Talkies →

Two steps. Two steps are all it takes to get you from the entrance of the Hubli airport to the check-in counter. From the looks of it, only one plane departs from this airport. Ditto in the case of arrivals. Air India operates a Bangalore-Hubli-Bangalore sector every day. The government made them do it. The… Continue reading Two Steps →