This was written a few years ago. And somehow thought of it today, as a note to self. A reminder. Yes, all that’s in the title. — P. and I studied toge…
The content of this letter can test the boundaries of propriety for some readers as it talks about sex, porn, and other threads that twist with these a…
Dear reader, Whenever I hear Shigeru Umebiyashi’s score for In the mood for love, I wish Yumeji’s theme to match mine — languid poetry in colours and t…
A person who worked with me liked everything with tomato sauce. He would even eat curd rice with ketchup. Another person I know loves pillows, as if th…
There’s a problem in mathematics called the ‘three-body problem’. How two bodies interact can be encapsulated in a relationship where everything is cle…
It was somewhere in Nungambakkam. I don’t remember exactly what the story was; I was trying to talk to some people and then walked to the main road to …
It could have been three years ago. I saw the slider on Netflix, and saw a row of white faces lined up for me to scroll. And for a moment, I thought - …
I was helping my father repair a telephone connection. It was a landline, and sometimes inside that small dabba with all the connectors, the screws wou…
S. lives in Bangalore. We know each other for over two decades now, and have commiserated with each other on every twist and turn our lives took. Even …
“I’ve always considered myself to be, basically, a lucky person.” That’s how Tana French’s The Wych Elm begins. The person in whose voice the novel unf…
Some years ago, a friend came to visit. We were chatting about music, and he said, you have to listen to this song. And went on to play the song from Y…
It is Aunty J’s 80th birthday tomorrow. I am not sure when was the first time I met her. I do remember a party. I was tipsy and she stood there, and I,…