The Telegraph
Sunday , September 22 , 2013
 

Diary of a film maker

The man finds himself at the Victoria coach station after a maddening drive from north London. Despite it being a Sunday, central London is in gridlock because of the triathlon event taking place on the streets (and water-body). The man’s friend flings him out at the coach station from an ageing ...   | Read..
 
Letters to the Editor
Shout to get heard
Sir — I was watching a live telecast of a Lok Sabha session on a news channel. I was appalled to se ...  | Read.. 
 
With respect
Sir — Gender prejudices are an embedded evil in human society. In India, this evil is more pronounc ...  | Read.. 
 
Children’s princess
Sir — Thousands of people turned out to hear Narendra Modi in Jaipur while millions watched him on ...  | Read.. 
 
EDITORIAL

BACK TO REALITY

Most market analysts and observers seemed surprised by the move of the Reserve Bank of India governor, Raghuram Rajan ...   | Read..
 
DIARY
 
bullet Sweet talk
bullet Wish list
bullet Conspiracy theory
bullet Name game
bullet Happy feet
SCRIPSI
It is not malice that draws me away,/ Draws me to renunciation, betrayal:/ It is weariness, I go for weariness of thee,/ Gold, ivory, flesh, love, God, blood, moon —/ I have become the expert of the catalogue./ My body once so familiar with glory,/ My body has become a museum:/This part remembered because of someone’s mouth,/ This because of a hand,/ This of wetness, this of heat./ Who owns anything he has not made?/ With your beauty I am as uninvolved/ As with horses’ manes and waterfalls./ This is my last catalogue./ I breathe the breathless/ I love you, I love you —/ And let you move forever. — LEONARD COHEN