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@parwatisingari
Dr.Cahn Unfiltered.
It was one of those crisp London mornings where the fog hung over Harley Street like a damp wool blanket, but inside the Royal Neuroscience Center, the climate was controlled entirely by the force of my Aunt’s will. Dr. Victoria Cahn—spelled with a C, mind you, and never, on pain of death, mistaken for the common-or-garden Khan—did not so much walk down a corridor as inspect it for lingering…
Speculation Nation.
The Crime We Consume. The ceiling fan at Aunt Selvi’s place didn’t just rotate; it fought for its life at speed number five, throwing down a steady thwack-thwack-thwack of warm, coastal air that smelled faintly of dry fish drying on the neighbor’s terrace and the sharp, sour hit of Udupi mattugulla brinjal bubbling in the kitchen. Outside, the monsoon was doing its typical Udupi number—loud,…
Folded History Of an Unfolded Flag.
“Vijayi Vishwa Tiranga Pyara,Jhanda Uncha Rahe Hamara…” If you grew up in India, you don’t read those lines. You hear them. Usually through a loudspeaker that has survived three monsoons, two election campaigns and one overenthusiastic school annual day. The singer is almost always a child with more patriotism than pitch. Yesterday, 22nd July, was National Flag Day. Every influencer worth their…
Nitty Gritty and Integrity.
On the Matter of Integers, Bank Queues, and Dr. Victoria Cahn I was in the middle of a rather delicate morning ritual—colour-coding my To-Do list with the quiet intensity of a man planning a bloodless coup—when Dr. Victoria Cahn dropped by. Now, Victoria is not the sort of person to whom one casually offers a lukewarm biscuit. She possesses that formidable, razor-sharp pragmatic air that leaves…
One Step for Man A Leap for Mankind.
The Day Humanity Touched the Moon On 20 July 1969, I remember the adults in the house speaking in hushed tones. There was an unmistakable sense of awe. Apollo 11 had done the impossible. Neil Armstrong had stepped onto the Moon. Whether he actually said it exactly that way or not, history has gifted us one of its greatest lines: “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for…
The Declaration of Sentiments.
[Introduction: The Great 1848 Awakening] Dr. Victoria Khan clears her throat, adjusts her spectacles with an air of profound medical authority, and surveys the room like a seasoned aunt assessing a particularly dim-witted nephew. Ladies, gentlemen, and those still hovering in a state of existential indecision: We gather here today to commemorate that absolute topper of a historical mic-drop:…
A Warning From The Hills.
U Tirot Sing Day Today is the death anniversary of U Tirot Sing. Until recently, I knew almost nothing about him. I did not grow up hearing his name. I was not taught about him in school. I stumbled upon his story almost accidentally, and that accident has refused to leave me. Ever since, an uncomfortable question has kept returning—not about U Tirot Sing himself, but about the way we have…
The Grinch, Gin and Tonic and FIRGUN
Yup it is firgun and I will remind you to give your compliments generously. Envy the green eyed monster, or even the Christmas grinch we see. There are some of us who are generous enough to offer a comforting shoulder to someone in trouble. After all there is a halo attached to it. yet someone getting successful, sends us into the grinchworld, with envy being the spectre or…
Xocolatl Chiquitita ?
Confessions from a Grandma’s ‘Diary’ The afternoon sun filtered through the dusty louvers of the attic, casting long, amber slashes across the floorboards. Arasi sat cross-legged amidst the forgotten clutter of three generations—rusted trunks, stacks of Illustrated Weekly, and the faint, comforting smell of mothballs and aging paper. It was here that she found it: a thick, leather-bound volume…
Benzodiazepines
The Quiet Epidemic Hidden in Plain Sight Every doctor has patients who never appear to have a drug problem. There is the physiotherapist who keeps one Valium tablet for Saturday nights—not because she is in crisis, but because knowing it is there makes the week feel manageable. There is the young executive who carries a strip of Ativan in his wallet as an “exit policy” against unbearable…
Solitary Confinement
with 1.4 billion people. The Crowd Outside, the Quiet Within: Navigating India’s Modern Loneliness Epidemic We tend to think of loneliness as the physical state of being alone—an empty room, a quiet house, a solitary table. But true loneliness is far more elusive and far more painful: it is the subjective feeling of being emotionally disconnected, even when surrounded by a sea of…
The Swayam Rites.
The Funeral Cake and the Scotch Dr. Anna Marie looked at the clock and cursed under her breath. Five minutes had passed. It felt like an eternity in the suffocating, post-monsoon heat of the outpatient department. The hospital had emptied out, leaving behind the distinct, depressing odor of phenyl and dying institutional light. Her desk was clear, save for the file of one Vijaya—fifty-five,…
The Butterfly Effect.
Or Lack Thereof When did you last chase a butterfly? Better yet, when did you last see a child try to catch one? If you live in Goa, or merely treat it as your personal seasonal playground, take a moment over your afternoon feni to think about that. There was a time when walking down an unpaved village path in Bardez or Salcete meant keeping an eye out for a stray piece of rope that might…
The Great Indian Bore
Exporting Our Bad Manners Since 1947 Every few months, some brave soul like Akash Banerjee sticks his neck out and states the bleeding obvious: we Indians are not exactly adored when we travel abroad. Predictably, the national blood pressure shoots up. We thump our chests and scream “racism!” We blame colonial hangovers, Western arrogance, global prejudice—anything and everything except our own…
On you MARK...get set go
The Great Indian Elimination Circus: Breeding Burnouts for a Living Let’s be honest: if an Indian parent could genetically engineer a child in the womb to crack the IIT-JEE or the UPSC, they’d do it without a second thought, probably installing a couple of extra memory chips where the artistic neurons used to be. We are a nation utterly paralyzed by the fear of the “Unsafe Bet.” The brilliant…
The Guru Bazaar
Aryamba’s Thursdays at Rayara Mattah and Ram Bhavan. Of Enlightenment, Prasadam and Other Retail Experiences. “Find a guru,” proposed the Akashic reader, looking terribly solemn. “Find a guru,” agreed Ganapathi Anna. Anna was the local oracle and intuitive healer, a man who dispensed cosmic wisdom with the same casual authority that others dispensed directions to the bus stand. He even…
Ayyappa Didn't Need a Flag.
This post is written for Blogchatter Bloghop. Aryamba was at elevenses: ginger tea, khakra, and the firm conviction that civilisation had peaked sometime before mobile phones. Across the road an auto-rickshaw coughed to a halt. Out stepped Algasekharan, dark as roasted coffee and draped in black. He was returning from Sabarimala. For as long as Aryamba could remember, he had gone there every…