It’s an old house in the outskirts of Bangalore. I marvel at the fact they have not pulled it down. I open the gate, and slowly walk to the back and stare at the wall, knowing the kitchen is on the inside and then I hear her voice. It rises,…
Singing In the Kitchen..!
Your Blade of Grass..!
The skies were dark and a heavy cloud hung over us as we drove on roads that echoed the darkness above. We were two writers in the car, my friend, whose first book published by Penguin, had been a runaway success, now stuck with no offers for his second, and…