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Rambles, Rhymes and Tales

Festive Specials food indi

yes, deep fried, of course.

it’s not possible to think of history while thinking of chops. especially mutton chops. and yet, i tried. one may not think that’s an achievement… and this would only be because one hadn’t had a mutton chop, the way bengalis make it. chop, to a bengali, is not a cut of meat. it’s a beatific smile inducing joyful experience that involves getting lost in another world while recalling exactly how mother or grandmother or boro ma or younger kakima, or…

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durga

City girl in town – A story in verse

Tanya reached home one day after finishing her class A cheerful happy day she thought it was Until her folks told her the news of the day From the city they were shifting to a town faraway A transfer was in order as a promotion was due It was something her father was looking forward to She was happy to be relieved of the city’s maddening pace She was sad as her friends would be far from her place The…

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Rambles, Rhymes and Tales

A Name Is A Name

Guest writer Lalita Arya examines a name and what really might be in it. There is a café called Bagel T where I used to stop to have a cup of cappuccino when I managed to get an hour off to go for a walk. On the east coast of the USA near Princeton, the weather is much more pleasant than the mid west where I lived for many years. Even in winter I consider the weather mild. But for…

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Rambles, Rhymes and Tales

a meeting in petra

“what’s your name?” i asked the young boy sitting casually on his mule, the glittering red sandstone city all around us. his eyes sparkled as he grinned at my question; his had a scuffed look, his skin was tanned; a couple of his front teeth were missing, why did that seem to add to the smile? he must have been about eleven, maybe twelve. he lounged there in his fading blue clothes on his black mule, a worn saddle cover…

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aarwen food

What’s Cooking Today?

what is cooking

Apparently, guests are the equivalent of Gods. And the one thing I have learnt over the years is that these categories of gods pay special attention to food and drink. You have dreamt of this perfect summer with you as the perfect host. One that is going to make the Gods happy. You wake up as early as possible; high chances are that an old aunt woke up earlier. So you rush to make her morning tea. By which time…

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indi

the parrot green umbrella

i won’t start singing but hoisting that umbrella over my head and dashing out onto the glittering rain lashed zebra crossing i did feel like mary poppins the other day. remember ms poppins? she who sits on a cloud and pulls lamp stands out of her carpetbag? and sings a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine…? and flies off with you to who knows where? whenever i think umbrella, i see her sitting on a cloud, powdering her nose, then…

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aarwen

A reason to smile

A reason to smile

Someone decided today’s is best friends day.. We wish you celebrate friendship every day.. Reposting.. I must writeFor I must capture this feelingWill it do, to put it on blog?While my head is still reeling..Shall what I put in words,Typed with my hand shakingMake sense to meWhen I re-read it in the morning?The strong sweet memory,Of friendship and night long talking.A decade has passed since we metAnd yet, in happiness, my heart is gushing. Have you had that one friend…

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indi

remember the code?

this morning, twitter took me to an article in the washington post, which in turn hauled me straight back to school. 1976… or was it ’77? grade ten or eleven. we all had to do a national cadet corps (ncc) certificate course. tt was compulsory. that’s when we heard “dit dit dit dah dah dah dit dit dit” for the first time. our instructor was teaching us morse code. the dit was a short sound, the dah a long one,…

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indi Poetry

for b

who reaches through the shredding the dreadful denuding who thrusts away the demon embedded entrenching who catches the sun and brings it to the cave tell me, girl, who who holds you when light has gone who touches you when nothing remains who sings to you when the hour breaks faith who, tell me, girl, who who will cleave you as they deceive you who will cover you as they unclothe you who will raise you as they inter you…

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indi Poetry

the battle

my heart was in a battlefield today defeat had touched my dreams truth as i had always known it to be writhed torn and begged to breathe   demons came raging from hidden caves demolishing my faith, denouncing my dawn mortal wound crushed my land as it lay twined in my ambushed heart   then a sound came near from far away so far it exceeds all my reach and yet it was here, carried on another sound whose decibel…

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