Shajanram is a frail little person in his late eighties. Yet he moves gracefully, with the agility of a nearby desert antelope. The thick round glasses lying on his aquiline nose magnify the darkness of his black, almond-shaped eyes. The white beard and long moustache match the uniform colour of his shirt, dhoti, and turban. His smile is spontaneous, frequent and highly infectious, as his kindness.
He bows in respect to welcome guests in the home that he shares with his four sons, their wives and a total of twelve healthy and cheerful grandchildren. Shajanram does not speak a word of English. His facial expressions genuinely convey his feelings, passing through no filter, no social barrier. For the rest, a guide translates his sacred speech.
Mostly unnoticed, all art emerged from handicraft. The clay turns to a pot, the wood is whittled to a veena, the nylons weaved into a net...
It is early morning and it is time to go. Ramesh, the driver is waiting for us, his spotless car smelling of incense offered to the deity...
Get a glimpse of the unique cuisine of the Parsi community, documented through the waning Parsi cafes that were once an integral part...
This journey travels through the national parks and sanctuaries of North and West India, exploring indigenous wildlife species and migratory avifaunal species...
Waves wash down the parched shores of the beach as the sands glisten under the warm sun...
I first came across Arundhati Roy’s debut novel “The God of Small Things” as a well-read but little-travelled teenager...