Trip to my origins
Riding the Rails to Memory Lane
A trip back to the homeland isn’t just a journey—it’s a homecoming of the heart. Each visit unspools the reels of childhood, tugging me gently back to those long, rhythmic train rides from Baroda, and later Delhi, to Kolkata.
The landscapes would shift like magic—dry, dusty browns (central India) giving way to lush greens (east India) bursting with palms, banana groves, and coconut trees. It was as if the very air changed, warmer and more fragrant with the promise of familiarity.
Those hours on the train were a slow, soothing loop of sleep, eat, read, repeat. My travel companions were always a couple of crumpled comic books, not Marvel or DC, but the mighty gods and fierce heroes of Indian epics.
Lunch and dinner on board meant one thing I still dream of—Indian Railways’ egg curry. It arrived in little steel trays, humble and heavenly. My favourite kind of comfort food, served with the gentle rattle of wheels beneath.
And then there was my father—a station hawker’s best customer. He’d hop off at big junctions, those rare long halts, to return triumphantly with guavas speckled with salt, or hot snacks wrapped in newspaper, their aroma better than any restaurant.
It wasn’t just a trip. It was a time capsule. A journey to where the heart still lives—in comic pages, curry trays, and the call of chaiwalas on a crowded platform.
From Tracks to Tarmacs: The Journey Home Has Changed
These days, the road from Britain to Kolkata isn’t lined with banana trees or punctuated by station-side guavas. It begins at a crowded airport terminal, with a 15-hour flight itinerary that feels more like endurance than adventure. There’s no rhythm of train wheels, just turbulence and tight seats in what’s cynically called “economy.”
Airplane food? Let’s not pretend. The warmth and flavour of egg curry in a steel tray has given way to shrink-wrapped plastic and mystery meat in foil. No comic books either—just a flickering seat screen, and the occasional jolt of turbulence to remind you you’re far from grounded.
And yet, I go. I endure. Because at the end of this bleary-eyed, sleep-deprived haul, lies the place that matters. My mother’s flat.
She lives now in a world of her own—one shaped by the fog of Alzheimer’s. Her memories, once vibrant, now drift like faint echoes. But when I arrived—with her granddaughter beside me—I’d like to believe there was a flicker. A spark of recognition in her eyes. A glimmer that maybe, just maybe, the heart remembers what the mind forgets.
It was a reunion long overdue. And more than that—necessary. I still struggle to find the right word for what it was. Not closure. Not joy. Not quite sorrow either.
Perhaps, simply: homecoming.
In the studio
Celebrating Stories on Tea Towels – From Oxford Icons to Country Charm
Tea towels don’t just dry dishes – they tell stories. The latest designs bring together heritage, humour and a splash of countryside colour, perfect for brightening kitchens or gifting with personality.
The Oxford collection celebrates two of the city’s best-loved landmarks. The Bodleian Library is captured in glowing sunset hues alongside its quirky fact: over 13 million books live here – and not a single one can be borrowed! Just across the page, the Bridge of Sighs arches gracefully with its playful twist: no sighs, only shortcuts for students since 1914. These towels make learning fun and frame Oxford’s character with wit and colour.
For those who love the outdoors, the Game Birds tea towel bursts with pheasants, grouse, partridges, plovers and quail, framed by ivy leaves and pinecones – a rustic design that feels like a countryside ramble captured in cloth.
Finally, the Chickens on Blue Gingham design mixes farmhouse tradition with floral whimsy. Speckled hens and deep-toned roosters perch among blossoms and feathers, turning a homely check into something delightfully fresh.
From scholarly Oxford to pastoral fields, each tea towel carries a piece of story, art and charm into everyday life.



Theatre and cinema
Vanity Fair by Moving Parts Theatre company ****
Lately, my young one has taken a keen interest in Jane Austen, so we’ve ventured into the world of early 19th-century literature—this time, with Vanity Fair as our compass. While not penned by Austen, Thackeray’s satirical masterpiece felt like a perfect parallel: rich in social commentary, moral ambiguity, and unforgettable characters.
The Moving Parts Theatre Company brought Vanity Fair to life against the stunning backdrop of Worcester College gardens. Sunshine, birdsong, and perfectly packed picnics set the tone for a lively afternoon. In just two hours—no small feat—they captured the essence of Thackeray’s sprawling novel.
Katrina Sharp as Becky was a delightful force: calculating, charming, and endlessly watchable. Anna Blackburn’s Amelia brought a quiet grace that grounded the emotional arc. The ensemble cast did well to round out the complex web of characters, each stepping in with crisp timing and energy.
Jurassic Park Rebirth **** @Vue
Jurassic World: Rebirth revitalises the franchise with thrilling action, nostalgic charm, and a standout performance from Scarlett Johansson. Set on a remote island, the film balances suspense, humour, and spectacle. A bold reboot that honours the original while delivering fresh energy—perfect summer blockbuster fun for fans old and new.
Nosferatu on Blu-ray ****
Nosferatu (2024) is a chilling, atmospheric triumph that reimagines the silent classic with eerie elegance. Director Robert Eggers crafts a gothic nightmare drenched in shadows, fog, and dread. Bill Skarsgård’s portrayal of the vampire is both grotesque and mesmerizing, bringing a monstrous grace to the screen. The pacing is slow-burn and deliberate—perhaps too much so at times—but it suits the film’s hypnotic tone. The cinematography is stunning, with painterly compositions that linger in the mind long after. While not a traditional horror full of jump scares, Nosferatu excels in mood, unease, and tragic beauty. It’s not for everyone, but for fans of classic horror and arthouse cinema, it’s a dark gem worth sinking your teeth into.
Fantastic 4 – First steps **** @INOX
Marvel’s Fantastic Four: First Steps offers a grounded, character-driven reboot that balances emotion, humour, and action. The cast shares believable chemistry, especially as they navigate the personal cost of their transformations. While the villain lacks depth, the focus remains rightly on team dynamics and origin-building. Visually polished and well-paced, the film doesn’t overwhelm with spectacle but sets a strong emotional foundation. It’s not flawless, but it’s refreshing in its restraint and heart.
Bibliophile
Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie (Sci-fi) ****
Ann Leckie’s Ancillary Justice is an ambitious and original debut that redefines space opera. The story follows Breq, the sole surviving “ancillary” of a once-great AI warship, as she seeks justice—or perhaps revenge—against the ruler of a powerful galactic empire. The novel’s complex structure, shifting timelines, and use of gender-neutral pronouns create a narrative that is both intellectually demanding and deeply rewarding.
Leckie blends political intrigue, philosophical questions, and emotional isolation into a story that’s both epic and personal. While the pacing can feel slow early on, the world-building is rich and the ideas compelling. Ancillary Justice is bold, thoughtful sci-fi that explores identity, power, and what it means to be human—even when you’re not.
The Andromeda Strain by Michael Crichton ***** (Classic/Sci-fi)
Michael Crichton’s The Andromeda Strain is a razor-sharp science fiction thriller that combines gripping suspense with startling realism. After a satellite crash unleashes a lethal extraterrestrial microorganism, a team of scientists races to contain the threat inside a top-secret lab. Crichton’s medical background lends the novel impressive scientific accuracy—his portrayal of microbiology and crisis protocols is both believable and chilling. The writing is concise, clinical, and immersive, enhanced by fictional documents and data. A landmark of science fiction, The Andromeda Strain is a haunting, intelligent warning about humanity’s vulnerability in the face of the unknown. A brilliant and enduring classic.
The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley **** (Sci-fi/Romance)
Kaliane Bradley’s The Ministry of Time is one of those rare debuts that feels both wildly inventive and oddly familiar—like slipping into a world you didn’t know you’d been waiting for. Imagine a Victorian explorer suddenly plonked into the 21st century, confronted not only with smartphones and self-checkouts, but also with love, bureaucracy, and the oddities of modern life. That’s Commander Graham Gore, guided (and occasionally undone) by his contemporary handler.
Bradley stitches together satire, romance, and historical intrigue with enviable flair. The dialogue sparkles, the cultural clashes amuse, and beneath the wit lies a thoughtful meditation on belonging and desire. True, the tone sometimes wobbles under the weight of its own ambition, but that hardly dims the thrill. Quirky, clever, and compelling—this is a four-star debut that leaves you wanting more.
And finally ..
Common Sense in an Age of Noise
We need to think more carefully about our choices—especially those that shape the fate of millions. Too often, we vote for someone simply because they echo what we want to hear. Yet history, stretching across centuries, shows us a painful truth: we keep repeating the same mistakes.
Somewhere along the way, we’ve misplaced our critical thinking. Our smartphones have become sharper than our own minds. Education, once about inquiry and wisdom, is too often replaced by image-making and perception-building. What truly matters—skills, discernment, wisdom—has been pushed aside.
How do we fix this? We begin small. Read a book to your child instead of letting Alexa’s voice take over. Share a meal around a dinner table and talk. Give everyone in the house real responsibilities. Learn your history. Question the source of every “breaking news” headline.
Above all, reclaim the most undervalued tool we already possess: common sense.

Leave a reply to barbarianfreebd230dc5f3 Cancel reply