Category Archives: Self
I’ve spent the whole of today thinking about the first few months on the Internet. We had one of the first few internet accounts in India. An unassuming vsnl account perhaps. I had a powwow username. I can’t quite describe … Continue reading
Pots of rouge, little boxes of eyeshadows, gleaming rich colours in lipstick tubes, the creamy sets of foundation and the brushes, always the brushes! It’s a world with forbiddingly high walls if you don’t know what you’re doing. I had … Continue reading
Good girls make mistakes. Good girls become girls who can be easily doubted. And they get married to boys who think they are perfect. Good girls then become sad women. Brave Good girls then go onto enter the murky territory … Continue reading
How utterly lovely are these old Singer machines? Gold lettering on a heavy body. I have such fond memories of being asked ‘to help’ my mother by turning the hand wheel. After a while, my hand would tire, and I … Continue reading
At Madras Central (or Chennai Central as you young ones call it) in the 1980s, I looked forward to buying books at HigginBotham’s. It was the beginning of the journey back home. The last 36 odd hours on a train … Continue reading
If my life is going to be one *FacePalm* moment after another, the least I can do is buy decent hand-cream.