George Menezes

I have reached a stage in my life when I hardly attend formal occasions barring a few funerals here and there.

It is therefore not surprising that I do not own either a tie or a good and fashionable pair of formal shoes. (more…)

How much elasticity must an old man like me have in order to stretch my memory to conversations that took place in the year 1956 somewhere in Mahim, Mumbai at their local Gymkhana? (more…)

I have lost count of the thorns in my side. Including the one of delivering this column every beginning of the month.

Now let me say that these thorns are no different from pellets from a shot gun that are being used by the police on rioters and protesters in countries that cannot decide whether they are tyrannical governments or democratic ones. (more…)

In the 40s and 50s we lived in an idyll place called Dharwad a centre of education and culture and peaceful existence. When I look back I think of it as the “desi” version of Cambridge which I visited recently to spend time with my daughter Anjali and her husband Sven. (more…)