Dregs of Yore

Over the past year or so, I’ve been facing a considerable degree of health-related anxiety. This is new for me, as I've always dismissed minor aches, occasional stomach upsets, or period cramps. Recently, however, I've been struggling with recurring feelings that a different part of my body is unwell every few weeks, even though I know it's in my head since I have little to no actual symptoms. I am very diligent about my health, getting comprehensive checkups every six months, and I have a large medical insurance policy that my friends consider excessive. I maintain a healthy lifestyle by going to bed early, working out daily, avoiding alcohol and most processed foods, and eating at home most of the time. Over the past decade, I have lost several family members and one dear friend, and I suspect these experiences have heightened the awareness of my own mortality. I can't completely make up my mind about the pervasiveness of health-related technology at our disposal. On ...

I was in my kitchen the other day, trying to whip up a wonderful roast chicken. No cookbook or food blog in sight, just me in my kingdom, experimenting with flavours. I rarely eat red meat: maybe a lamb or goat curry a few times a year, and I steer clear of beef (like a good little Hindu). I do enjoy plenty of fish and seafood. But chicken, above all, is my favourite. It goes in everything: chunks in noodles, grilled breast in sandwiches, breakfast sausages with toast, a hearty chicken stew with whole spices, a flavourful curry with ground spices, chicken in biryani —the versatility is endless. I must have made over a hundred chicken recipes, so I was right in my element. On this afternoon, I used hung curd, some lemon juice, dried fenugreek leaves, salt, and freshly ground pepper to create a marinade for my chicken, letting it sit for about an hour.  I must exercise restraint and refrain from rambling on about the intricacies of the cooking process, acknowledging that not everyone...

Readers acquainted with my writings will recognize my fascination towards exploring figures and events from Hindu religion and mythology, often drawing parallels with counterparts from different cultures or religions. In this piece, I aim to maintain the same approach, albeit with a departure from scripture into the pages of history. The Event: The Burning of the Nalanda University Founded in the 5th century CE, in what is now the state of Bihar in India, Nalanda University was the first residential university in the world. Interestingly, this Buddhist monastic university was founded during the Gupta dynasty's reign, the kings of which were devout Hindus. Its strategic location along the ancient Silk Road facilitated the exchange of ideas, attracting scholars and students from distant lands. Buddhist, Hindu, Jain, and secular scholars coexisted harmoniously, contributing to Nalanda's reputation as a melting pot of intellectual thought. One of Nalanda's defining features was...

Last weekend, I was out with some friends when I noticed something interesting that I’ll now write about. As we were about to enter the restaurant where the six of us had planned to have lunch on Sunday, I saw a sign at the entrance that said, “No alcohol will be served to customers below 25 years.” To give a bit of context, I was in New Delhi, where the legal drinking age is 25. This is the case in many Indian states, while in others, the legal age is either 21 or 18. Typically, purchasing alcohol for consumption at home, even if you're under 25, is relatively easy since establishments rarely ask for IDs, and there's always the option to rely on an older acquaintance to be cautious. However, finding a restaurant or bar willing to serve alcohol to individuals under 25 is challenging, making drinking in public settings less convenient.  My friends and I are in our twenties or thirties, but we hadn't planned on drinking that day. After we sat down at our table, I asked if an...

Do others ever feel as if a major transformation is on the horizon, even though it hasn't fully revealed itself yet? A transformation in perspective or in character? I can't quite capture it in words, but a fleeting yet recurrent vision intrudes upon the mind—brief, vivid glimpses—of events in my life that are to come, and an urgent sense that there's a gap between who I am now and who I need to become to navigate them with a semblance of success. Surely, I can't be the only one who has experienced this sensation, for I've felt it more than once myself. “Nothing her mother had taught her was of any value whatsoever now and Scarlett's heart was sore and puzzled. It did not occur to her that Ellen could not have foreseen the collapse of the civilization in which she raised her daughters, could not have anticipated the disappearings of the places in society for which she trained them so well. It did not occur to her that Ellen had looked down a vista of placid futu...