Every Bombayite of our generation had heard of Protima Gupta. She was the ultimate enfant terrible. People spoke in hushed whispers about her streaking through Samovar restaurant. For those who came in late streaking was big in the ’70s in the west. It meant...
Reminiscence of how REQUIEM came to be I dreamt that Ma and I were stranded in a rocky barren landscape in the dead of night. It was pitch dark with no humans or illumination in sight. We were completely isolated from the world. Ma was whimpering in pain and crying...
I wasn’t the one who proposed a road in Baba’s name. It was my eldest sister. But she handed me the responsibility to see the project through sometime in the beginning of 2016. Without any warning she thrust a letter in Marathi into my hand and said...
