Much like the famous German song “Ichhabmein Herz in Heidelberg verloren” by Fred Raymond, which later became the theme song of

I confess: music for me is intimate. I don't know about genres and canons. Nor do I know the reasons that compel a composer to

I fell asleep within my sleep and woke up to find myself in your dream, which is also mine.

Nadeem longed to join the crowds in the streets. When no one was around, he watched his own face in the mirror as he improvised a

There is hardly anything anywhere in the net to indicate how good Razia Khan Amin (1936-2011) (aka Razia Khan, or Mrs. Amin to us

When snow falls, people at a distance

Past giant mountains, which collide with the blue linings of the abyss,

We were in Cambridge, Massachusetts, waiting for a table at a popular restaurant. There were only two benches and a chair arranged

This evening, it's my nose or maybe I've been getting intimations of the sweet odor of burning incense!

O Mayor! My Mayor!

Charulata Akhter was an ordinary, braided, floral salwar kameez-wearing nineteen-year-old from the Shundarganj village of Rangpur.

After a long field trip, hunger gripped the mission members who could barely wait to eat, yearning for whatever they could find. The

How innocently I met Islam! It was through a humble kind of “How do you do?” proffered to a handful of Rajasthan mosques; among

Freedom, you are

His ears attuned to the husky whisper

Some day, I will make a film about a group of lepers. These lepers, who—living in their melting , rotting bodies, but still resistant—

1971 has been my greatest passion for the last forty-six years. It has been my pair of glasses with which to look at people and things.

“The Magic Lamp” is a collection of 25 short stories by Okri inspired by 25 original paintings by Rosemary Clunie. Okri calls it his “first real unintentional intentional book”, after having been spontaneously inspired by one of Clunie's paintings. Spontaneous, however, may not be entirely accurate.

Ah, Moon of my Delight who know'st no wane,

“Doctor,” I chalk on the charcoal board. I ponder for several long seconds until I put two crosses on it with the kind of exertion that