Deep Ties

"If you look like your passport photo, you probably need the trip!" This quote revived memories of posing before a camera, going through a gamut of ‘un-photogenic’ expressions! The seedy photographer in a cramped room adjusted the angles of my chin(s), patted a stray lock of hair down and barked, "Blue or white?" My confused look went down for posterity's sake. Till today I know not whether my passport photograph boasts of a blue background or white! I would rather not glance at the abomination! My driving license picture was no better. "Sit down!" As I made a move, the flash caught me in suspended animation, like a deer in headlights, or more factually, a startled fish trying to breathe! The most constipated photos were taken before tacky backdrops - a garish forest scene or an unreal Taj Mahal. The funniest were during marriage feasts, when photographers captured the exact moment when a person had his mouth wide open to gobble down that enormous,...

I have no idea why I always loved the Indian Army! Was it because of the life I lived as an Army brat, or the tales my mother regaled me with after she settled down in Kerala? My fascination continued even after I became a 'Lady Wife', which convinced me that there could be no better life than that within the giant arms of this hallowed institution, a life that taught me much, not the least being the knack to get along with all the different species that make up the human race! Mom's tales remained with me over the years, and what better opportunity to put them down on paper than this - a reunion of the very people who welcomed her with open arms as a bashful [???] Army bride? Mom [Nalini] was the first young lady to come into the tight knit 17 Engineer group, Dad [Chandran] being the first to have succumbed to the malady of matrimony. And they had ended up with no official accommodation as he was underage. Mo...

As the jeep travelled up the mountains from Tezpur to Tenga, in Arunachal Pradesh, the river sparkled alongside as the sun rays glanced off, creating little silver droplets that flashed like dragon flies in the breeze. On one side, the mountain wall rose, grey and forbidding, while the valley dropped away in all its glory, on the opposite side. Tiny wild flowers grew in nooks and crannies, creating a colourful tapestry in hues of sunny yellows, blood-hued crimsons and blushing violets, reminiscent of poet William Blake’s evocative images. By evening the mist moved in, casting a pall, imperceptibly growing in intensity, till the road seemed to disappear! The clouds had descended to almost ground level, and the driver could hardly see where he was going. My husband got down, and walked alongside in the dark, guiding the jeep by following the luminescent road markers that had been put in by some canny soul in the past! After a night's stay in...

Ruskin Bond came into Chennai with a bang, enthralling one and all with his trademark sense of humour and his cherubic smile. He was here in connection with the Landmark Ruskin Bond Tour, to launch his latest book. In 1992 he won the Sahitya Akademi Award for ‘Our Trees Still Grow in Dehra’, followed by the Padma Shri for his contribution to Children’s Literature in 1999. An interview with him seemed to be a dream come true, and he did not disappoint! My Father and I: “My father was the one who gave me that little nudge towards writing. I wrote in little notebooks, as he regaled me with stories to stimulate my imagination. I recall reading Kipling’s ‘Phantom Rickshaw’ and my father taking me along the market in an actual rickshaw. He ran a little Girls’ school for the Royal family in Jamnagar. At the age of four, I sat with the princesses and learnt to read and write. When I joined school, I found myself far ahead of my peers who were still learning their alphabets. Ins...

Ruskin Bond breezed into Chennai, launched ‘Hip-Hop Nature Boy and Other Poems’, and waltzed into the hearts of his fans. The Ruskin Bond Landmark Tour saw a horde of admirers, jostling to have a chat with the amiable, pink-cheeked author. “I do feel ancient!” he remarked, when a girl asked him about generations of readers coming together. He soon had the audience lapping up every word. He wrote his first story in Class 6 in an exercise book, and featured his teachers in it. His master found it, read the piece and announced, “Bond, you’re wasting your time!” He tore the story up, consigning it to the dustbin! “So friends, if you write, leave your teachers out!” was Bond’s advice.  ‘Room on the Roof’ was first published in London, and also serialized in the Illustrated Weekly. “I was thrilled to see my name in print!” Apparently, he had picked up the weekly, in which the first installment had come, with illustrations by Mario. "I looked around for a friend to share m...