Far from the deadlines

As kids, we may have appeared to be arch-enemies, but as we matured, the attachment became as strong as the love between us. I consider myself to be very blessed for having, apart from warm and loving parents, a brother, who entered my life a year after I was born. Being the first child, I was usually the one who had to take heed of all parenting advice before my brother was old enough to take a stand. From pesky little brother to wise best friend  As we got into our teens, our relationship began to improve somewhat. I liked to play big sister to him and raised pettifogging objections as well. I protected and teased him at the same time. Although our relationship has been through a whole slew of ups and downs, now that we both belong to the adult group of the family, I consider my brother to be one of the most caring and wise individuals I know. The evolution of a sibling relationship I catch myself often traveling back in time and remembering with nostalgia those instances when we fel

Years back I decided to become a journalist with the full support of my mother, I had decided that whenever I would write my first article it would be on her. I wished to tell the world about a woman who had selflessly done so many things for her kids; her struggles in life and for a better life for her children; her efforts to pursue the house help, so that she agrees to educate her daughter; to persuade the people of our neighborhood to help keep the surroundings clean; her efforts to check monkey menace in my home town; her personality; her beauty, her charming behavior and high spirit in life; her will power and presence of mind, when all the aunties would get confused due to the chaos after an accident and she would be the first one to call the doctor and do the first aid... A well-educated and knowledgeable woman. Little did I know that by the time I was ready to join the profession, she would have been attacked by the deadly disease, giving a different direction to my first

As soon as you take it inside your mouth, it bursts. There is far more juice than you would assume the hollow of a well-bloomed puri could contain. You grin and try not to allow even a few drops of that tasty ‘pani’ go waste. To ensure that, you place your dish below your mouth in case it does. Does it require an express mention that what’s being relished is the undoubted empress of the chaat world, the redoubtable golgappa? For a dyed-in-the-wool golgappa admirer like me, it is an absolute pleasure to crunch this small world of incredible refreshment. There is no street food which is more street food than golgappa. If Barbara Cartland had had an opportunity to taste this marvel, she would have surely written a romantic novel on it. Since she did not, I decided to write on it. ‘Bhaiya jara ek plate golgappa dena’, is never an unsafe bet. The little sphere, a few chunks of potatoes, chickpeas floating in the hot-sweet water and that craving to have it as soon as the vendor puts it on th