He was humbled by the wisdom of those visionaries – the town planners of the city he lived in. Every time he rode on Bangalore’s roads, he marveled at how they’d managed to forecast the city’s traffic snarls so precisely, and then ensured that the locations were named appropriately – Koramangala 1st Block, Jayanagar 4th […]
He was asked to write about the blogger’s block. How could he explain, that, on some days the words just flowed, and one could write without a pause. More importantly, how could he explain, that on some days the ideas and the stories just seemed to dry up, and there were only pauses. Like today. […]
The driver ahead, talking on the mobile, was disrupting traffic…irritating him. And then he saw the sticker. At the junction, he knocked on the window and said “Thanks for the warning sticker, ma’am, but your responsibility doesn’t end there. You should also realize that the baby on board is too immature to drive you around” […]
No one knew how the treasure myth originated, but it spread. And the eyes of men gleamed with greed. They created armies, with promises of the booty’s share. The digging started, and the city was pitted against formidable foes – BWSSB, BBMP. He hoped they’d find the treasure soon, so he could ride in peace. […]
The letter from his bank spoke about their pleasure at his carrying out a transaction with them after a long time. They looked forward to serving him well in the future too. He doubted that. After a year of stupid procedures that hampered any transaction he attempted, he’d closed the account a few days back. […]