One must be somewhat mad to leave home at half-past four in the morning, but such are the demands of a working life in the corporate world. After reaching my office, I was scheduled to move to Pune on dreary official business and catch the Vande Bharat Express from Mumbai CST around 4.30 pm. I reached the nearest railway station. The platform at that hour, just before the sun bothers to show its face, is a theatre of muted exhaustion. I stood yawning until my jaw ached, a deep, cavernous ache of the unslept, looking for a local train to reach the office. The chai-wallahs, bless their entrepreneurial spirit, saw my distress and converged, chanting their mantra of “Garam chai, garam chai!” around me. I thought to myself, poor fellows, they don’t understand. In my present state, just a little cup of hot tea wouldn’t suffice to banish the sleep;…
Ananda Mukherjee was, by all accounts, a contented man. At forty-two, he was a respected physics professor at a reputable college in Kolkata. He…
Introduction This collection of short tales from the China-Burma-India Theater of World War II and Johnston Island is my embroidery on stories that my…