Blog Posts


Avocado-green melamine plate and spoon are left in the sink for Jaya to wash. It’s 9 am, half an hour as office started, and she’s not around yet. Dressed up, I sink into sofa, sipping green tea from ‘I love you Paris’ mug. Ten minutes later our melodious bell rings. I let Jaya in, going through my Facebook timeline. From our Marathi-Hinglish chit-chat I get the latest news about her husband, children and neighbours on the third floor. Once bustling daily

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Cashless Birthday

I’m adding chopped mushrooms, sliced onions and grated carrots into wok, carefully mixing them with golden brown slices of garlic floating in hot oil. Then transferring ready tadka into boiling vegetable broth with potatoes, cauliflower, bay leaf and pepper corns. I am moving to Farhan Akhtar’s “Manzar Naya” on the radio, slowly sipping Cabernet Sauvignon from red wine glass by my side. It’s my birthday and i am making soup in Indian kitchen. Mr. Sharma woke me up, asking Siri

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We  agreed to talk once a week chatting before her birthday in September. It took two months to make it for next fifteen minutes conversation. One of those that earlier we would have sipping Gluehwein and hiding from Kyiv October chill under woollen blanket with her cat in between. Or in bustling Bun Cafe next to Golden Gate, where as students we used to study finance over the cup of yummiest hottest cocoa and plate of buns with potatoes, onions,

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My Bollywood times

Mr. Sharma is rewatching Sultan on TV, while I’m writing in our bedroom. To say he loves movies, is not to say anything. If by any chance it’s a holiday and we’re home, Sudhir would easily watch 4-5 movies that day – Bollywood masala followed by ski-fi action, topped with a thriller by the end. I would join him for romantic comedy, while cooking breakfast and lunch in between, and hide away with a book if there’s violence on screen.

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Sounds in India

Sounds in India used to make me crazy. The privacy i felt and cherished behind the thick walls of tiny Kyiv apartment was gone once i moved into spacious 2BHK in outskirts of Pune. Suddenly i heard neighbours at different times of their daily routine, - bathing in the morning, making sabzi in the pressure cooker, playing with the dog and by the end of it - snoring.

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Monsoon is almost over

In Kyiv i would celebrate summer fall – indulging in freshly harvested fruits, breathing in morning coolness, sipping the hottest coffee from paper cup picked up on the way to subway. In India i celebrate last days of the monsoon. The rhythm of the rain is nocturnal, drumming heavily on the office roof top, tapering to drizzle in between. Pausing and then clearing. Grand beats of Ganapathi Visarjan processions are heard from afar. I enjoy this feeling of the monsoon almost

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Police station

We squeezed into a buzzing corner of local police station at the dusk. This faintly lit tiny room with beige painted walls and disproportionately small windows accommodated one police officer and a young assistant. His appearance kept profession in disguise – at a glance he was simply middle-aged man wearing white cotton shirt. His short thick hair, accurate moustache line and sharp nose resembled Manoj Bajpayee in Gangs of Wasseypur, yet lively dark-brown eyes were showing kindness. A bunch of

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My mother-in-law

Today is her birthday. Actually no-one in the family exactly knows what the date is. My sister in-law suggests it was on 10th, while father-in-law insists it is on 2nd. When she was admitted for knee replacement surgery earlier this year, the patient tag stated 2.06.1940. I’m celebrating birthday of a woman who one year back became my mother-in-law, just a month before i’ve lost my mom in Kyiv. Nothing less than a gift and a blessing maintaining balance of

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Saturday morning. We’re a little relaxed yet awake by 8.30, as my husband has to go to office. I’ve started coffee machine and was about to open the door and pick up morning press, when our melodious doorbell rang. Here she was, – Jaya with the bunch of newspapers at the doorstep, beaming. This small brown-eyed konkani woman with glowing face would be in mid-30’s. Rayon orange saree and gold earrings gleaming against plump dusky cheeks highlight her frisky girlishness.

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Groundhog day with a little magic

There’s something about me i’m totally embarrassed to share. Well.. Have you ever put three alarms and ignore all of them in a row? That’s what every single morning i go to office looks like. 6.15 am. My alarm rings gently. I hear it and in the back of my mind muse.. Okay, it’s just 6, so i can sleep till 7. “Can you switch it off..”, – murmurs my husband from the opposite side of the bed. Oh yes,

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