Ruchir Joshi

Old Monk, the brown sage-head Indian men swear allegiance to

Coming of age at 18? No, in India, we do things a little differently. But as blank slates go, the hope is our youth will not be led and will learn to dance their own dance.

Many a writerly brow stood furrowed over the Jaipur litfest turning Rushdie-centric

Ever since GLIP, or the Great Leap Into Profit, our happiness has fused with the desire for unattainable objects and lifestyles

In the post-porn fantasy world, every man is a stud star, every woman a risque raani

On the launch of his sex anthology, Electric Feather—The Tranquebar Book of Erotic Stories

Perhaps it's time to imagine an Indian New Man into existence...

No need to buy this strange little compilation for your bathroom bookshelf, go read it at a bookstore in half-an-hour.

This 343-pg medium-fat-boy comes with plenty of surface sass and shiny digit-beads. Sure, it's kind of readable, (slong as u in't expectin a deep Joyce Ulysses type multi-level PDA)

Okay, somebody please release blood-coloured smoke from the high chimney of Homicide House, for we, at last, seem to have found someone who fits the bill.

The courts may have effectively circumscribed Sec 153A and 295A of the IPC by limiting the circumstances under which they may be invoked, yet as long as they exist in a form that allows for anyone to file a police complaint, their job is done.

As writers organise for the ban on The Satanic Verses to be lifted, the battle to undo the damage of the past quarter century has begun. It is time for India to wake up.

There is no more callous, matlabi and blindered creature than a modern art-apparatchik, I suspect not just in Navi Delhi but all over this sorry planet...

So why were the waiters so solicitous to our dillittante? "Our third friend, who's looking the most stylishly jhalla of us all offers an explanation: "It's the entertainment value. Look at all the others! They are so boring!"

It's my theory that, just like a piece of land that shouldn't be over-cultivated, no city should be over-watered with Culture, and Delhi certainly is a prime victim of this phenomena.

The cherub is standing next to Amit Chaudhuri and it makes a beautifully complete picture--cute Pravasi Bongs will always rule philistinous cities such as Delhi, no matter what shape they come in

While it is too early to proclaim the divide between the arty-ratti and the aam-public extinct, there is a start in that direction.

Why doesn't going to the multiplex and paying through your nose provide the kind of rush it used to in the early days, oh those eight-nine long years ago? Why is it, in fact, more often than not, such a bum trip?

Dillittante would like to salute the passing of a great fellow Dillittante and Dil-e-Tant, Bhaskar Bhattacharya, aka Duster to some, BB to others, and Bhaskar-da to this writer.

There has developed in Delhi a connoisseurship of the participatory performance form called the `Booklaunch'. Recently, two fairly different ones from the genre, were held on consecutive evenings...