I stood under the big banyan tree, clutched the edge of my saree in my palms, tied it tightly around my shoulder and stared at the men standing around.
First, I shouted ‘Inqalaab Zindabaad’ Long Live The Revolution but no one responded. Then, I shouted louder and even raised my fist in the air. Again, nothing.
I stood there, humiliated, for several more minutes before they noticed me.
That was my first time on stage.
After that, my life changed.
***
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It all started at around 8 AM.
The chair is rickety. But, I perch on it every day.
It was 4 AM and Salma couldn’t sleep. She had walked over to the kitchen twice already, in search of water to quench her non-existent thirst.
I can see the small kennel door from my window. Treat is eagerly watching me from there - his tongue dangling out, his ears flapping.
In the four years that I have lived here, I have never seen them happy. They didn’t seem unhappy either. They were just okay, I guess.
Dear Ammi, Tohe chhov haz var peath? How have you been?
Like always, Vimal Murmu was narrating the story of Ramayana to his 5-year-old son.
In the pit of darkness on a March night, Roopinder Singh sat sipping santri - local liquor - with his brother.
Welcome to All Things Indian. Every Saturday, I unpack the complexities of contemporary India.
Three hours to showtime. My temples continue to throb. Drops of sweat flow down my temples, seep underneath my cotton top and roll down my back.
Welcome to All Things Indian. Eery Saturday, I unpack the complexities of contemporary India.
As soon as he saw the television screen, Mumtaz knew what was in store this Monday morning.
At 2 o clock on a freezing January night, when the cold reaches your bones, three layers of thick clothing seem like nothing but a formality.
I know why you hesitate to get out of bed. Not because it is a Saturday.
Welcome to All Things Indian. Every Saturday, I unpack the complexities of contemporary India.
Every year, on December 6, Javed felt lighter.He enjoyed the attention he got on his birthday.
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