Author Archives: Devyani Nighoskar

The year was 1947. A young man, Pilinja Laxminarayan Rao waited intently at the VT (now CST) station in Mumbai with a board in his hand that read ‘New Vasantashram.’ Anticipating the arrival of passenger trains,

The sea lends reason to believe in infinite possibilities. The feeling that once you set sail, anything might happen. That adventure, be it fuelled by discovery of the new or a tryst with an alien culture on familiar lands, is inevitable.

Latoya Ferns Advani doesn’t want to be an air-hostess, even though the question is asked routinely by well-meaning relatives. It’s not a totally outrageous (or random) enquiry. Her mother, Charmaine Ferns, joined Air India in 1976 and served the airline for 36 years. Surely, the glamour, exposure and opportunity to travel the world would be enticing to any young girl, but Latoya has heard a different set of stories too.

On a warm sunny day, I find myself navigating the by lanes of Dongri. They’re dotted with old hardware shops, new medicine shops and closed Parsi cafes. In a quest for a very special dessert that is numbered in its authentic presence in the country, I ask around for the ‘Kunafa Point’ until a strong sugary aroma hits me. The whiff in the air leads me to a small office and before I can even contemplate entering, a man peeps out.

Needless to say, it all begins deep down in the sea. Hundreds of them are born every few months and thousands of them swim in our oceans. For a few, life ends where it first begins. But for most, there’s a longer afterlife. From a slithery, slimy, light pink, lizard-like existence to a crispy golden, curried and fried

All eyes are on the queen. Lying slightly off-centre, towards his left, it seems like an ambitious target. Ishtaqaq drags the orange striker deliberately, never taking his eye off the board. Within seconds of placing it on the baseline, he strikes.

On an empty street in a quiet by-lane, trees sway in the mild breeze shadowing an old man that rests on a bench below it. A grandma sheepishly knits on her balcony; a teenager reads a book by a window.

I had always heard fantastical stories about the Konkan belt from hardbound travellers. They described its beauty with utmost passion, that there was nothing like it. Its turquoise blue waters that gently caress the virgin beaches, beautifully enveloped by the lush green Sahyadris.

Raashid Abdul Hakim is quick to point out that their kitchen only employs cooks, not chefs. As I try to unravel the complexity of his statement, he adds almost as an afterthought, “our fathers made sure that we learned to cook these family recipes before we took over the business.

40-year-old Shwetha* suffers from acute leukaemia. Her doctor says that she needs a bone marrow transplant, else the chances of her survival are next to none. Battling a life-threatening disease, Shwetha* hopes to find a suitable donor to be able to live her life normally. She soon finds out that her sister, Smita is a perfect match and the doctors encourage her to donate the marrow. 

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