Something I saw while surfing blogs. Being a foodie that I am, I couldn’t resist filling it up myself. 1. What’s your favourite table? The coffee table 2. What would you have for your last supper? I might kill myself…
Author: Shakti
If only
There are three things that have driven me to write this post. First the earthquake in China and the rising death toll. Second, the Jaipur blasts. Then I happened to visit my friend Sneha’s blog who wrote about the earthquake…
The fantasy rat-race
I want to be a superhero. I want to fly high, across the world. I want to fly into all the toy stores and get whatever I like. I want to be a superhero. When I will be a superhero,…
Art Attack
My first impression of Van Gogh was through the Childcraft series’ art and culture book. I remember seeing his paintings and reading about his anger. Yesterday, I saw a documentary about Van Gogh and imagined it to have information about…
A mother’s day realisation
I love intimate family traditions. There used to be a whole lot of them when I was a kid, but with time, they have dissolved and new ones have evolved. There used to be breakfasts on Sundays, which I used…
Losing My Religion
When one looks at a film like Khuda Ke Liye, a story of religious fundamentalism and racial profiling in the western nations, one expects to see how the West drives young Muslims to commit acts of terror. Blame it on…
Writing and rewriting
I am a writer. Its just a sentence but it weighs a ton. Everytime someone asks me what I do for a living I say, ‘I am a writer’. What is being a writer? Does it mean you simply write?…
Hunger Panger
Hunger is an illusion. That’s the latest theme of my life. I am surviving on 4 litres of lemon water, 4 cups of milk and trying hard to tell myself that its doing me good. It is in a way.…
The Imperfect Mr. Right
Here goes, I am publishing the first chapter of my novel on my blog. This is the reason why I have been so irregular with the blog… Dying for some feedback 🙂 ——— Chapter One: OneStop was a noisy place…
A slice of my life
An old fan on the high ceiling of an Irani café rattles and whirs. “How’s that lady we met. She runs a food website, doesn’t she?” Slurrp… A sip of stewed dark brown tea from a saucer. “The one who…