The Ocean At the End of the Lane

By the time I finished The Ocean At the End of the Lane, I wanted a cheese sandwich. Nothing exotic. Continue reading →

Mr. Rushdie, I presume

So Salman Rushdie’s memoir, Joseph Anton, is out. It’s about his fatwa years and it’s 630-ish pages. I think it’s priced Continue reading →

Put in Perspective

One of the Indian intelligentsia’s tragedies is that to campaign for the right to self-expression, more often than not, we Continue reading →

Waiting for Melquiades

Living to Tell the Tale was supposed to be one of three volumes and I remember when it was announced, a Continue reading →

Mom and Mavis

Given it is called the Man Asian Literary Prize, there’s something to be said for the fact that a woman Continue reading →

Deborah Baker in Mumbai

I’ve lost a notebook (again). It was a Moleskine (weep). This has goaded me into opening up a notebook that Continue reading →

Dear Liar

come to the theatre, or open this book, and we’ll lie to you. Ian Leslie writes this in this neat Continue reading →

Soul to Soul

This is actually going to be a quick-ish post because my hand is in serious pain. Why? Because I spent Continue reading →