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044 - This Interlude
A mid season issue
Maneesh Madambath
Oct 24, 2021
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044 - This Interlude
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043 - Another Season
One year of Bombay Daak
Maneesh Madambath
Jun 17, 2021
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043 - Another Season
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042 - Old Friends
Frank O’Connor, considers the novel in terms of the passage of time. “To me a novel is something that’s built around the character of time, the nature…
Maneesh Madambath
Jun 13, 2021
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042 - Old Friends
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041 - Old Haunts
There’s an old essay on Bandra’s Zenzi written by Juhi Pande — Last Call. It is one of my favourite pieces written about Bombay, or at least a slice of…
Maneesh Madambath
Jun 8, 2021
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041 - Old Haunts
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040 - Old Bridges
In my village begins the river Nila. A little away from my hamlet (it literally is one), near the town centre lies an obscure bridge running across…
Maneesh Madambath
Jun 1, 2021
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040 - Old Bridges
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039 - Summer
The storm clouds from Tauktae have not receded here yet, and another one begins elsewhere. The cyclones and storms of Bay of Bengal are often more…
Maneesh Madambath
May 23, 2021
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039 - Summer
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038 - Spaces
It In the building across the street from my home is a toddler. I see him, as he comes in his mother’s arms to look at the world from his window, as I…
Maneesh Madambath
May 16, 2021
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038 - Spaces
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037 - Permanence
A small note on vaccination before we proceed. Do get one if you can. But, the vaccine right now is a lottery. Those who haven't had theirs might get…
Maneesh Madambath
May 9, 2021
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037 - Permanence
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036 - Breath
Left with nothing to do the city corporation has once again begun digging my road. The dust, the persistent noise of its rummage, both are a respite out…
Maneesh Madambath
May 4, 2021
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036 - Breath
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035
I have nothing to say to you today. I hope you and your loved ones are safe. We will get through this, even if it gets worse we will get through this…
Maneesh Madambath
Apr 25, 2021
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035
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034 - The Water Sprite
Ernst Josephson, Romanticism
Maneesh Madambath
Apr 19, 2021
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034 - The Water Sprite
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033 - Letter on a Summer Afternoon
It is strange to look at this skyline of mine. I write from a Bombay where under a pale sky the bright roofs of tenements have departed. The walls are…
Maneesh Madambath
Apr 11, 2021
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033 - Letter on a Summer Afternoon
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