It’s pretty funny to think that such an incredible day began with such a shitty morning. I awoke feeling tired, crabby and generally unmotivated. Worse, we were late because of my tardiness. That pissed me off most of all because I’m usually ready a minute or two before call time — a kind of fauji affectation I employ to demonstrate my efficiency as a Director, regardless of how late the revelries may have gone the night before. We were in Bhuj, on the last schedule of a long

Raudra Roop (रौद्र रूप) translates from Sanskrit as a “fierce,” “wrathful” or “terrifying form.” It derives from Rudra, the ancient Vedic storm deity associated with the savage and destructive aspect of Shiva. Anyone who knows me well would probably laugh at my attempt to display my knowledge of Sanskrit. It is, to put it mildly, non-existent. I’ve been mercilessly teased over the years for my “Baba-Log” background — you know the type: English-speaking, Doon School, St. Steph