His stomach rumbled the third time in what could not have been more than ten minutes, convincing him that he'd finally have to get up and make his way to the toilet. The digital clock mounted on the wall displayed some numbers, but at his age and in his predicament, the numbers no longer made... Continue Reading →
This is to all the readers who, at some point in time, end up losing their grip on life (and by life, I mean reading), and having lost their weapon then struggle to cope with the adversities in life. This is about how I regained my confidence in reading. But more importantly, this is a heartfelt gratitude towards a pre-eminent Indian philanthropist and writer - Mrs Sudha Murthy.
It pained. Like it never did in the past. The kind of pain that happens to everyone at least once in their lives and makes one believe that it would last forever. He would have traded his life for all he cared if only that was an option. But some pains are like that. It... Continue Reading →
"We, in our final analysis, have to survive on our own. Seek congeniality in those who are living; for company, turn to the dead." These sheer simple words yet utterly profound, naive as a universal truth yet a conundrum like a complex code, kept reverberating in his ears. What did his brother mean by them?... Continue Reading →