Navtej Sarna

From my room in The Oriental hotel, I can gaze endlessly at the muddy Chao Praya, as it flows sluggishly past the concrete and glass...

Dear Mr. Naipaul, Forgive me for not calling you Sir Vidia. Somehow, that doesn’t trip off my tongue easily. Perhaps it is the democratic...

The Ancient Mariner of Coleridge’s classic poem fixes his gaze on an innocent wedding guest and does not relent until he has told him his...

Sometimes the very slimness of a book attracts. While there are times that one loves the feel of several tomes on the bedside table, each...

Sometimes things have a way of building up gently, unobtrusively. Serendipitous straws in the wind have been pulling me back to James...

To the writer of a column called “Second Thoughts”, it should have long occurred to read a book called Second Thoughts of an Idle Fellow....

THE allure of a literary recluse is difficult to resist, particularly in a world where authors are falling over each other to be in the...

CALL it a leftover fantasy of youth, or perhaps the last burst of middle-aged angst, but I still want to do a Kerouac. Just pick up the...

THE two hours in Lahore permitted only a quick lunge into a highly recommended bookshop. But the pickings were good. The top catch was a...