Latest Articles
Was it me or was it my sari?
This is an old essay I wrote for Newsweek. Recently three academic publishers from Japan asked for rights to publish it. When I tried to find this essay in my website, I couldn't find it. The folks in Japan sent me the link! So here it is.
Exhibition celebrates vessels as repositories of stories
“Vessels have contained community, connections, family, emotions and the warmth of the hands that crafted them."
Why do Bangaloreans like single-colour chutneys?
Are Kannadigas minimalist like the Japanese, at least with respect to their food? I begin by thinking that they are and then come to quite a different conclusion.
Why Bangalore traffic is so great….
Recently there is some rather unwarranted talk about Delhi pipping Bangalore as the top contender for this position. I would like to submit that this is just plain wrong.
The Chef as Artist or Businessperson
Chef Manu Chandra who has many Are you an artist or are you a businessperson? There is no right answer, but each person’s answer will dictate how they approach their careers. Are you a chef-as-artist or a chef-as-businessperson? I write about this
Which idli-dosa is better? Tamilnadu or Karnataka?
In Karnataka, breakfast is a duet whereas in Tamilnadu, it is an orchestra. I may be wading into the Kaveri here, but a question arose recently in a mixed group about whether the Karnataka or the Tamilnadu interpretation of the classic idli-dosa breakfast was better.
Where to shop in Bangalore
Where to shop in Bangalore? This is one of the most frequent questions that I get asked by visiting friends: where do you shop in Bangalore? And the answer in the great Indian tradition is “Depends on what you want to buy.” The problem is that most visitors don’t know what they want to buy because they don’t know what’s available.
Taj Wayanad and Environs
Wayanad symbolises all that is romantic about Kerala. The region’s fragrant musk turmeric or kasthuri manjal is supposed to restore skin but finding it isn’t that easy. I go on a trip with my mother to find out if we can snag this wonder root.
Old favourites that I wrote for Condenast Traveler (US edition)
My Life as a Geisha
I have come to Japan to learn about allure. I’ve been married for seventeen years, and while my marriage isn’t falling apart, it is fraying at the edges. So I have come to Japan to learn about feminine allure from its acknowledged masters: the geisha. Geisha were created to pamper men—but they were also the freest women in old Japan.
Mumbai Meri Jaan
I am going to Bombay to become a movie star. Why not? Every country in the world, if it is lucky, has a city that allows people to create such gauzy fantasies unfettered by the grim shackles of reality. They thrive and inspire, catalyze personal transformations and fuel creativity, not through wide-open spaces but through vibrant congestion.
Goa Grows Up
Once a hippie haven where even India's tightly chaperoned teens could turn on, tune in, and drop out, Goa has lately gone upscale. Living in a trading port for the Greeks, Romans, Arabs, and Europeans meant that Goans were forced to interact with the outside world far earlier than the average Indian. This has made them friendly but not overly curious about foreigners.
Scuba diving Lakshadweep
I don't want to write about this place. Few people know of it; fewer still visit. Perhaps that's the way it should be. In this rapidly shrinking world, there ought to be somewhere that remains remote, even obscure; set apart in space and time; offering the promise of mystery, the romance of discovery. Lakshadweep—the name comes out in a sigh.
Lessons from my mother
The thought occurred as I eyed a stunning Persian carpet in a downtown Manhattan shop. The Mogul-inspired piece looked terrific but cost thousands more than I wanted to pay. The smile on the manager's face suggested that he was willing to bargain. But where to begin? Middle age brings with it the sobering realization that you can actually learn something from your mother.
Chasing the Mekong River
Cambodia is like a lotus bud concealing an onion—serene on the surface but eliciting tears as you peel back the layers. The scale of the Angkor temples contrast with the photos of skulls in the Genocide Museum. The peace of a Buddhist monastery gives way to the raucous din of tuk–tuks. I am in Cambodia to meet a monk and to travel the Mekong.
Finding a tai chi teacher
I have come to China from my home in Bangalore, India, to find a tai chi teacher. My pursuit of tai chi has been punctuated by such cultural challenges. When I informed my conservative Indian family that I was interested in tai chi, they were appalled. Why was their Indian child, heir to an ancient and proud tradition of yoga leaning toward an alien discipline?
Singapore fling
Staid, chaste, strict, small—Singapore has heard it all. But this island-nation of 4.2 million people has one thing going for it (many things, actually, but we'll get to that later): Singapore is a sure fling. Having lived in Singapore for two years, I have returned wanting to revel in it as a tourist—to see it all and do it all within forty-eight hours.
Wild at Heart
Bangalore is home. I didn't always live here—until two years ago I lived in New York. But now this is the city where my kids go to school, where I hail auto rickshaws for bone-rattling yet perversely exciting rides to work and meetings, where I prowl pubs and malls in search of stories and sales, and where I go to Namdharis Fresh supermarket to buy organic grapes, too-hard bagels, and much-too-soft cream cheese in an attempt to replicate the Sunday morning brunches at my Upper West Side apartment.
Travel Stories (my favourite type of writing)
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