The taxi drops us off at our pilgrimage spot — Ruskin Bond’s house — and we get out in awe and respect. The doors and windows are shut tight; any hope of glimpsing Mr Bond is immediately dispelled. We are probably just two of thousands of people who stop here…

When the rain began to fall, fast and heavy, we were only a third across the construction site: there was no soft drizzle followed by a steady quickening of pace, but a downpour of the kind in the movies, where one moment the sun shines bright, and the next, heavy…

In this year of (inadvertent) re-reads, I’ve finished my third after Ponniyin Selvan and Wuthering Heights: Tobias Wolff’s Old School. I first read Old School during our year in the US, picking it randomly off the shelves at thelocal library. This was seven years ago, when my spirits were just…

Kalki’s Ponniyin Selvan has stayed in my mind since I finished re-reading it in January. Those who have read it know how it tends to worm its way into heart and head and settle there, not to be dislodged with ease. …

With many thanks to actor Chiyaan Vikram for mentioning the book in an interview and bringing Margaret Atwood back in my life when I needed her. Margaret Atwood has answers to many of my questions. Or Iris does. They read my mind and weave these thoughts into the story, as…

(Scenes from a Trip-IV — the end!) One evening at a Delhi hotel, we asked a man in a suit, who we assumed worked there, where the restaurant was. He straightened himself to his full height. ‘I don’t work here.’ Even as we apologised — ‘I’m a lawyer at the…

(or Scenes from a Trip-III) Fellow travel companions, if you are reading this post, it begins with some rather elaborate context-setting. Skip to the next section if you want to go straight to the wonderful time you had with R. and me. I have mixed feelings about public birthday celebrations…

(or Scenes from a Trip-II) Part 1 here. Journeys beguile travellers with landscapes and the names of places. Think of Ambasamudram, Truth-or-Consequences, snow-capped mountains, or river-watered fields. But on the stretch between Delhi and Jaipur, most of the excitement is limited to the sighting of low, brown hills in the distance — for there is…

For my splendid companions from the trip — you know who you are! This post is likely to resonate with two groups of people: one, who were part of the trip, and two, those who are habitual eavesdroppers. I hear the best stories when I travel. Far from their usual…