The Telegraph
Saturday , April 26 , 2014
 
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A story of reawakening

Kythera has always been the crossroads of the world. The waves of Byzantine, Ottoman, Venetian, French and British conquest have left their traces on the surrounding seas. It was another token of the island’s global dimension, which may have saved Kythera from the depression in which the rest of Greece ....   | Read..
 
Letters to the Editor
High alert
Sir — Thirteen Sherpas lost their lives in the deadliest ever avalanche on the Everest recently (“T ...  | Read.. 
 
Frank views
Sir — Narendra Modi’s interaction with the media channels of the ABP group was candid and in excell ...  | Read.. 
 
Parting shot
Sir — A murderer escaped the dreaded noose minutes before his execution when the woman whose son he ...  | Read.. 
 
EDITORIAL

AVAILABLE AND ELUSIVE

A ship full of schoolchildren sinks in the East China Sea. A few days later, on Easter Monday, in a city a few thousand miles...   | Read..
 
REVIEW ARTS
Armed forces, special powers, unease
Mention the Armed Forces (Special Powers) Act, 1958, in India, and the two places that would immediately come to an ordinary citizen’s mind are, first, the Northeast (an undif...  | Read.. 
 
Tepid celebrations
Shakespeare’s 450th came and went but, strangely, Bengali theatre boasts of only one new production in his honour. This, in a city whose natives’ connection with him goes back...  | Read.. 
 
Identity crisis
Local artist Satyajit Ray’s statement is revealing. With his tongue quite obviously parked in his cheek, he says he dreamt that lines — straight, patterned, cross-hatched — we...  | Read.. 
 
OPED
Counting on trust
Myanmar’s first census in 30 years has been extended by more than a month. It started on March 30 and was to end on April 10,...  | Read.. 
 
SCRIPSI
Every book is an image of solitude. It is a tangible object that one can pick up, put down, open, and close, and its words represent many months if not many years, of one man’s solitude, so that with each word one reads in a book one might say to himself that he is confronting a particle of that solitude. — PAUL AUSTER