

'Whoa' goes the babul
Angrezi babuls scramble from both sides eager for a prickly embrace, turns around with a ‘whoa’ just as you pass. We sped along a spit of a…

Self decapitation by a Kakatiya warrior
Decapitated, defiled or deified, the human body has always enjoyed centre stage in Indian art. Whether the unabashed exploration of the sexual we see in…

Katrina's Slice
Around this time two years ago Katrina Kaif sat languid, sated, gazing out of her boudoir, a reveur, across the floodplains of Betwa. Following her gaze through the viridian…

We looked for it here...
The alaap strained through the tightening dusk before it was devoured by the traffic cacophony on Achleshwar Road. Kaalu gave me a triumphant ‘Didn’t-I-tell-you-it-was-here’ look. In…

The sacrificial people (Picture courtesy: Survival International)
From Kalinga to Vedanta the transformation hovers around Ripley’s realm. Here was a bunch of people who, a little over 2,000 years ago, were…

The elation of driving into a heritage OD that is Gwalior is heralded by an eerie feeling: that you are being watched. The fort ramparts peering over boulder-strewn hills keep…

This Women’s Day we can feel happy and warm about the momentous strides made by women across spheres. I, personally, can vouch all the women in my life are better…

The highway became the set for a ‘Dream Girl’ song: save the noble-hearted, shiny-tessellated Hema Malini, vigorous gusts of translucent fog guffawed from many hidden directions enveloping my windscreen. What…

Matka man cometh
Many of the heritage marvels we have today were ostentatious self-indulgences, sandstone and marble diktats rooted in personal tragedies – and victories – and the ensuing emotional upheaval,…