A letter found its way to me today It travelled many miles carrying tea for two and notes of ache and love The writer’s touch met the reader’s touch over paper Light. Love. Life.
“It smells like agarbatti and wood”, she said. One of the earliest mythology books I bought was Myth = Mithya by Devdutt Pattnaik. Since then, I’ve wandered into Indian philosophy and her old sciences by various authors, Indian and foreign. Those old sciences and arts still exist although what we get is the pop packaged… Read More
A Tuesday morning spent in the company of an old shoe box with even older letters and cards. This was written on a folded piece of paper by a friend who is a star herself. She was one of my early correspondents as I discovered how fragile and difficult adulting can be. Back then, the… Read More