I’m writing this in the train on my way to Traunstein, a charming town in South of Bavaria where you have a nice view of the Alps. It’s my third visit to Traunstein with my husband who is sitting beside me. That’s right, I got married and that’s to the kindest, most patient and supportive,…
Munich. I left my home country and it’s day 50 out of tentatively 730. I left in a rush. With only 2 months notice, I left the life that I’ve known since forever—my family, friends, colleagues in my high paying corporate scientist-project manager job thousands of miles away. I’m technically still employed but on leave….
Just before my trip to India, a terrible news broke out about a young lady who was brutally gang-raped in a moving bus and consequently died of her injuries. The incident must have stoked the mounting rage of the citizens because a series of protest marches followed. As expected, more reports of abuses and crimes…
The Book Thief is an ambitious stab at humanity and one that exceeds expectation such that if there is one story that a growing up person must understand in all their young naïveté and vulnerability, it is this; and if there is still one story an adult must remember in all their grown-up cynicism and…
I Dream of Rain: In the Heart of Thar Desert Let the sun beat down upon my face, stars to fill my dream Kashmir, Led Zeppelin After going around Amar Sagar and Gadsisar Lake in the morning, walking around the living fort admiring Jain temples and getting to know the local life until afternoon and…
Words or phrases in italics below are from Douglas Coupland’s neologisms in his critically acclaimed novel, Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture. Douglas Coupland’s Generation X is a must-read for every mid-twenties to mid-thirties who are sick of his own veal-fattening pen, for every inconsolably lonely yuppie going through existential isolation, for those who are…
Imagine a world where people live each day like it was their first. An ordinary dawn like every other dawn is always the world’s first dawn. An ordinary midnight like the hundred of midnights that passed is always their life’s first midnight. In a world such as this, people are young and free. They have…
This goes to my sister. Last night I heard the fierce wind blew. Brittle twigs fell off from where they thought they proudly stood. The dense downpour didn’t stop while my eyes were tightly shut. They refuse to see anything other than odd puddles of sullied waters with mismatched hues. Discrete but unbounded. And a…
