[There’s just a lot of Calcutta in this blog piece, necessitating a glossary of common Bangla references (at the bottom) for the non-Calcuttan.] Calcutta, my Calcutta, will never change. She’ll never be any other… Continue reading
I haven’t stayed long enough in Colombo to talk about the city at length, haven’t really soaked in the atmosphere enough. But the few hours I spent going around town were electrifying. The… Continue reading
The Colombo-Jaffna highway is a joy to be on. It’s smooth, all concrete and runs along a picturesque country, well-off neighbourhoods, shops, super markets, banks, schools, bus stands and groceries. Beyond Anuradhapura, further… Continue reading
It’s a windy January evening and I am at Elephant Pass — the causeway connecting the Sri Lankan mainland to the Jaffna Peninsula. This strip of road, that rises from an expanse of still water… Continue reading
Guess how much Maithripala Sirisena’s no-frills swearing-in cost the government, a journalist colleague from Sri Lanka asked after the new president was sworn into office on the evening of January 9. “A princely… Continue reading
Who would say Jaffna was the epicenter of a violent ethnic conflict that bled the Sri Lankan nation white for decades? To the unaware, it’s a north Sri Lankan town, quaint, picturesque and… Continue reading
More than 100 km from Uttarkashi is Gangotri, where the great river is said to have originated once upon a time before the glacier, from which it sprang, receded to Gomukh. The road… Continue reading
Uttarkashi is a six-hour drive from Rishikesh up a road strung like a thread looped around a garland of hills. As it coils up the slopes, the Tehri reservoir is an awesome sight.… Continue reading
Rishikesh is a mini kibbutz. In this ashram town, barbers’ signboards are in Russian or Hebrew, eateries serve Italian and French breakfast. Thousands from foreign shores come here, some to experience the ascetic… Continue reading
The Ganga gushes ashen, venerated and violated at Haridwar. Every morning the town worships her, each evening pays homage to her. The river is a way of life for the townsfolk. Millions from… Continue reading
Mr Honest On a cold and soggy Melbourne evening, I hailed a taxi for the Australian Broadcasting Corporation station. I was new to the city, on my first foreign trip. The year: 1997.… Continue reading
July 11, 2014. Downtown Tokyo. Level-four hotel room. It’s early morning, the skies brooding, dark. A typhoon has struck a southern island bringing tall, looming, clouds and steady rain to the city. The… Continue reading
Mounts on the move They’re everywhere in the mountains, having a blast, gunning their machines, pushing, weaving, having fun, taking grave risks. Wind in their hair, adventure in their hearts, astride manly machines… Continue reading
If Khardungla, the highest motorable road in the world, perches you on top of the world, downhill, Nubra Valley is an absolute charmer. It’s at the end of a zigzag drive that twists and… Continue reading
Khardungla, mother of all mountain roads, gets its name from Khardung, a village that sits at the base of a range of very tall, rugged mountains which the world’s highest motorable road cuts… Continue reading
On the way back from the Lamayuru monastery to Leh, we stop over at a village called Ule on the banks of the Indus – a quaint place where nobody has ever been in… Continue reading
Ladakh’s Gompas — monasteries — are treasure houses of history, piety and heritage, each one of them. Many of them built centuries ago continue to be austere and functional, yet colourful. Constructed on… Continue reading
The early-morning Delhi-Leh flight is a pain. It is seriously early — 5.15am. Check-in is slow, noisy queues form in front of counters – not many Ladhakis on the flight. It’s packed mainly with… Continue reading
Vast stretches of emptiness, a picture-perfect avenue, landscape that gently rolls and falls, bold rock formations, flaming-red flowers and fields of swaying crops. That’s how Bastar is in some parts. Then, there are… Continue reading
In the 1990s, I knew something called a pizza existed. But had neither seen nor tasted it. In middle-class chenchda-shukto (everday Bengali recipes) homes, eating out was rare and I’m not sure if… Continue reading
My parents tell me that I did get a plane ride as a child. We flew Indian Airlines — Delhi to Srinagar. I’ve tried hard to jog my memory on this. Trouble is… Continue reading
Shah Jalal to Gulshan Dhaka’s Shah Jalal airport doesn’t intimidate. It’s international, but it’s homely. Business is transacted mostly in Bangla, the display boards are in Bangla and English, the staff cheerful and… Continue reading
Bangabandhu Mujibur Rahman lived in a quaint bungalow in Dhaka’s upscale Dhanmondi with a patch of green, plants and tall trees. When he was around, it must have been full of life, more… Continue reading
The Bangladeshi, just like his Bengali cousin across the border, will give his right hand for a rich ilish maachh-bhaat meal. Complaints on both sides of the fence are the same – not… Continue reading
The highway from Dhaka hits a dead end on the banks of an endless stretch of water. Somewhere, far away, this amazing water world meets the horizon. It’s the Padma – majestic, magical… Continue reading
A torrent of confused, overpowering emotions chokes the narrative. After five days in Bangladesh I can’t figure out where to begin. More than a hundred years ago, when nobody had imagined there would… Continue reading
Sometime in the 1970s, days ahead of the Pujas, the skies opened up and poured sheets of rain on Calcutta. For three days and three nights, there was no let up. The streets… Continue reading
I set foot in the world of the Arabs when I accompanied my wife to Morocco a couple of years ago. Not many Indians make the Mediterranean country their destination, but Shah… Continue reading
A palmist once cautioned me never to return to Calcutta. Don’t even think of living in the city of your birth. It’d be disastrous. Run as far as you possibly can (joto door… Continue reading
Acre after acre of parched dugouts. Once these were wetlands where birds flocked from home and abroad to roost. Food was aplenty, life was good. The bird sanctuary at Bharatpur brings tears to… Continue reading
