Letters of Gratitude (LOG)7: A River in Mysore, and Sarabhai vs Sarabhai
We went to Bangalore for what was meant to be a few days. It became a month. Aditi and Vikas never once…
We went to Bangalore for what was meant to be a few days. It became a month. Aditi and Vikas never once…
We found Kabir Sir almost by accident, at a dance studio in Delhi. We took the metro there, the two of us,…
My sister pushed me into this one. I resisted, the way siblings tend to do. Then I began attending weekend classes, and…
In the first year or two after Sanju died, my body started keeping records my mind had not agreed to. Both knees…
My son was enrolled in a children's theatre workshop at the Shri Ram Centre for Performing Arts, Mandi House, one summer. I…
I moved into this house a few months after Sanju’s death. For the first several days, the house belonged to cardboard boxes.…
I went back to the library not knowing quite what I was looking for. I only knew that somewhere inside me, the…