While CP Surendran’s early work could be seen as the walk away, in his new poems he firmly occupies the inside of the fence, and looks prepared to observe and contemplate.
I have a prosthetic leg, which makes me a security threat. Every time I go through an airport scanner, it beeps maniacally, like I’m a ticking 9/11 waiting to happen.
Sushil Mahla and Neelam Rani are hearing- and speech-impaired, but are grateful for their disabilities. In Haryana, their relationship wouldn’t have transcended the fiercely defended boundaries of caste had they been “normal”.
Whizzing around Mumbai’s gallis are the delivery boys – foot soldiers of a $16.4 billion e-commerce boom. Arré rides pillion with one, delivering everything from cupcakes to quinoa.
Alyque Padamsee donned many hats: Actor, theatre director, ad-man. In the Mad Men-like world of Indian advertising in the ’80s and ’90s, Padamsee was the masala version of Don Draper. The man who gave us the “Liril girl” was nothing short of a god in advertising.
In "Rustom", Sylvia Nanavati is portrayed as a repentant wife, awash with tears. But the real Sylvia would not be relegated to the role of the adulteress.
When my brother died in a car accident, I couldn’t bear to be around friends and family. My only relief was talking to a complete stranger, a person I’d never met and didn’t know.
At a fishing village in Mumbai’s upscale Bandra, there is a Sulabh shauchalaya, where the neighbourhood queues up as early as 4 am. If you’re lucky your “turn” may come by 6 or 7 am.