When my father was gone, a large part of my past would disappear, like one of those videos you see of landslides, an entire cliff with a winding road and cars disappearing into the swirling river.

A tribute by a younger writer and longstanding admirer who was greatly inspired by Mehta.

In this age where everyone aims only to be right, the American writer risked being wrong.

On the anniversary of Mohammad Akhlaq's lynching in Dadri, Amitava Kumar presents a brief prose-poem that tries to regain a sense of the human that is increasingly under assault around us.

When threats are made to kill Kanhaiya, we can't help but recall the killings of other activists over the years

It is dismaying to see that the brave reaction to the action of the writers in returning their awards has been either petty or trivialising