Are you listening to the Kodaikanal rap?
The old woman in Palani—down the hill from Kodaikanal-- was trying to recruit me to be a movie extra. Muniamma looked like a rock star. She was about 80, with weathered skin about the colour of a coffee bean. She was clad in a soft white cotton sari sans blouse in the fashion of village women in Tamilnadu. Muniamma’s recruitment strategy was fool proof.
Videos to accompany Palani Hill & Kartikeya: Sacred Food: Mint on Sunday
My piece on Kartikeya, also called Skanda, was the cover story at Mint on Sunday. Best to read it here. Warning: it is long. I also made two videos to accompany the piece. You can see them in Youtube About the [...]
Radio New Zealand and Abdul Kalam
So they call from Christ Church on Skype on a rotating schedule of global correspondents. I shoot the breeze with the breezy anchor, Bryan Crump. This time: an ode to the late great Abdul Kalam; and movies that I liked. [...]
The Art of Judgment: for Mint Lounge
My uncle Sivaramakrishnan called from Mumbai this morning stating that he wanted to “capture Twitter". Do you have good judgment? How do you teach it?
Buy my book
Just got my ten author copies of Katha yesterday. They are beautifully packaged. Small enough to fit in a purse. It releases August 28th but you can pre order at the below sites. Infibeam has done the best job of [...]
Katha Review
Thank you Vijaya Pushkarna, for the generous review. I am supposed to have a Twitter conversation with you or The Week tomorrow, August 5th from 4 to 5. Have never done this before. Nervous. KATHA: TELL A STORY, SELL A DREAM [...]
For The National Abu Dhabi on London comedy
And I got to interview the legend: Keith Johnstone
Flora and Fauna in Sanskrit literature
For any nature-lover, this video interview with Naresh Keerthi, who is a doctoral student at NIAS (National Institute of Advanced Studies), Bangalore is a treat. I loved his lecture on the same topic here and got in touch with him afterwards. [...]
Memories are made of buttermilk for Mint Lounge
My first memory of buttermilk is warmth and darkness. I must have been five or six years old. Still confused by the mists of sleep, I walked into my grandmother’s kitchen, drawn by a comforting swishing sound. My grandmother was sitting on the floor, her legs spread-eagled and resting on the wall. Soft light filtered through the window in front of her. In between her legs was a heavy mud pot that was held firmly in place by a coiled towel.
Ajmer Dargah
Mint has been sending me on trips to various spots to write on "sacred food." This week, it is Ajmer Dargah. What a sensual experience. I respond to scents and sounds. The enveloping scent of roses was amazing. You have [...]
Love Chennai. Had fun writing this piece.
FRI, JUL 10 2015. 03 44 PM Anger management at a Chennai cinema How Shoba Narayan queued up to watch the latest Tamil indie and dished out multi-coloured combs to aunties I tried my anger management technique when I was [...]