Ramanagara to most is where Sholay was filmed, er, immortalised. But that’s the part I like to give a miss. There’s more, and it’s awesome
Tidal waves of tourists washed over Old Goa that Saturday morning and soon I was walking in a trance, the rhubarb-rhubarb of their chatter forming a calming screen of white noise at the back of my head as I explored, wandered entranced and gleaned anecdotes.
I’m posting from the road these impressions of a winter weekend spent at Kabini. Winter light, as Bergman imagined it, has that quality of breathing beauty into the frame. Oftentimes, it is convenient to yield to colour, to be seduced…
A morning walk in Lodi Garden takes you into the shadow of the 15th century when Delhi was about to receive the Mughal dynasty that changed its destiny
It’s that time of the year when I ache to be anywhere but in an office, feeling the tug of the breeze on my face, the burst of impatient rain. To be drenched in the news of the sea that the monsoon brings ashore. So much for dreaming. I’m still here. Clacking away on a keyboard, conjuring up visions. So share my pain. With monsoon Instagrams.
What’s so funny, you ask? No idea. Ask this horse I met near Fahlensee, Appenzell, Switzerland. A fine way to celebrate the year of the horse!
I came upon this striking mare in Thanjavur on a hot August afternoon. As I prepared to photograph it, a bike shot into the frame, making for an extremely intriguing contrast in many ways — a horse of flesh making way for a horse of steel.
Does Bangalore take pride in its heritage buildings? I think not. I heard someone refer to the Infosys corporate office in Electronics City as a “heritage building”. Really? Something that dates back to the 1980s? By that logic, I’m a walking monument. A veritable mausoleum unto myself.
Walk down Hong Kong’s Hollywood Road and you can see century-old ivory traders display their ware in dressed-up shop windows. Even as international pressure to destroy stockpiles mounts, the sale of illegal ivory in Hong Kong continues. Will it follow China’s example?
First a bump, then a mild churning of the stomach followed by a swimming sensation of buoyancy. The earth fell away and I was sucked into the sky. “No smoking. Absolutely no smoking!” warned the guide, pointing at the propane jets. “If you light up, we will all die.” He squeezed a lever above his head and the nozzles spat yellow-white tongues of flame into the innards of the balloon. Air, heated on the go. Our sustenance and stay on this ride. As we floated up, up, up into the air, without wings, in a hot air balloon, Appenzell spread out beneath us like a patchwork quilt.