The last day of the old year

The fire is crackling in the open kitchen stove. It is warm and cosy. The air is heavy with incense and the sweet smell of ci, local fermented millet beer. I cradle a warm cup of milk tea in my hands and wait for what is going to happen next. Villagers are huddled together in…

MONSOON RAMBLES

Looking up from the computer screen, I see the heavy rains pour down onto the crisp brown grass in the garden. The water collects in shallow puddles, as the dry earth is incapable of taking in the outburst of the summer storm all at once. I hear the shutters rattle in the wind and open…

HOMETOWN GANGTOK

There are two distinct phases of growing up in a small town, like Gangtok. First, when you want to move away. Second, when you want to make the journey back home.   Departure In school, I studied ‘Ulysses’. It was a poem about an old King, who had a gypsy soul. He’d dream of faraway…

INSIDE TALKS

Some twelve summers ago, I was introduced to Sikkim’s Do Re Me. While in conversation with a few Delhi University students – younger than me – I was introduced to the notes and nuances of a good Sikkim-style conversation. La, Lei, Las – generously in use that day, slowly started to make way for other…