Close your I, Open your Eye.

Travelling comes naturally to those who are smitten by the idea of wanderlust. Though our busy schedules don’t easily permit the time to unwind, we somehow try to find a way. This is precisely what happened with me when I was posted in the clamorous city of Gorakhpur. Located at the far-east corner of Uttar Pradesh, the town serves as a religious center for many god-fearing Hindus. It also has the distinction on falling en route the famous Buddhist circuit. Having already explored much of the city’s surroundings, I decided to take a day off and make a quick trip to Nepal, which is barely an hour’s distance from Gorakhpur. My destination was Lumbini, the birthplace of Lord Buddha. I’d heard many tales from my colleagues about how wonderfully the sacred place was preserved and how magnanimously the richer Buddhist countries had constructed monasteries around the holy shrine. Without further ado, I contacted the nearest travel agency and booked a cab. The driver arrived fifteen minutes

My sister finished law and joined the local sessions court as an advocate in early 2000. Back then, women were not a common sight in regular male bastions, especially when it came to a small hill town like ours. The first few days were hard. The process of learning the practical aspects of jurisprudence and the task of making a space for herself continued simultaneously. I remember the evenings when she would come back exhausted and would yet jump into the kitchen to help mother prepare dinner. It was around this time when talks about her marriage first began to crop up. As it turns out, she’d already met someone during her LLB years and had made a decision in that regard. However, when it comes to Indian families, inter-caste marriages are a tough pill to swallow. My father opposed the arrangement tooth and nail. So did many others who thought that a girl marrying by her own choice was an inappropriate and imprudent idea. With everybody providing an unwarranted opinion and nobody ta

It has been a few days since the life that was Sridevi came to an abrupt end but the feeling of utter disbelief refuses to go. It is tough to come to terms with the fact that a woman who redefined Indian cinema in many different ways could embark on such a swift exit. As I read through the huge variety of obituaries and tributes which have been rendered to her by numerous media outlets, I can’t help but notice how they pay obeisance to the legend on an extremely superficial level. Mentions of her films are made in passing; titbits about her personal life are served with sensationalist delight and for some obscure reason, an air of mystery is created around her demise which almost borders on hinting at foul play. None of them, however, talk about her talent, her persona or the indelible impact she had on the minds of the millions who took pride in being identified as her ‘fans’. As the reigning queen of the 80’s and the 90’s, she’d captivated, enthralled and inspired at least two