I take a group of bloggers on a heritage walk around the Charminar. We discover a bunch of stuff about the iconic Charminar and its heritage, as well as some yummy food, the chef's ancient but still-working communications system, and of course, lots of stories!
Under attack by villainous winged vermin, and thwarted at every turn, I have to dig deep into my fighting reserves to face the flying scum that desecrate all that we hold dear. Do I rise to the occasion? Or to the birds have the last cackle? Find out this and more in this thrilling post! Oh, and tell your friends to find out too!
A chance misreading of a letter sets in motion a long rambling account of what happens in my mind when faced with an unexplainable phenomenon. Also a bit of fun about living in the age of STD booths and inland letter cards.
A very personal account of a few hours spent at my hometown, reliving some childhood experiences and savoring the gentle pace of life.
I cycled the eight kilometers from work to home, and cycled back to work the next morning. This was part of ‘Bike to work Day’ at work. This got me thinking about my bicycle-borne adventures, bringing back a flood of memories.
In the beginning of September 2010, Vidya and I took a jungle holiday in Uttara Kannada. The one thing that stood out in this trip was how we kept seeing Hornbills, and how sighting them shaped our holiday. This is the story of that holiday.
A few weeks ago, I was stocking up on victuals at our local green grocer’s, which goes by the grandiose name of Veerabhadra Vegetables. Veerabhadra Vegetables is by no means a mean place – on the main road from Kothaguda to Miyapur, its location opposite Shilpa Park gives it a strategic advantage that the grocer has turned into an excuse for the most alarming (to outsiders) Nawabi attitude. It is also this that endears him to all his customers, me included. Wasn’t this the guy
Last week, a census taker visited us, and for the first time, included us in the National Census of India.
The only previous memory of being included in the census was in the 1981 census, when I was staying with my grandparents in Bangalore for the summer holidays. My grandmother was sitting on the stone step outside the front door, removing adulterants from rice, when the census taker visited. My grandmother being a teacher herself, she got into a conversation with the census taker, who was also
Last night, I took a series of share autos to reach home from Panjagutta, and this seems to be an opportune moment to take a look at this alternate public transport system that so effectively supplements and complements Hyderabad’s official public transit systems.
My ride was simple enough – I got into a share auto in front of the Y2K restaurant at Panjagutta. Once I got in, it took about three or four minutes for the auto to fill up. The driver kept calling out the destination of
Eight life lessons from an afternoon of making pakodas