I bet each one of you has an umbrella story (or several) to tell. My first memory of an umbrella is probably from the time I was five–or younger–huddling under a huge black umbrella with a wooden handle; at least it seemed huge at the time to my 2.2 feet self. Summer days in the balcony under the fabric, pretending…
It happened in 1982. Most of you reading this were probably not even born (couldn’t resist that—what with most people addressing me as anything but Vidya these days *evil grin*) I was in the first year of college, studying for a B.Sc. and had moved mid-year from Secunderabad to Madras. Yes, always Madras to me—I find it so hard to…
I would be a liar if I said I didn’t miss the excitement of the first day of school. I am not referring to the very first time my two-and-a-half-year-old stepped into playschool, and jauntily walked off, quite happy to see all the toddlers milling around, leaving a very teary-eyed me at the gate. I remember looking back every two…
There’s something so satisfyingly special about watching the rain from indoors. Warm, cozy, safe, and with a big mug of steaming filter coffee, while the water drizzles or lashes haphazardly, humoring the wind, loitering around with it, playing with it as it drenches everything in its wake. The scent of the rain hitting the earth, oh! One can practically hear…