“RN by any chance? Read your Taco Bell article and took me back to early 90s Clemson. Were you HN and/or A’s roomie??” read the message in Facebook Messenger last week. I instantly recognized the sender and I was happily reacquainted with a friend whom I had last met in 1994. This was the second such instance of a friend…
My childhood was genuinely happy and for the most part carefree. I must admit though that a tyrant cast his shadow on my days throughout my school days. This tyrant was the “Bangalore Transport Service” or “BTS” as it was known then. Maybe “tyrant” is an exaggeration but I felt that my time was fettered and my life was ruled…
Curio cabinets or “showcases” as they are called, were a popular fixture in Indian homes when I was growing up. They housed items that the family considered to be noteworthy and worthy of display. These items were not necessarily of monetary value but of sentimental value. Sporting mementoes, handicrafts, family pictures, religious icons and pictures of saints and gods. During…
We had an interesting experience last week. I had stopped by the local Indian store to pick some Rotis (Indian flatbread) and when I returned, the van would not start. After trying to start the van a few times, I called my friend who graciously gave us a ride home. Nikhil was puzzled. He was puzzled to find himself transported…
There are many stereotypes of Americans, some positive and some negative. “Lack of cultural awareness” is one of the negative ones and to a certain extent, I have found that to be true in my experience. There were the occasional “did you have elephants and tigers in your neighborhood?” type questions when I was studying at Clemson. “How is it…
The wind blew through my hair as I pedaled excitedly down the street on a “Junior” bicycle. I was eight and my brother had been teaching me how to ride a bicycle. On this Sunday evening, I had finally managed to maintain my balance and pedal down the street without my brother’s steadying hand on the rear of the seat. …
If you lived in Bangalore anytime between 1970 and 2010 and loved reading and purchasing books, you have probably been receiving forwards in various WhatsApp groups about the recent demise of Mr. T. S. Shanbhag. Mr. Shanbhag was the owner of Premier Bookshop on Church Street, Bangalore, and was an institution to himself. He, sadly, like many others in India,…
It’s 1982 and I’m at the bus terminus waiting for the bus to go home after school. The bus has not showed up, so I have to wait another hour for the next one. I have nothing to fear though, I have just checked out “If Only They Could Talk” by James Herriot from the library and I happily perch…
“You could call me an Ichthyologist”. That was the rather grandiose statement with which I started my essay for the English language paper of my High School ICSE exams. We had been given three topics for the essay section. The first topic was the sentence “I was walking down the road when…” The second was the picture of a boy…
This blog is inspired by a conversation I had with my brother this morning. He is an orthodontist who besides teaching at a dental college also runs his own practice in the evenings. Six days a week. Needless to say, he is very busy, often out for thirteen to fourteen hours a day. The current coronavirus lockdown has seen him…