Books and I have had a relationship like the one a tree has with its twigs and leaves – we are inseparable. However, it was not always the case. In fact, almost a decade ago, I was not much into reading. The very mention of books would drive me crazy. How crazy, you ask? Back Read more…

The year was 1983. My father, who was serving in the Indian Air Force, was posted from Singharsi, a nondescript town in then Bihar, to the garden city of Bengaluru. I was a fourth grader at the time, and I had to study everything all over again due to an accident that kept me out Read more…

My friends and I were once on a Goa trip. During our train journey from Vasco da Gama, I noticed that my friend was carrying Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist. Now, I had heard tales about parasmani (a stone that is said to have the ability to convert everything into gold), and I immediately felt like giving the book Read more…

You may wonder what inspired me to read and write. Well, it seems all hazy when I rack my brains. I do have a vague picture in mind, though: I was only seven years old. Just like any child my age, I too had a dream. I started writing songs, which may or may not Read more…

It was the month of July. I was travelling from Jaipur, Rajasthan to Chennai for an international cultural integration camp by train. The train journey usually took three days and four nights. As most Indians would agree, spending three days in a sleeper coach of Indian Railways is no mean feat. To add to your Read more…

It is often said that books are a person’s friends, philosophers and guides. This could not have been any truer in my case. Be it the childhood days spent honing my English-language skills or those attempts at filling my inner void, books were with me through thick and thin. That said, the one instance that Read more…