• Murder most futile The earth was damp and loamy, and the grass wet. It had rained all night. I stood on the pathway edging the cemetery and watched them walk toward the grave, picking their way among tombstones. Bush and nettle had overgrown, colonizing every spare space. The neem and peepal trees loomed large, the mighty sentinels standing guard over the dead. ... Read more...
  • An artist true to himself, true to his soil Every morning after breakfast you will find Abbas Batliwala in his studio communing with his canvas. “It’s the best time of day,” he says. A time to reflect on inner universe. From its unknown depths emerges an insistent creative urge that has defined his destiny and given him his true calling. If not for this urge Abbas would have been just another shopkeeper. “I’m no more than a salesman,” he says. Not for him the airs of an artist. He makes light of his talent and fame. Read more...
  • If the media says it’s a disaster, it must be so Whenever there is a natural disaster there is an outpouring of sympathy and compassion. Which is only natural. When the catastrophes cuts a wide swath and is as dramatic as the recent earthquake in Haiti, much of our compassion is driven by the media. Not that our milk of human kindness does not flow on its own, but the media sort of sets the agenda as it does in so many other aspects of our lives. Read more...