AUGUST 2013

Atia Naqvi, the 96-year-old grand dame of Lucknow, and perhaps the last in the line of elegance and grace, died recently. When I heard that she is no more, my immediate fear was that a lot of love that is already in short supply may have also departed from earth with her.

I wanted to write about Atia as a lesson to myself on ‘becoming’ love. But I did not know how to do so in words. Would it make sense to you if I said that Atia was one person I knew who was a personification of love?

Even as this uncivilized creature of barbarism unleashed has yet again vitiated the atmosphere in India with his crude, crass and dehumanized language and conduct, and even as his shameless fascist

Five years ago, Dr Mehdi Kazmi left his successful neuro-psych practice in New York to return to his native Karachi and set up a health insurance company for low-income bread-earners. He wants Asia Care to become a successful, sustainable economic model, not a charity organization.

After expressing scorn and outrage over political issues on Twitter for about two years, I’ve decided to retire while still relatively unhurt and stick to writing about safer subjects – say, posting dead boring details about my meals.

For example, “Had fab, melty cheese-chorizo omelette for breakfast with crunchy French fries.”

I remember what food rations meant in the 1960s and ‘70s. Long queues would form in front of the ration or fair price shops as soon as word got around that the trucks carrying wheat or rice had arrived. Sometimes, the arrival of food grain turned out to be plain rumour — causing great anger and anxiety amongst those who went back with empty bags. India was still not self-sufficient in food grain and was forced to import it from the US and other countries. Much of the wheat that India got from the US’s PL-480 was resent as it was rumoured to be for cattle.