The tunnel was leaking, then that’s how I think tunnels are supposed to be – with little ducts drilled through to act as pressure valves which in turn filters in the outside weather. They could be also the same ones through which the sun sends in vertical beams during daytime which falls on the tarmac like blinding little spotlights. The Chenani-Nashri tunnel bypasses the snow-bound upper reaches, cutting short the distance between Jammu and Srinagar. But going by what lay in store soon after the tunnel I knew those winding
There is nothing like piping hot jalebis on winter dusks. Some of my fondest memories of Delhi itself revolve around the anticipation as vendors take their sweet time churning these syrupy love knots over and over in large cauldrons of fiery oil with cautious ennui. My habitual reticence gives way to an ebullient prattle, suddenly agog at the goings on around me but my eyes glued to the oil frothing at the sensuous curves like sizzling lace. At the Singhu border I watched as little Arsh distributed steaming jalebis in
