And this time, I am going up, north, to the hills. Almost 2700 Kms from here, one way, on rail. Will write more. And, I have just posted 2 new entries, below.
Last year we got gmail from Google. Wonderful concept of never being able to delete any of your email, ever. And the space keeps on increasing. This year, of course, we got the Instant Messenger, Google Talk. No clumsy graphics, neat interface, ability to talk with anyone on the list by push of a button.
In the middle of the Bihar election results, one news initially went without notice. Manjunath, a manager with the Indian Oil Corporation (IOC), had ordered the closure of a petrol pump in Lakhimpur Kheri (State of Uttar Pradesh) sometime back. He was murdered. The petrol dealers in the area never followed the norms. They sold
Nilanjana Roy points out in her article, what I have always believed- that, Rushdie, Seth, Ghosh and Mistry have been the best that Contemporary Indian Writing has had to offer. Add to it, Authors like Jhumpa Lahiri and Suketu Mehta now having come of age, it is this group of writers, that will continue to
I wish and I hope that I am able to watch this at Rangashankara sometime in the next couple of days. More information, here. Update: [17 November 2005, 1910 Hrs] All tickets sold out :-(
I remember Uma once wrote a post about the worst books ever written (worse still, published!) and Anurag Mathur’s “The Inscrutable Americans” fitted the bill for quite a few, including yours truly. Now, it would be almost ridiculous to compare the likes of Mathur to modern Indian literary giants like Rohinton Mistry, Amitav Ghosh and
The rain kept on pouring on the bus, in all forms. There were brief periods when the breeze had some private moments with the bus, but overall, the rain intruded most of the time. I could see the windshield and have the driver’s view on some occasions. The wipers kept working overtime. The view on