At two-thirty after midnight, the rain was intense. I love the rain. It was less harsh when the rain dropped on the roof of the house.
During past winters, upon waking to the rain's voice, the first thing I would do was to reach the window and immerse my hand in the rainwater.
When my students expressed fear of its sound, often accompanied by thunder, I would reassure them, describing it as an affectionate presence. "Extend your hands and experience it for yourself," I would tell them.
Today's rain was unfamiliar; its sound harsh and distant from home and the classroom.
Much like the hesitancy in children, I was scared to open the window and extend my hand outside.
I cannot get any sleep to ease my anxious mind.
Denne historien er fra January 11, 2024-utgaven av Outlook.
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Denne historien er fra January 11, 2024-utgaven av Outlook.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Trump, Up And Charging
'Many countries are nervous about Donald Trump returning to power, but India is not one of them'
Post and Past the Oil in Azerbaijan
As the UN climate conference takes place in Baku, Azerbaijan traces the history of the hydrocarbon industry through the lens of postage stamps
Bhutto's Nehru Story
Nehru's principle of \"compromise and argument\" remains the only workable formula for South Asian leaders
Breathless on Bachchan
Cédric Dupire's documentary The Real Superstar is an irreverent, experimental archive of Amitabh Bachchan's life and his stardom
The Anaphora to Zeugma of the Queen's English
Shashi Tharoor's book is a logophile's candy shop, full of fun, surprises and insights
The Wind Knocked
THE wind knocked on the door. Hesitantly. Wanting to be let in. It had heard the murmuring of the flames. And knew that there was a fire. The wind sought shelter.
The Way Home
“We comfort ourselves by reliving memories of protection. Something closed must retain our memories, while leaving them their original value as images. Memories of the outside world will never have the same tonality as those of home and, by recalling these memories, we add to our store of dreams; we are never real historians, but always near poets, and our emotion is perhaps nothing but an expression of a poetry that was lost.”—Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space
The War Artist
Cartoonist and journalist Joe Sacco is in search of the truths distorted by conventional narratives
Mining Adivasi Votes
If the BJP manages to win Jharkhand, it will be the third mineral-rich state after Odisha and Chhattisgarh that will fall into the party's kitty
Unequal Republic
Political parties make promises of equal represention to women, but patriarchy continues to dominate electoral democracy
