A waiter deposits a hooded plate between us and pauses for a fraction of a second before removing the cover, revealing a number of warmed dates, stuffed with Stilton, wrapped in bacon. Continue reading
It was the night of the English Premier League game between Chelsea and Manchester United. My son, all of eight, and I settled down in the den to watch, he in an already excitable state of nervousness over his favourite club’s – Chelsea, not United – prospects. Continue reading
A few days ago I was given Jerry Pinto’s first novel. After a very long time I was reading a novel that made me pause every now and then and say to myself: Gosh, he is good! This book is amazing. Continue reading
This week’s poet is Menka Shivdasani. I first met Menka in 2001 when we shared a cottage at a writer’s workshop in New Delhi. Menka is one of India’s finest poets but what I loved as much about Menka as her poetry is how easy she makes it to be with her.
And there was Menka’s mini immersion heater thingie she carried around with her so she could brew a cup of tea no matter where she was ! [I have been searching for one of those for god-knows-how-long now.]