Culture · Letters · Travel · World

Sweet my child, I live for thee

It was 4 am in the morning and Shweta got up with a start. She did not know what woke her up but she knew that she would not sleep so easily again. She took her phone to browse Facebook. She saw that one of her school friends with whom she had not spoken to for eight years was getting married. She immediately ‘liked’ her picture. She always wondered what if she texted her on chat once. What if she asked, ‘Hey just out of curiosity let’s meet.’ But she simply ‘liked’ the picture.

Continue reading “Sweet my child, I live for thee”

Culture · India · Letters · Travel · World

Discretion Part 2

I sat down on my bed and looked at the watch. I knew his flight had already landed. I knew he must be getting ready. I looked at myself in the mirror for good five minutes, trying to understand if I had changed.

Paul Keaton from Google Images

While my appearance did change I was unable to figure if I was the same person.

I had asked him to meet me near the Hard Rock Cafe in Times Square. Anyone could find it easily in New York. I stood there patiently waiting. I could hear somewhere someone playing a saxophone. Through the swarm of crowds, I could not figure out who it is was or where the music was playing. That is what I love about New York, beneath the energy of the city, the city can terse time into smaller pieces of melody. Continue reading “Discretion Part 2”

Culture · India · Letters · Mumbai · Travel · World

The crazy Bunch I

I woke in the morning and saw my mother cleaning the house. I yawned and asked, “Who is coming now?”  I was feeling groggy, after a long time I was in the house where I grew up.

“Your Dadu from Dadar is coming,” answered my mother.  I got up brushed my teeth quickly. We are not really related by blood with grandfather (Dadu) of Dadar but nevertheless he was a grandfather who was an inspiration to me and my brother. Continue reading “The crazy Bunch I”

India · Letters · Travel · World

Winds of Change

He smoked outside the station and as it rained I ran towards him.

“Why did you call?” I asked breathlessly.

“I thought I would give you the good news first”, said Aditya.

“And the news is?”

“I got it Farooq. I am going to US”.

Now my friend and I have not grown up together. We did not go to the same school. We met at my ex-girlfriends party. We both met at a music concert though common friends. We sat on the steps of our college later where we shared a joint together. We discussed about Malmsteen and Galvin Harrison. We spoke about Iron Man and Bicycle Thieves. From that day on we learnt to drink whiskey and graduated to being men.

“That’s great man! Are we going to Gokul?”


We took a taxi from the CST station. We crossed the beautiful gothic buildings, which welcomed everyone from all around the world. I always felt these ornate new and old structures showed the world we have not forgotten the past and we are no less in the present.

Mumbai Continue reading “Winds of Change”