WordPress tells me this is my 101st post. Wow! The day I started blogging, way back in November 2006, I never dreamed I would get this far. It all began far, far away in a land called Rediffiland. The Ilanders were a motley crowd of wonderful people. Some of the best blogger friends I made were early dwellers of this mystic place. We all came together, supporting, motivating and being there for each other as we learnt the ropes of blogging. Somewhere along the way, the place unravelled and most of us migrated to WordPress or Blogger. But the friendships that sprouted there haven’t faded away. They merely spilled over to Facebook and continue to thrive. Read the rest of this entry
Category Archives: The Indian Epics
The neatly woven baskets are out there, so are the smooth red earthen pots. Stacks of firewood tied up in neat bundles have arrived and so have the bricks to build makeshift hearths. Flowers have been wound into beautiful garlands, ready to adorn the Mother. The crowds have slowly started trickling in from near and far. The ones who can, have already booked their spots with friends and family and others are camping overnight to save theirs. Everywhere in the city, in the very air, there is a palpable sense of excitement especially among the womenfolk, as they gear up for the most massive event that Ananthapuri bears witness to … Attukal Pongala. Read the rest of this entry
This was originally published in www.yentha.com on Janmashtami, a few years ago, when I was doing a weekly column named Kochuvarthamanam for them. This article was the one for which I received the nastiest comments. Turns out this was also the column I had the maximum support for. Read the rest of this entry
Her fingers danced nimbly on the wet sand and she looked down upon the result. Funny how those few squiggles could hold her captive, as once again she sat entranced at the sight of his name. That feeling was as fresh as ever even after all these years. As fresh as the strange feelings that awoke in her the first time she saw him, striding by the waves.
He had seemed lost, looking for something or someone. His eyes wore a haunted look, muddled, wild and stormy as the seas on a full moon night. Something just broke in her that day when he came to a standstill in front of her and stared into her eyes. It seemed like all the torture in the world came to roost in those eyes. Pain, inexplicable and unbearable was etched into every pore of his being.