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Showing posts from January, 2014

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...

Last year

I have been meaning to write for quite some time, but I never found the patience to find a subject.  Trivial happenings make for good discussion, and sometimes, the serious topics fizzle out.  And then I thought, I never think when writing a blog post.  It just happens.  In any case, the writing sucks.  So, I thought, at least, let me continue the habit of writing something and worry later about the wherewithals of submitting the post for a Booker or Pulitzer. We saw a bunch of shows last year.  Newsroom was fantastic.  I liked the idealistic portrayal of the newsroom characters.  Aaron Sorkin brings the idealistic nerve in his characters to the fore with panache.  It makes for good viewing.  My wife tells me not to drool incessantly as soon as Olivia Munn comes on screen.  But then, she is awesome.  Yeah, even Olivia Munn is awesome. Then, my wife queued up The Wire from the library.  When you get past the first few ...