You know what? This one is essential reading. I kid you not.It was the summer of 2003, and a younger, sillier, blue-haired version of me was studying for my Masters at Warwick U. One afternoon I noticed that a bestselling novelist was giving a talk on creating fantasy universes and while I hadn't read him at all at the time, I had enough friends ( Read more... )

His name is William Connors Jebasingh.


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Doesn't sound as grand as twenty, admittedly. Still, I've been in Bombay since today 2004, and it's just another day. Nothing spectacular lined up, am at office wishing I was outside -- Bowie's looping persisently inside my head as I look at grey, overcast lethargicromantic weather outside the windowpanes. Longwalk, bookshop weather -- and me ( Read more... )

Pop-quiz, hotshots.

If you were dead-sure of wanting only one thing in your life, and going for it meant you could, nay, would probably wreck literally everything else important to you, would you go for it?

I mean it when I say everything is on the line. *sigh* In the end, it all comes down to how cinematic you believe life can be ( Read more... )

A few posts ago, I quit the job.
Advertising I was totally disenchanted with, plus I had serious self-respect issues, among other things.
Anyway.

So I felt free and untramelled and entirely inspired to write.

But...

I was in a distant city, on my own.
I wasn't entirely sure about where I would liveI didn't know exactly how I'd eat ( Read more... )

-

Just walked in from a meeting with the bosses.

Wherein
I
Quit.

Man, that feels so good.

Will now go watch Kill Bill Vol. 2.

Then, perhaps, get a drink.

'What to do with life' will have to wait till tomorrow.

--

-


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3rd January, 2004.

James Bond, tucked in the pages of a well-thumbed copy of Thunderball, sipped a drier than seemingly possible martini and smiled as he aged yet another year. It is admittedly easier to get old when you're fictional, he thought as he ran a hand through never to gray hair.Michael Schumacher, spending snowy winters with wife and ( Read more... )

The Year Three.Emulated Pushkin (and Vikram), while to Michael bowing ( Read more... )

I was there. I couldn't believe it. I pinched myself as the seats filled, slowly, almost languidly. We waited. Suddenly, without warning or cue, Wembley Stadium was plunged into darkness ( Read more... )