He was fifty. An entrepreneur. The kind who lives on numbers. Revenue, margins, growth curves, projections. He spoke comfortably in percentages and quarterly targets, and...
Constipation is no longer a digestive complaint. It is a scheduling problem. In my clinic, it arrives daily, politely disguised as lifestyle confusion. “Doctor, I...
Bengaluru winters never storm like Delhi’s. It creeps in like a shy intern: polite, underconfident, but somehow managing to disrupt the whole office. One morning,...
When I was nine, my grandmother made something called ginna from the thick yellow milk a neighbour’s cow produced after calving. It looked strange—custard with...