blogging
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“I haven’t seen you in my office for almost a month! I was starting to miss you Rishidhar.” Radha groaned. He had told Ameen miss several times his name was Radha and not Rishidhar. But she insisted on calling him by his first name. He had to let it go though. She was after all
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When Radha and his classmates returned to their classroom after a rousing match of football… Radha was rather good at this sport, thank you very much. “Dev D” thought it was the technique and muscles that made him so good at the sport. And yet, it was Radha who had scored the first goal of
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Kneeling next to the shattered remains of his dada’s favourite tea cup, Radha looked up at Sheetal tai full of disdain. He had told her repeatedly not to bother him with her inane problems. But when she had come to his room, all teary eyed and wringing her hands like she would twist them off
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It was recess. The corridors were filled with cacophony of students screaming from a sugar rush, teachers trying to maintain some discipline without being overbearing and intermittent slaps and ball dribbling. In the middle of all this noise sat two boys from the sixth grade. They were seeking Radha’s particular brand of expertise to look
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Recently, I took an interview with a writer and filmmaker who compared writing to devotion – saying that any type of art is possible only when you surrender yourself to the art and let it guide you through the process.
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Every time I hit publish on a blog post, I am visited by this bug of checking my stats every five minutes to know how many views, visitors, comments and likes I have got.
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Meet Rishidhar Arpita Dinanath Hose Agarwal – Radha for short. He is a thirteen year old boy with an active imagination – so active that he had to be kept back in the seventh grade because he couldn’t rein it in for the requisite twenty-one hours; the time taken by examinations. As a result he’s
tales of Suchita 