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 ...

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