• Travel

    Chasing Clouds

    Billows upon billows upon billows of clouds hung in the morning sky yesterday. We were in a Gainsborough painting. Driving through the Cotswolds and staring at the sky. Of course, I reminded Adi to keep his eyes on the road too or we would be looking down upon the countryside from the clouds. A bit too early for that. To keep his eyes in place was the yellow vista that comes up in April with timeliness. The rapeseed fields that spring up along the roads leading into the Cotswolds. They shall turn uniformly yellow in some time so much so that you cannot spy a speck of green amongst the sheets of…

  • Travel

    Crackpot Hall on the Dales

    It got me with its name. How can you possibly ignore a ‘Crackpot Hall’ when it looms up on the map, right? In the Yorkshire Dales, last weekend, we walked 6 miles from the village of Muker to get to it. Even if it be just an abandoned farmhouse, more than half of its roof having given way to the elements, the ruins added drama, perched above the deep winding valleys of Swaledale. The word ‘hall’ is a misnomer in Crackpot’s case. It necessarily conjures up visions of grandeur, mansions, opulence, right? Only this was an isolated building. Some of its small and dark rooms were still intact under the portion of roof that remained. A big…

  • Travel

    Sheep-y Sundays

    Albert Einstein was not off the mark when he said that in order to be an immaculate member of a flock of sheep one must above all be a sheep oneself. I had a sheep-like personality in the growing years of my life – till I reached Delhi and the city decided to do me a favour and rip it off. Naturally you would forgive me for thinking that I stood a chance of bonding with those precious bundles of wool. Now, I have tried to be friends with all shapes and sizes of them. I have talked to them, I have cajoled them to come closer and then I have chased them to be friends…