Driving in the hills is as much about skills as it is being courteous and considerate The pickup truck swung at a squirming angle, automotive viscera vulnerable in a groaning metallic crochet. A Honey Singh number gushed forth from the cabin like an aural flame thrower at the serene deodars lending the incongruity a flinching comicality. The truck had only moments ago brushed past me as it hurtled up the hill before plunging headlong into a ditch hidden by a steep gradient. The door opened and the driver emerged, a

Jadan would have passed by like any other town in rustic Rajasthan during midday – an ochreous vastness permeating in all directions, including upwards, which turns out to be buildings as you get closer – if it weren’t for Dipu who was with me to take the car, lent by my gracious host the Thakur of Auwa, back to Auwa. “I’m sure you will love it.” Dipu said. Since he had been on the phone with his girlfriend from the time we left, on the phone even when he occasionally

For a full ignoble minute I remember thinking Conan – Barbarian and Destroyer – was right. These halitosis hurricanes ought to be thwacked. I lay sprawled clutching handfuls of ebbing sand, my heart trying hard to squeeze itself out through the ribcage. Shooting stars swam in slomo in front of my eyes and I would have breathed through my ears if I could. After a while when I sat up I was told of many others who didn’t – sit up, that is. They couldn’t as their hearts had quit.

Dear dad, mom I am hoping by now one of my – four – sisters would have told you about my blog Wanderink.com. Mom, a blog is essentially a website only that it takes up a lot of time and gives nothing in return… something like what you said about cats after you had to give up your puppy Pepsi before that road trip to Goa with daddy. I was just about to update my blog with more sights from my recent visit to Rajasthan when I remembered your upcoming