Tipitalks
Everyday things that move me to write
Commentary, reflection, and the odd domestic disaster.
My First Tattoo
I sat with the idea for two years before saying a word to any artist. What emerged on Rupert's iPad was sharper and more considered than anything I'd imagined — and eight years on, it still looks exactly as it did.
The Other Side of Grief
We have lived with Manu's diagnosis for nearly twenty years. The pain did not disappear — it simply made room for pragmatism. What looks like detachment is really just a mismatch of timelines.
The Sacred Space of Solitude
My best ideas don't arrive in brainstorms or debate. They arrive in the quiet — and in tracing back every meaningful breakthrough in my life, they all share a common origin.
A Plate Full of India
Two sisters from Mathura piped chutneys into a mandala on Masterchef India and stopped me mid-scroll. Eight hours later, I drew mehendi patterns on black slate and brought a small, sincere portrait of India to a potluck lunch.
Lola – The Love of My Life
I never thought I'd become a cat person. Then a neighbour's cat wound herself around my ankles one quiet evening, and everything changed. What followed was a winter of persistent conversations, a breeder, a watery eye, and a birthday that could not have been better timed.
My Mother and Her Quick Wits
Aai has always been known for her quick wits. Not the first thing you notice, but absolutely the last thing you forget. Then one evening at the dinner table, she delivered a single sentence that nearly made us spray our mouthful across the room.
The Story of My Name
I have always been Tripti. Then a board exam hall ticket quietly, bureaucratically, unceremoniously renamed me — and that single misplaced vowel has followed me across decades, continents, and a British passport.
Dudhi, Diaspora & the Grandmother in a Book
When I spotted a plump, pale dudhi at a South Asian grocer in Manchester, I brought it home like a trophy — and reached for the cookbook that has been a grandmother to Maharashtrian women the world over.
The Sports Fanhood Dilemma
It's IPL season again. My family has migrated to the sofa. I am at the other end of the room, upright and bewildered, watching them watch the game.
The Hypochondriac Chronicles: Swati vs. Her Own Body
My sister walked into my parents' bedroom at midnight and announced that her head felt tight. My mother, half asleep, told her to stand in the bathroom and see if it loosened.
The Great Chocolate Ball Catastrophe of 1999
I had just finished my degree and was waiting for results. I was also, it turns out, about to commit a serious crime against chocolate.
Nanu: The Man, The Myth, The Banned Book
I was thirteen when my grandfather published his book. It sold twelve copies — all bought by my mother. Then she couldn't get rid of them, so she donated them to the school library.