How did you come across Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities and decide that you wanted to work on illustrating the cities written in the book? Tell us a little about this project in detail. It’s a long story, but I’ll do
“It was a dark time and everywhere the soldiers had made sure we were thirsty for their garrisoned water.” —Agha Shahid Ali, Call me Ishmael Tonight Kashmir is a sad place. There is sadness in the stories people
I heard Prince died. You heard too? I bet you did. Of course everyone did. He was 57, wasn’t he? You see, we even know that he died “suddenly”. This news was conveyed to me by that grumpy old josser
“I am an image. Shah Rukh Khan is an image…and I’m just an employee of that image. Now whatever that image, some girl sees pink, some boys see black, some women see beautiful, some people think ‘overrated’, it’s an
Civilisation” is a word that evokes cultural sophistication. It suggests knowledge, enlightenment, arts, sciences, and commerce. It implies intellectual and material progress and a moral consciousness. At its root, though, it literally just means being “citified.” Similarly, “civil” connotes refined,
You are either born in the city or move to the city, but eventually the city draws you to her. Things happen in the city—history and robberies, love and violence. Time happens in the city, and upon this time all
A friend is eavesdropping on two young men meeting for what is obviously a date in a coffee shop in South Kolkata. He sends me live updates on Facebook on the topics of discussion as the evening progresses. Cigarettes. The
Sometimes, Chennai feels more and more like the Kuala Lumpur I moved here from,” I told a friend recently. I meant this mainly in terms of material comforts—the international franchises, the brands, the dining options, and so on. More personally,
I write out a recipe for a nice, traditional dessert we make for festivals in Karnataka. Nandini Milk is what I grew up on after we sold our cattle and couldn’t get fresh milk any more. From the state-owned milk
And so on a narrow Jaipur road, I suddenly remembered Alok Dhanwa reciting his famous poem where a girl who has run away from home can be found anywhere, even in upcoming countries where love will be an entire occupation.