Nolen Gur

Gokul Pithe

A mellow winter morning. I lie on Grandmas ancient four-poster, cocooned in the warmth of a ...

Playing with dough is my favourite pastime these days. I tear a frugal bit from the ball of dough ...

Winter is fading away. Silently. On hushed tiptoes. The enigma of the mist over the lake no longer ...

Another mist-mysterious winter morning. I walk into my kitchen, an infant sun playfully projecting a ...

What's winter without nolen gur ? Grandma would ruminate. I am in my kitchen, bathed in streaks of ...

It's Makar Sankranti and my kitchen is a cauldron of furious activity. The chirer doodhpuli and ...

Dada is super-excited. Almost gasping for breath, he tries to awaken me from sleep. Still in a ...

The doorbell rang. The jarring shrill piercing the lull of a parched summer afternoon. A kind of ...

Its less than a week to Sankranti and my kitchen is in a manic frenzy cooking a decadent spread of ...

Grandma sat on a cane mora, her back to the gorgeous winter sunshine, instructing Didi how to ...

It's long past sunset. The last vestiges of the evening sun have ebbed out. The crimson of the ...

A hullabaloo wakes me this chilly morning. Far from amused, I open half an eye to probe what's ...