steel city scribblings

I stop outside a jeweller’s to change lenses. Out pops a dapper dude well into his fifties. He sports stylishly coiffeured grey locks, pressed white shirt open at the neck. His silk tie – its greys on white diagonals drawing...
Read more »

Tara: If you are not properly attired, you will not exhilarate my husband. Maya: Exhilaration is my department. Jaipur’s Indian Coffee House lies two hundred metres west of Ajmeri Gate on M.I. Road. As with Kashmir but with less disastrous...
Read more »

“Slowly, sir! Walk slowly!” He’s in his prime, well built with upright bearing: neatly trimmed beard still black; polished tan shoes and pressed shirt arcing over a respectable paunch to suggest a man of substance. A man to heed on such matters. He’s right of...
Read more »