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Anita Nair
On the day prior to Ayudha puja, most Hindu homes get a proper do-over. In my parents home, anything that resembled a gadget and remotely functioned as a device wasn’t ever spared.
For me though the enchantment of the Sunday didn’t end with the Biriyani. Thereafter would be the Sunday movie
One of the greatest pleasures of my Sunday is the waking up at the crack of dawn. Perhaps it is sheer perversity but knowing that I have nowhere to go, nothing to do induces a ceratin pleasure in lying in and reading.
Nineteen years ago, when I first came to live in the Cantonment area of Bangalore, Thom’s Café was a little store on Wheeler Road which was part bakery, part grocery and part liquor store wreathed in shadows and middleclass-dom.
In the last five years, the roads have become even more non-existent. Where trees stood, little concrete boxes have mushroomed. Each one a little shop now
The other day in the process of reviewing one of my books, a literary critic brought to my and the world’s notice that the flavours of my happiness were many - 'my glory hallelujah husband, my clever son, funny dog and wrinkle free parents.
The hen strutted across the yard purposefully. Then it leapt onto a stack of firewood and pretended to peer at the sky and suddenly with a manic squawck, it flapped its wings and fled into the bushes...My brother and I looked at each other in horror and...
It is one of those rare coincidences that actually allow me to relish in what’s advocated by doctors, dieticians, generals and chefs: the hearty breakfast.
