Posts from the family category.
This is the story of two women (one mother, other mother-in-law of the author) from different cultural backgrounds who brought their families together through - food!One represents Tamil tradition, known for simple and balanced South Indian flavours. Tamil cuisine developed from agrarian practices and temple culture, with rice, lentils, coconut, tamarind, and spices forming its base. The other rep...
There are houses you live in. And then there are houses that live in you.While reading Whispers of the Buried Past by Harshali Singh, I kept returning to that thought. This isn’t merely a haunted-haveli story. It feels more like standing in a courtyard at dusk, knowing something is watching from behind carved wooden doors that have absorbed generations of whispers.The Haveli in Old Delhi doesn’t f...
The message from Adrian came at 11:17 a.m.“Client presentation tomorrow 10:30 a.m. Conference Room A. You’ll lead the relationship strategy.”Kaia read it twice.Lead.Not assist. Not support. Lead.A steady breath left her.She walked into his cabin five minutes later, notebook in hand.“You called for me?”Adrian looked up from his latop.”Yes. We’re pitching to Westbridge Holdings tomorrow.” He slid a ...
Morning arrived the way it always did at Chapter and Brew.soft light slipping through the windows, the hum of espresso machine, the scent of baked comfort warming the air.Kaia unlocked the door, just like every other day.But today, something was off.She moved through the cafe with practiced ease - switching on lights, setting chairs right, tying her apron - but the rhythm felt slower, heavier. Her...
“Ekad baa”..I called my daughter “come this side” as she was strolling all over in the train to explore it. I was calling her repeatedly and this word stuck in my head. Me being an over thinker, the thoughts lingered for no reason.Ekad Ba - in Kannada ( north slang) - come this side Ee kadea Ba - in Kannada ( Bangalore / south slang ) come this side Eekade Yeaa - in Marathi- ( come this side)Ika...
I read True Treasure slowly at first, the way one steps into an unfamiliar house — alert, cautious, noticing the light and the corners. By the third chapter, that caution dissolved. I wasn’t visiting anymore; I was sitting on the floor with these lives, listening. This is the kind of book that doesn’t knock loudly for attention. It waits. And somehow, you lean in.Sudha Vishwanath’s debut novel arr...
Some books announce themselves loudly. They clear their throat, adjust their spectacles, and declare, “I have something important to say.”The Daughters of Shantiniketan doesn’t do that.It sits beside you quietly, like someone at a café who doesn’t interrupt your thoughts — until, suddenly, you realise they know exactly what you’ve been thinking all along.I began this novel expecting a family saga ...
My fathers shawl. This shawl is more than just a piece of cloth to me; it's a symbol of my father's love. He loved it for its quality and warmth, and it's been with me since I left home for studies and now for marriage. It's my go-to companion during travels and winter days.Whenever my father sees it, he can't help but praise its goodness and reminds him how it kept him warm during his pilgrimage ...
It was during my 10th standard, and tuitions were almost compulsory. It didn't matter even if one was great at studies; one had to attend tuitions. There were three batches: Early Morning, Morning, and Evening batch. The Evening batch wasn't my choice, and I couldn't join the Morning batch – most students of this batch were from my own school. I just wanted to avoid the same group of friends. So, ...
Somedays, I used to ask my father to draw something for me. And he used to. At least, that’s how I remember it . Or, it’s highly likely he might have chosen to try his hand in drawing himself. I don't remember to the point now, but he did draw for sure pretty enthusiastically.When in school, I loved drawing, sketching, painting. The dining table would turn into my art studio, with brushes, pencils...
