Life at the Mag

I feel like I'm living two lives. One is my life with Nani and Thoshi Dadi, filled with fun jaunts around the city to old time shops listening to old time stories. The other is my life at work, where I'm supposed to know what's "in" and "hip" and "happening"... and I don't, nor do I really care to. What I like about my job are the people I work with. They're characters.

There's Varun, an aspiring fashion designer, who likes to recite Shakespearian sonnets just for fun; and Karuna, full of sass and smarts, who's writing a tragic novel on the side; and shy Sunali, who can make even the most rigid businessman open up with his never-before-told secrets.

The editor, Meenu, is possibly the most candid person I've ever met, and she often gets into shouting matches over content and design with "The Two Brothers" who've created the magazine: Prakash, 26, who laughs like a hyena and takes care of sales and Vikas, 24, a frenetic young kid who's in charge of editorial and is always urging his team to "go out, be cool, mingle, spread the word".

The office is a constant mess of old edits and notes tacked up to walls outlining "Serious Deadlines" that never seem to be met. It's impossible to get work done here; everyone sits elbow to elbow (I'm not exaggerating) and between Varun's loud singing of Ella Fitzgerald and Karuna's entertaining stories about her nightly jaunts around the city (such as a party she went to where people actually stomped grapes in big golden vats), it's nearly impossible to write... yet, somehow, the work gets done and each issue comes out on time. I have no clue how. Maybe it's thanks to the endless cups of coffee and tea that are passed out in small styrofoam cups from the "pantry" pictured below: