Squadron Leader Anil Sehgal
The author’s face is obscured by Dev Anand’s glass. To the right is composer-singer S D Burman
He was a classmate of our Air Force commander. So, whenever he was anywhere around the place Air Marshal Rajaram was posted at, Dev Anand would invariably make it a point to meet. That is when I met him at ‘Air Force Station Hindon’. Seeing him in flesh, holding a glass of whisky in his lanky hands and cheering to you was a scenario …
Apart from these pseudo-Bengalis, there also existed a Delhiite in our batch who claimed to be dying of a serious disease. If he was saying the truth then he deserves all the sympathy and empathy in the world. However, if he was lying (which is probably the case) then he deserves to be punished (like a night or two in jail can really put the hypochondria, the attention-seeking behaviour and the urban
…
Shaival Thakkar
The author talks about his time at Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU, Delhi) and his fondness for Bengalis.
I am a Gujarati. However, when I hear disparaging things being said about Gujarat or Gujaratis, I am usually on the side of the people who are saying it. We have many faults; we’re too money-minded, profiteering, lack cultural activities, we’re found everywhere in the world (which can be really annoying!). And of course the communal riots of 2002 are a huge shame on Gujarat. Some …
Kartikey Sehgal
“Do you have Jay-Z on your computer?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to put it in?”
“No, I don’t.”
She turned to look straight at her table, not far from where we were seated. Her malfunctioned laptop lay there, along with an empty cup of coffee.
“You don’t really listen to Jay-Z, do you? And you don’t like wearing such skirts either.”
“No, I do. I mean I listen sometimes… “, she halted and looked at her skirt, probably worried if it showed …
Kartikey Sehgal
Sitting in a library inside a coffee house. Outside, there are fragrant flowers. I remember a conversation with my friend at this very place a long time ago – between 1948- 1950. The setting was different then. Two friends talking about a girl.
Flowers are in an alliance with the vanity of women. At once, the romantic would breathe the air of jasmine flowers and harbour notions of never-ending love. It is when we can smell the unseen fragrances that we can imagine …
Kartikey Sehgal
Written for DNA
In a small and well-kept flat at Yari Road, there lives a short, frail and distinguished woman of 78 who can help you see a part of the literary world that existed from early 50s to the 80s through her large and poignant eyes.
Meet Salma Siddiqi, wife of renowned Urdu novelist Krishan Chander and an authoress.
She is a gateway to the golden moments of Indian literature.
Daughter of a…
Kartikey Sehgal
On the impermanence of life. And the constant passing of time.
The wind blew into the home by saying hello to the bell of God. A small silver bell hung by a nail and it twisted and danced when wind came to it. ‘Wind is saying hello to us, mother’, the girl would say or keep it in her mind to tell her mother when she returned from outdoors.
Perhaps the wind brings some message, some signal from God. In vacant moments, the …
Crimson
For a few moments every week, I allow myself the luxury of slipping into my make-believe world where you and I can pretend that the rest of the world ceases to exist, where I can pretend you are only mine. It might have just been a candid conversation for you when you told me how exactly you felt about me. But it tossed me onto a whole new plane of thought and imagination. Yes, it broke the illusion of platonic love with the opposite sex. Yes, it took away from the innocence of our friendship.
Nimesh Advani and
Ipsita Bandyopadhyay
“Snapshot of memories” or simply an awry screenplay? Nimesh Advani and Ipsita Bandyopadhyay think differently about the movie ‘Delhi-6‘.
Nimesh [1 out of 4] writes that “…there are so many characters and so many sub plots that I was confused where to look next…”
Ipsita [3 out of 4] writes that “Do we remember dreams/childhood memories clearly? But some events, images, sights, sounds, smells stand out.”
Shruti Garodia
Sahyadri School, was a home away from home. At the age of ten when I went to Sahyadri, it was simply an experiment, a gamble which could have worked out either way. But today when I am 22, I am grateful to my parents for having taken that gamble.
It was where I made a lot of mistakes and worked my way through. I don’t so much remember the syllabi but what I do remember is the lesson of survival, wherein you stand up for yourself, make your own choices and stick to them. It allowed me space, a great amount of freedom and time, to grow and explore various choices in life.