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Captive ideologues

In October 1984, I got my first academic job at the Centre for Studies in Social Sciences in Kolkata (then Calcutta). A week after I joined, a friend from Chennai (then Madras) sent me a petition on the plight of Tamils in Sri Lanka, which he hoped some of my colleagues would sign. The first person I asked was ...   | Read..
Letters to the Editor
Human wheels
Sir — Film directors have used the image of the hand-pulled rickshaw to represent Calcutta metaphor ...  | Read.. 
Rare delight
Sir — The Indian cricket team finally broke a 28-year-old jinx and won a Test match at Lord’s (“Inc ...  | Read.. 
Fatal error
Sir — The incident in which a woman was stripped and subsequently thrashed in the presence of the police has sent a wrong ...  | Read.. 
Target area
Sir — The media have reported that the Maoist leader, Sabyasachi Panda, does not want his . ...  | Read.. 


How ‘normal’ is ‘abnormal’? That may be one way of summarizing the myriad questions prompted by the CCTV record of a private ...   | Read..
Art without an excuse
The Banyan Art Show at Ganges Art Gallery (July 11 to 25) proved yet again that the presence of a few well-known artists cannot raise the standard and quality of an exh...  | Read.. 
Slices of Calcutta life
Our city forms the subject of two conceptually similar productions by young groups, both of which present several short vignettes of Calcutta life, linked by this thematic uni...  | Read.. 
Heightened senses
Mere concept notes do not make conceptual art. Good art, of any genre or age, usually surpasses words, either written or spoken. Installations are supposed to enfold viewers i...  | Read.. 
The gods and their worshippers
Before I went to watch the World Cup final, I made a phone call to Kathmandu. The student I talked to said, “By the way, tomo...  | Read.. 
For my belief is that if we live another century or so — I am talking of the common life which is the real life and not of the little separate lives which we live as individuals — and have five hundred a year each of us and rooms of our own; if we have the habit of freedom and the courage to write exactly what we think; if we escape a little from the common sitting-room and see human beings not always in their relation to each other but in relation to reality; and the sky too, and the trees or whatever it may be in themselves; if we look past Milton’s bogey, for no human being should shut out the view; if we face the fact, for it is a fact, that there is no arm to cling to, but that we go alone and that our relation is to the world of reality and not only to the world of men and women, then the opportunity will come and the dead poet who was Shakespeare’s sister will put on the body which she has so often laid down.Drawing her life from the lives of the unknown who were her forerunners, as her brother did before her, she will be born. — VIRGINIA WOOLF