Bundling Borges into Bandra

I am now officially one of the employed. This has, for reasons inexplicable to me, led to me re-reading some Continue reading →

Cheating

(From The Telegraph.) Unlike the sadhus we generally see on tv, at least this one’s an honest cheat, which is Continue reading →

Three Cheers for Paul Beckett

Now this is how a festival diary should be written. Paul Beckett, you, sir, are a genius. (Not that he’s Continue reading →

And We Have A Winner

A couple of days ago, I mused that I wasn’t sure if the government of Rajasthan deserved the Wimp of Continue reading →

Applied Humour

Since my own sense of humour seems to have gone on an indefinite strike, I am going to outsource some Continue reading →

Salman Rushdie and the Jaipur Literature Festival

This is rare. I’m so livid that I don’t actually know how to start. I also wrote “know” as “no” Continue reading →

Homai Vyarawalla, OK Tata Bye Bye

Homai Vyarawalla, India’s first woman photojournalist, died earlier today. The last time I saw her was in 2010, when the Continue reading →

The Blue Guitar in Calcutta

It’s about to be one of these entirely surreal Kolkata-in-winter Sundays. Derby in the morning, darling, I was informed. This Continue reading →