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Showing posts from January, 2011

When the Building Came Alive

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Kasturi Dhama Apartments — the play area where many evenings came alive. The lights would go out without warning. For a brief second, the entire building would fall silent. Then, from somewhere in Kasturi Dhama Apartments, a chorus would erupt. “Yayyy!” It is difficult to imagine children celebrating a power failure today. But in the Bangalore of the nineties and early 2000s, a power cut did not always feel like an inconvenience. Especially in the late evenings, it felt like permission. Permission to stop whatever we were doing, leave the darkness inside our homes, and step into the building outside. Before Kasturi Dhama became home, we had moved through a few different parts of Bangalore. My family had begun in Srirampuram and Vyalikaval before gradually cementing ourselves in Malleswaram for the next few decades. My earliest memory is of living in a vatara —a Kannada word loosely used for a building or a cluster of homes—on 15th Cross, near Karur Vy...

Wishing the truth

The Proposal - Part I It was a cold night, and she had lowered the glass on the passenger side of the brand new Honda City.  The chill wind was blowing across her face, bringing a new bout of freshness and in the process, bringing the stray strands of hair to the forefront.  She did not make an effort to pull back her hair, but instead sought to adjust the power windows by closing it completely, except for a very narrow beam of space, narrow enough to allow a sheet of paper to be sliced through it.  That was sufficient enough to chill the interiors of the car. The atmosphere was very quiet.  There was no ensuing conversation between us.  "Sahana, that's almost the nth time that you are adjusting the windows.  You preoccupied with something?" "Obviously, dad, and you know it, too! I also know that you are preoccupied with the exact same thing.  Otherwise, it is very uncharacteristic of you to keep quiet on a long journey." "OK, let me ask you f...