The Day I wept at a Confessional


The year was 1999. I was 16 years old and in the 11th grade. And for the majority of Indian kids who had stumbled into the Science stream like me, this also meant the year that our parents would impose the dreaded entrance coaching classes upon us. One name reigned supreme in Kerala’s entrance coaching world – P.C.Thomas. You had either heard…

My Mute Commute In Singapore


After years of jumping queues and waving down dangerously careening rickshaws (which tend to stop 5 millimetres away from my Bata-clad feet) and hopping off slow-moving trains in India, one develops a sort of thirst for a daily quota of excitement. And if one does not avail of this quota daily, then things can get stifling.…

Confessions of a Fearless Palate


When I think about packaged food in India, my mind automatically conjures up images of cold tetraPaks of mango Frooti (fresh and juicy), packets of crunchy Kurkure (can never have enough of Kurkure, can you?) and rows of instant flour mixes pledging loyalty to India’s long standing tradition of hearty carb-filled breakfasts. The Singaporean supermarkets however…