Real India is still in the villages and viewed best from the highways. I spent a sizable chunk of 2013 travelling in the north and central regions of the country on assignment. Besides learnings and memories, friendships and experiences there were also the photographs. Prodders, grabbers, freezers. Stokers of the intangible. A handy tool while stringing words – a sort of un-glue when stuck. Often unfortunately relegated to mere exhibits of oeuvre and photographic mettle, it throws light on the little seen and the vehemently felt. Neither in gray nor

Bet you never knew Mr Robert Vadra is not exempt from paying toll. Am kidding, sure you knew. Then, did you really? Know that the Gandhi in-law – unlike in airports in the country – was not on the ‘exempted’ list of highway toll plazas? I went through the entire list of 13 ‘exempted dignitaries’ to figure if I could bluff in anywhere; chances were kind of bleak that I could pass for anybody on the list from the President to high court judges for I was in a red

All the while I was in Kotwan I couldn’t shrug the queasy over safety of my car. My Red was parked right in the village square – or whatever you call four charpoys arranged in waking disarray under a grandpa tree – and some kids had already discovered the wonderful slide the hood would make. Still. The dusty, deserted place looked like one of those fringe urban settings that it was – 100km from Delhi, along the NH2 – where your car would disappear to one night to emerge a

Save the flirtatious cavorting the rest of it is still intact in Vrindavan. The guys are all Krishnas, women are Radhas and the cows a happy lot. What drives the thousands flocking to this part of brajbhoomi or land where Lord Krishna was born and spent his youth, attired in dhotis and half saris and accessorised with bead bags and peacock feathers is the assurance by Swami Prabhupada, Iskcon founder, that there is more happiness in seeking than in finding Krishna. On my last day in Vrindavan I had a

Die-hards of ‘Star Wars’ series getting into Darth Vader costume for premiere have always struck me as a bunch of losers. Then, I’ve done it myself – getting into ‘character’ that is. God forbid, not to honour Skywalker. A dozen-odd years ago when the first instalment of ‘Fast and the Furious’ came out I was in Kerala university PG campus. I borrowed an old 800cc Maruti from a friend in return for introducing him to a pretty one. Getting into character, I raced the 15km from Kariavattom to Thampanoor. Though