wutheringheights

Thirty-five years ago, when my uncle bought a Bajaj Chetak scooter, many came to see it. “Please don’t apply front brake, the vehicle will skid, and you may fall,” said one. “Green is nice,” another one said, praising the colour of the scooter. “Can you handle it?,” an elderly couple asked my uncle, taking a dig at his short stature. He laughed and checked the orange colour indicator of the schooter, the way a child learns about digits. One, two, three, four… When he turned the switch on, the light blinked, like a melting orange chocolate. Soon, his wife, who is taller than him, came to the front yard. She was fond of scooters as her father had a Lambretta. Even though many raised comments, no one tried to read the name of the brand which manufactured the scooter. The aunt rose to the occasion, after looking at the scooter. “BAA … JAAAJ,” she whispered. A little boy who was standing near her heard this and he tried to correct her, Aunty, it’s Bajaj, not BAA JAAJ.” Aunt smiled;

REACH Foundation's Citation of Merit 2018 

https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/chennai/file-that-could-solve-boses-death-mystery-closed-for-100-years/articleshow/61856208.cms

I love rains. But I was a bit angry when it suddenly started pouring as I reached Krishnagiri on my way to Hosur to attend a seminar a week ago. I stopped my bullet in front of a small hotel and walked in. The idea was to have a tea and wait there until the rains gets over. After seeing people eating porotta, I had a second thought. I asked the man what was available to eat? "Sir, Chapathi, porotta and Thalakkari," said the young owner of the hotel. I never tasted Thalakkari in my life, but that was the only curry-item available now. I told him to give two porottas and a plate of Thalakkari. The man asked the old lady to clean my table. A plastic plate covered with a plantain leaf was placed in front of me. I started eating the porotta, looking at the Thalakkari. Bones in different sizes and shapes. I literally struggled, after trying to bite the fleshy parts from the bones. But eating Thalakkari is an art in itself. I somehow finished the porottas with the help of the gravy

Sanjaay threw a citrus fruit straight up in the air. He then caught it with the accuracy of a cricketer. The ‘game’ was on. He was not successful in all the attempts he made. The fruit sometimes slipped out of his hand while catching. But that didn’t bother him. Was it a catch-practice session? No, ‘uska dimag kharab ho gaya hai’ (something wrong with his mind), said the ice cream vendor, who was clueless about how many times Sanjaay threw the fruit up in the air. And how often he caught it. Dropped it. Saanjay even risked his life getting on the road while running to catch the ball  But there was skill.  He knew how to handle the traffic People gave him dolls, shirts... He accepted gifts, but never asked anyone for money Sanjaay never looked at people who watched his action. His game began with throwing the citrus fruit up in the air and ended by catching it He jumped, slipped and at times fell down. Did he miss any important catch while playing cricket in his you

2003. I was sitting inside my office of the New Sunday Express when a colleague walked in with a white polythene bag half the size of a pillow. The hall had a separate room for the Editor, which remained closed with lights always on even when he was out. "Hey, can I use this room for five minutes? I am going for a party tonight and I need to change," she asked. I didn't know what to say. I never heard anybody using the Editor’s room for any such ‘changes’ before. Apparently, she didn’t wait for my response. "See, I am using this room for five minutes, ok,?". She opened the door and then locked it from inside. I was alone in the department, and now a pretty girl inside the Editor’s room. Even though the Express office on Mount Road functioned in a very old building, it had a well-furnished washroom for ladies. Why didn’t she use it? I thought for a moment. Should I peep her through the ventilator? I knew if I wanted to do something, I must do it in five m