People of Id

Blogger Arvind Passey toss an interesting question. Beginning with Kerala is punished because of people eating beef there, Girls are raped because they eat chowmein, carry cell phones and wear jeans. before the Robusta fans the grey cells red, he tosses his first question... What is wrong with our netas?  Why do they make such... Continue Reading →


Thus speaks silence

“Gauri was too much,” “as woman she should not stepped boundaries” These were the comments older women had to say about Gauri Lankesh. Just as I was trying to sort this out, there feminist bloggers claiming Gauri was killed because she was a woman, she was a feminist etc. Etc. Conveniently forgetting the death of... Continue Reading →

Promise to Keep

The trance had just set in, “Where are you?” “It looks like a forest; I can see blue mountain tips.” How are you feeling? “Happy without worry but there is also a sense of excitement as if something huge is going to happen. I can see her coming...” “Who?” “Perumalar” “Do you know her in... Continue Reading →

Morning Hues

The deep protective shelter of Ratri Devi is gone. To quote the famous Kannada poet Kuvempu “udayachaladalli ravi baruva chinne aruna chavi”  The orange hues of Aruna the charioteer of Surya the sun god heralds a new day. But he can only enter after Ratri Devi bestows us to the gentle warmth of Usha the... Continue Reading →

Much Ado about Nothing.

Robusta it is, though the coffee vending machine in 91 springboard is combusta... let me go close my eyes and see what is that I can share. I feel like the kid I was in 3rd grade, my first trip to Bombay and the ditty, “half a circle, full a circle, half a circ le... Continue Reading →

Know thy Smile

It is Friday, and Friday is about Mango meadows and Robusta. With the pouring rains, every self respecting potato, wraps itself in flour and jumps right into the hot oil... can you smell it? here I am harate...Kaapi and golibhaje on.(ie is gossip, coffee, and golibhaje). It must be something about Friday, which evokes the... Continue Reading →

Kid Word

Friday evening again, Instead of the usual, evening at either Mango meadows or Diwan-e-khaas, it was an evening at 91 springboards with susegado homemade mango beer. I normally like my drink bitter and hot or sweet and cold and not any other permutation or combination. But strangely the cold acrid taste of the mango beer was... Continue Reading →

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