It is not just our sins Pappanji has to grapple with – and eventually burn for, of course – but also how his looks are taken. If he was perceived to be too cheerful in 2017, the year when Cyclone Ockhi ravaged Kerala, this year it was alleged that he bore a close semblance to Prime Minister Modi. The organisers had a tough time mollifying belligerent bampots who decried it as a malicious attempt to malign in a region that was already seething with public resentment against the newly introduced
If languor is your hearth then Pondicherry is home. Clocks in this union territory are known to miss a few ticks now and then and make different times of the day – and night – linger. This temporal deceleration hems in the spatial and limits the experiential. Take the chief lure, The Promenade. This landmark drag fronting the sea is not more than a leisurely trot. In your quest for the best coffee you are sent in different directions but to the same spot. This is again next to The
We sat atop a red oxide stairway that led from the reading hall to the pool area with its mauve sun deck chairs. Rain fell at soft angles on the water surface creating little pimply ripples like thousands of greedy Garra rufa at a foot care spa. A darker hue spread over the chairs as it began to come down harder. Metallic blue shutter cloaked the horizon, crackling thunder tore through. An empty teapot in a tray with two cups had been pushed away from the flurry of amorous limbs.
