Indian Writing

An all-women team of India’s CRPF is travelling to Liberia on UN peacekeeping duty.

From Orhan Pamuk’s Nobel Lecture, “My Father’s Suitcase”.

What I feel now is the opposite of what I felt as a child and a young man: for me the centre of the world is Istanbul. This is not just because I have lived there all my life, but because, for the last 33 years, I have been narrating its streets, its bridges, its people, its dogs, its houses, its mosques, its fountains, its strange heroes, its shops, its famous characters, its dark spots, its days and its nights, making them part of me, embracing them all. A point arrived when this world I had made with my own hands, this world that existed only in my head, was more real to me than the city in which I actually lived. That was when all these people and streets, objects and buildings would seem to begin to talk amongst themselves, and begin to interact in ways I had not anticipated, as if they lived not just in my imagination or my books, but for themselves. This world that I had created like a man digging a well with a needle would then seem truer than all else…

…for cancer and other diseases? Interesting article in the Scientific American here. And here is the M.D.Andersen page on Turmeric and Curcumin.

“I had thought I’d have so much to tell the family when I meet them, but now when I am actually meeting them, I can’t say anything.” Naseeruddin Shah on meeting the Modys, whose story is retold in Parzania.