This is a story from many decades back. I grew up in a village (a real one, not a weekend getaway), around the time India got its independence. For a kid growing up in circumstances like mine, books were almost things of luxury. Anything other than textbooks was hard to come by. In fact, the Read more…

I attribute my love for reading to two different instances. The first is a faint childhood memory. I was lying on my bed, along with my brother, and our mother was reading to us. We are young – maybe five and seven respectively. Bedtime stories were an inseparable part of our daily routine, especially when Read more…