About a year and a half ago, someone recommended that I read Dozakhnama by Ravishankar Bal. Read Dozakhnama, they said. It's a conversation between dead Manto and dead Ghalib, they said. I bought myself a copy, but I was dismayed on seeing that the poetry of Ghalib interspersed in the novel was printed in Urdu... Continue Reading →
Know the superstition that your new year tends to follow the trend set by the first day of the year? I hope to God that that's untrue because the first day of my year was terrible. Honestly, so were the first two weeks. Moreover, so have been these 22 days. Now don't ask me to... Continue Reading →
When Rockstar's album came out, I fell headlong in love. There was no recovering from it. All of it was like a story knitted together in perfection - the music, the lyrics, the singers - it was exactly how magic is meant to be. Those days were the times of CDs and I had its... Continue Reading →
Once upon a time, foster father showed me a photograph of Robert Frost's house which he visited while in the U.S. The photo looked like the angels in the heavens had taken up the place as a pet project and done it up in the most precious leaves, barks of trees, and pristine water for... Continue Reading →
Today, I called a friend to wish him for his birthday. I like instinctive conversations, as I am sure we all do. A part of the conversation went like this: Me: Are you in Delhi or Hyderabad now? Him: Delhi. I came over for the weekend. But I'm planning to come back for good man.... Continue Reading →
Recently, I was in Hyderabad. The first time in a new city is like a clean slate. What impression it casts on you is something you might take away for life. I loved how the non-intrusive city provided me with the anonymity that I was yearning for. Everywhere I went, people did not seem to... Continue Reading →
There is more than just one relationship one can have with a book. What one takes away from a book is noteworthy and much discussed, but what one brings to a book is far less acknowledged. More often than not, one approaches a book with expectations; to be enchanted, enthralled, entertained, emancipated and even educated.... Continue Reading →
Previously, I have written about Mirza Ghalib when I had finished reading the book Mirza Ghalib: A Biographical Scenario by Gulzar. I read about his house and the lanes where he strolled. Here are a few pictures from the present day Ghalib Memorial at Ballimaran, Delhi. The nearest metro stop is Chawri Bazaar. "Garcha hai mulke Deccan... Continue Reading →
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