TORCH: My American Playground I was born in England, but my earliest memory is of America. My mother had taken me to a playground at the crest of a low grassy hill. The sun was shining and I was hanging from a purple, spiral-shaped climbing frame, happy, carefree and safe.
As France flirts with political Armageddon, my mind returns to the gentleman with whom I shared a flight in 1996. I was returning from India on an Air France flight bound for Paris. He was sitting to my right, an unshaven, tousle-haired man in his thirties who smoked incessantly and refused all food, drinking only coffee.
1. Your new friends Bob and Rita come to lunch and you serve them idlis, like your grandmother used to make. 2. They love your south Indian cooking and ask for the recipe. 3. You never hear from Rita and Bob again. 4.
An Extract from Starstruck By Rajeev Balasubramanyam Update Status What’s on Your Mind? Mala Iyer First of all, it is sad and painful when anyone dies of cancer in their early fifties, but I’m troubled by the reaction to Steve Jobs’s death.
By Rajeev Balasubramanyam Location: College Road, Whalley Range Our hero has fifteen tattoos: On his back: his sons’ names, a winged cross, and the words ‘Guardian Angel’. On his left arm: a picture of his wife, her name in Hindi, the words ‘Forever by Your Side’ and ‘Ut Amen Et Foveam’ − So That I Love and Cherish.
b y r a j e e v b a l a s u b r a m a n y a m S H O R T S T O R Y THE STORY l a n c a s h i r e, e n g l a n d IN THE worst village in the country, from which no good will ever come, certainly not now, a young woman was suffering from a terrible sadness.
“Avremo un bambino, Ajay.” Non dice altro. E così io la bacio, l’abbraccio e penso: ‘E adesso che cazzo faccio?’