There’s a particular scent that seems to follow Indian food around the world. It doesn’t matter if you’re in a rain-slicked London lane, a sweltering
There are moments when the soul craves an escape, a journey not just across miles, but through memory itself.
There’s a story my grandmother used to tell, a folktale passed down through whispers and winter evenings. She told it …
We walk through our days encased in a bubble of our own making. It’s a fragile thing, spun from to-do lists, pending emails, fragments of
When we hear the word grief, our minds often turn immediately to funerals, condolences, black clothes, and tears shed at the edge of a grave.
Here’s a confession: I have a book problem. But it’s not the one you might think. It’s not the towering TBR pile (though that is
There’s a certain kind of book that finds you exactly when you need it. It doesn’t always arrive with a flashy cover or a booming
There’s a moment, right after the adrenaline of the move fades and before the new routine sets in, where the silence becomes deafening. It’s not an absence of sound.
There was a time, not so long ago, when “Indian cinema” conjured up a very specific, often caricatured, image for many outside the subcontinent:
We grow up in a culture that worships perseverance. From the posters in classrooms screaming Never Give Up! to the LinkedIn posts glorifying 16-hour workdays,
A meal is rarely just a meal in India. It’s a ceremony, a prayer, a marker of identity, and a language of love. Here, the
Crafting Your Sanctuary: The Unspoken Magic of a Reading Nook Let’s be honest. We don’t just read with our eyes. We read with our hands,
London is a city of grand statements. It announces itself with the iconic chime of Big Ben, the regal stoicism of the Tower of London, and
Some journeys are measured not just in miles, but in the sheer commitment it takes to reach the destination.
We are, by nature, creatures of the map. We chart our courses, whether for a weekend road trip or a five-year career plan,
There is, perhaps, no more honest a biographer than one’s own bookshelf.
Food, for me, has always been a language of its own, a silent dialect of love and memory.
Travel, in its purest form, should challenge us. It should hold a mirror up to our preconceived notions and, occasionally, shatter them.
There are certain places on Earth that are so saturated with history and human emotion that to visit them is to step through a portal.