A small house at the end of a long street. Once upon a time, the walk from the bus stop

March has arrived in Mumbai. A long low growl. A warning of days to come. Walking from Churchgate via Oval Maidan to Regal this morning was not pleasant. The trees helped though.
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Prayer and penance made some sense to me today. Or at least, why people turn to these in times of

I ordered fruit today. Like I do two or three times a week. My fruit vendor Suresh bhai always greets

Composting is a deeply satisfying and rewarding pursuit. It is a lot like motherhood. In some ways, more reliable. There,

Lately, there is a wonderful beginning to my day. At around 5.45 a.m., when the sun is edging over the hills of Alibag, an Oriental magpie robin sits on a gulmohar branch
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The trees, as always, offer a distraction from these mournful thoughts of crumbling buildings. The rain trees are making a

Lunch time traffic jam on south bound Lalbag Flyover. There is plenty of time to look around. A flyover offers

It’s a silent afternoon in Mumbai – there’s only the muffled sound of a single electric drill in the distance. No Metro work, no loud voices, almost no honking or traffic.
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Can you die and go to heaven twice in three days? If you are a Southern girl far from home,