You know, how we, thinking beings, tend to exist too much inside our heads? Well, on our recent New Mexico trip, we drove to Chaco Canyon from Santa Fe, and then tried to find the Bisti Badlands. We got lost. For almost an hour, we went round and round in the desert, mostly through dirt
From my prior writings, you know that I have a deep interest in design, architecture and preservation. Well, we were recently in Santa Fe, New Mexico. I was struck by how attentively the city has been preserved, its Spanish Colonial and American Indian heritage intact, the Pueblo revival architecture highlighted, and the overall ambiance, consequently,
In the front portico, several cousins assembled around Wall Street banker Ronti’s Blackberry and marveled. As I joined them, eyes darted to me. “You probably have one of these?” “Sure, I have a Treo,” I replied, my eyes glazing over the Blackberry, to focus on the marble staircase on which, at four, I fell and
Our family, miraculously, still holds the old property pretty much intact. The partition suit continues, providing the building itself a temporary protection. Meanwhile the real estate boom in India marches on around it, with the house sitting there, frightened, like an old bride of Bengal at the mercy of the patriarchs. On my recent trip,
The face of Calcutta is degenerating fast. Droves of glittering shopping malls welcome young Calcuttans – since among other things India is also importing Retail Therapy. A new credit card industry booms. The expanding middle class rejoices in the sudden Western availability of product after product after product. Satya Paul saris and Giorgio Armani jackets
Until a few decades ago, most Bengali homes housed joint families. Our homestead on Elgin Road comfortably housed some 15 family members and another 15 servants. Sunday dinners crammed twenty around a table littered with round-puffy-golden luchis, rich-red goat curry, and an opulent choice of Sandesh and Rasogolla desserts. The children eating as fast as
Such is the destiny of developing nations. The same routine runs from Kashmir to Kanyakumari. It runs in Mexico, in China. It runs in Brazil, and in Romania. Darjeeling, the erstwhile Queen of the Himalayas, once enchanted with pine-lined walks strung from house to house. Today, it flashes neon signs to welcome tourists. In the
The past always recedes. Sensible people do not let that be bothersome. The old steps aside for the new and so it should. Yet, looking out the car window driving through India these days, I am stricken by the pace and brutality of this transition. Chowringhee, Calcutta’s once impressive Paris-esque boulevard, is now layered in