The great Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan, King of the World (1592-1666), died in confinement, in Agra Fort, imprisoned by his son, Aurangzeb. As he lay dying, he looked down from the balcony of the Musamman Burj tower at the pearlescent dome of the Taj Mahal he created for his beloved wife. (more…)

It’s a grey evening in Washington, DC. The rain, falling heavily, creates a pewter gloss on the road as I am driving home from work. It makes me want to be back in Lahore, during the unexpected Spring showers, when we sit on the veranda in my ancestral home with my paternal grandmother, known affectionately by everyone as Mader; mother in Dari. (more…)

It was a hot day in Lahore. The kind of day when the Loo wind blows in from the Cholistan Desert, as the sun casts its tungsten-white glow on the people of the city. The canal’s water a dirty brown, small children leaping in one by one, to cool themselves off in the 40C heat. The willow trees lining the bank, drooped and in prostration, praying for the monsoons to come. (more…)

 
As promised, this is recipe part II, from the menu at the Nairobi Reunion dinner I hosted in my home for my childhood friends. (more…)

The Nimat-Namah, known as The Sultan’s Book of Delights, is a late 15th Century book inscribed in Persian, for the Delhi Sultanate represented by Sultan of Mandu, Ghias ud-din Shah and completed under the reign of his son, Sultan Nasir ud-din Shah. Bearing the son’s seal, this gem is housed at the Oriental and India Office Collections of the British Library, containing page after page of fifty intricate miniatures, painted in the distinctive Shirazi school style in jewel-like tones. (more…)

Lahore, my birthplace, is a city of ornate derelict Mughal buildings and the place where Sikh ruler Maharaja Ranjit Singh lays at rest; a true cultural crossroads. It is also the setting for Kipling’s stories, where you will find Kim’s Gun on the Mall; the main artery where the rickshaws, cars and motorbikes weave in and out of the lanes like tiny insects. (more…)

The French have their pillowy, like-a-curdled-creme, soufflé-like version of scrambled eggs. The Latin Americans have their huevos revueltos; the Colombians serve theirs with pillowy arepas. Us Pakistanis & Afghans have our own version of scrambled eggs, called Khagina. (more…)