Category Archives: Diary

They used to visit in summer . . . boiling, hot summers. My cousin, my brother, and I would raise hell. In our quieter moments we played Ludo. Meals were served on big dastarkhwans with our families sitting around it on … Continue reading →

… Perhaps one mourns when one accepts that by the loss one undergoes one will be changed, possibly for ever…I do not think, for instance, that one can invoke the Protestant ethic when it comes to loss. One cannot say, … Continue reading →

Some of my fondest childhood memories are of 12 Rabi-ul-Awwal. We used to make models of cities from mud and dirt on a slanted wooden board held up on one end by bricks. Some used just a big enough mound … Continue reading →

My father played Carom with gusto and skillfully employed many different kinds of shots, including the scissor shot. As much as I remember, in a scissor shot you place your index finger slightly on top of your middle finger, with … Continue reading →

Reading the coverage of protests in Egypt arouses in me that odd mix of feelings of helplessness, restlessness, and excitement that I have become familiar with. I observed the lawyers movement from the comfort of my living room on internet … Continue reading →

Legend has it that in Sundarban jungle, the one who turns around to look, turns into stone. This became a widely used metaphor in Urdu poetry. A metaphor for the debilitating effect of remembering what was, temporally and/or spatially, left … Continue reading →