My latest book is The One Who Swam With The Fishes.

"A mesmerizing account of the well-known story of Matsyagandha ... and her transformation from fisherman’s daughter to Satyavati, Santanu’s royal consort and the Mother/Progenitor of the Kuru clan." - Hindustan Times

"Themes of fate, morality and power overlay a subtle and essential feminism to make this lyrical book a must-read. If this is Madhavan’s first book in the Girls from the Mahabharata series, there is much to look forward to in the months to come." - Open Magazine

"A gleeful dollop of Blytonian magic ... Reddy Madhavan is also able to tackle some fairly sensitive subjects such as identity, the love of and karmic ties with parents, adoption, the first sexual encounter, loneliness, and my favourite, feminist rage." - Scroll

Sign up for my newsletter: The Internet Personified

12 October 2012

Urban meditations

(I wrote this for National Geographic Magazine,but they wanted something more city-ish, so I decided to use it here.)

There’s a particular time of day when Lodhi Road actually makes my heart contract—literally squeeze. It’s about 4.30 pm. It’s about October-ish or July-ish. I’m driving from the India Habitat Centre towards Safdarjang Tomb. The sun catches the leaves and the light that filters through them, down this avenue, is so soft and rich and gold, you’re almost in another time. If you’re looking down at the pavements, sometimes a breeze will lift the old dry leaves and the melancholy that evokes is sweet and too much to bear. 

I used to have the same feeling; a combination of stillness and yearning and pit-of-my-stomach-anticipation when hurtling down Bandra’s Carter Road in a rickshaw. A road is a strange place to have an epiphany, but then if it’s a straight road, combined with the almost automatic task of driving, it can make you zen-like, transcendent.  What is Delhi if not its roads?

It’s on Lodhi Road that I think of the small, quiet things in my life that are important to me. It’s a sad road some days, tied up with the death of a beloved person—those memories sometimes chase me home at two in the morning. But in the very early evening or very late afternoon, Lodhi Road is the best of all roads. It is, in fact, my urban meditation.  


  1. Love the feelings that this post evokes and the concept of "urban meditation". Really admire gems like these from your writing. It's so true that as you mentioned, on a straight, long rode where driving becomes a mechanical action, it is so easy to lose oneself in a train of thoughts...

  2. I so agree. Sometimes, I take an off from work ( I have a 9 to 6 job), just to go drive on that road. Feels like being back to the queen's era.


Thanks for your feedback! It'll be published once I approve it. Inflammatory/abusive comments will not be posted. Please play nice.