After a postponement and much last minute anxiety, the Tokyo Olympics began last week. Thanks to Mirabai Chanu, India got off to a flying start and was momentarily second on the medals tally — a screenshot that is saved by many a netizen.
Ever since, it has been an all-too-familiar story of “c’mon, yeah, yes… oh damn” in nearly every sport for India. Equipment malfunctions, coach politics, lack of support from the system — there is Bollywood masala behind every Indian sporting disappointment.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to take away from how far we have progressed in…
We live in a day and age where journalists end up being newsmakers as much, if not more, as they are news-bringers — be it Ravish Kumar’s explosive rants and his Magsaysay win, or Arnab’s in-flight mood or shady tampering with TRPs. And just when one thought things couldn’t get murkier for the Indian journalist fraternity, Nidhi Razdan went and shot herself in the foot.
As conversations in friends and family Whatsapp / Signal groups vacillated between ‘Poor woman’, and ‘How daft!’ to ‘There is something suspicious…’, I was reminded of a deception that I was the unfortunate victim of.
Having written this post a little over two years ago, it is quite a surprise that here I am writing a post praising a TV series. But then, surprises have been the sine qua non of 2020.
Expectedly, I have seen no more than a handful of shows. And since I watch only a few, I pick the globally acclaimed ones, so I have hardly had major disappointments. This trend continued when, on recommendation from a couple of friends, my wife and I started watching this Canadian sitcom, Schitt’s Creek, sometime in July.
As far as the plot goes, this…
The habit of solving daily crosswords has been relegated to long mornings of the middle-aged, a medicine of choice for the reclusive, and, more often than not, a surefire way to be labeled a geek.
Crosswords have also never been big on my to-do list, largely due to the enormous patience they require and also because one has to wait for a day to know the answers to most newspaper crosswords.
An Italian Summer — Part I
This is Part I of my travelogue An Italian Summer — starting with the eternal city of Rome.
Rome was not built in a day. No surprises — it took us four days to visit it and we were left wanting for more.
Rome is a veritable explosion of ancient history, art and culture. That also means it is thronged by enthusiastic tourists throughout the summer, and it is wise to plan in advance in order to avoid long queues and inconvenience.
The central location of our hotel — the Westin Excelsior — ensured…
Pizza. Pasta. Vespas. Piaggio Autos. Julius Caesar. Romeo and Juliet.
Italy has been part of the urban Indian life for decades now.
So, it was no surprise that when we started planning our first Eurotrip as a couple, Italy was a strong contender. After weeks of deliberation and excited planning, we spent a fabulous two weeks traveling across the country and soaking in a culture that goes as far back as time itself.
Having recently written on the value of documentation, I decided to take a leaf out of my own book and put our planning process, itinerary and experience…
College, 2007. Two of my classmates stroll into class empty-handed. The professor asked them where their notebooks were, saw two blank faces and immediately asked them to leave.
Corporate office, circa 2017. A meeting group ushers into a room. A few walk in with coffee mugs, some are busy on their phones, and almost everyone is hoping someone is taking notes. But nobody does.
Blame it on our age and times, perhaps, but the habit of writing things down is becoming a rare one.
Not due to lack of advice to pursue it, though. From my first internship till right…
A lot of our childhood memories are based on a retelling of sporadic incidents by parents, siblings, and kith and kin. As for me, I remember exhibiting a few eccentricities as a kid — a trait I hope I have carried forward only sparsely as an adult.
A related, oft-recounted episode comes to mind.
We had a visitor in the form of a middle aged woman, distant enough to feature in a story in a blog but acquainted enough to smother me with a bone- crushing hug. …
I have never been an avid consumer of online video content.
However, in the last few days, having been subject to constant chatter about that mind-boggling TV show, and that hilarious movie and that eye-opening documentary, I decided to explore.
I managed to watch two Netflix movies over the past couple of weeks— The Guernsey Literary and Potato peel pie society, and The Last Laugh. I thoroughly enjoyed them regardless of their mediocre-to-poor IMDB rating.
While scrolling through the list of available movies, my only thought was, “That’s a lot of Netflix originals. Like, a lot!”. …
Sometimes you are in a car, and it feels like a mobile home of sorts. It has doors, windows, air conditioning, music, your phone, and even food if my mom’s traveling with you. It’s also roomier than half of Mumbai’s houses.
If you are in the bustling city of Gurugram née Gurgaon, it is very likely that your homely car is shoved into multiple temporary neighbourhoods a.k.a traffic snarls. I could have said “jams” but there is something onomatopoeic about the word “snarl”.
It was in one such neighbourhood that the occupants of the car ahead of me caught my…