The boat docked at Uros Island. Jose came to meet us with a smile on his face and a totora reed in his left hand. Totora are the living reeds that float around Lake Titicaca, a massive body of water between Peru and Bolivia that is almost 13,000 feet in elevation. It’s known as the …
Continue reading “Water, water, everywhere: Gaining perspective on New Year's Day”
The world turned dark today. Nelson Mandela flew away. To a better place than this world. My memories take me back to when I was a child in India, to class IV current events class, where I first learned about the cruelty and viscousness of apartheid. And then to my days at Florida State University, …
I’m at work today, on Thanksgiving, surrounded by news that projects mankind in the worst sort of way — war, murder, rape. But I am also heartened by the best of humanity. I was especially reminded of that as I wrote a CNN story about a Holocaust survivor who met his Polish Catholic rescuer for …
Tarun Tejpal. Tehelka. Maybe my friends here in America have never heard those names. But in India, they stand synonymous with investigative journalism. Tehelka has lived up to its name, which means sensation in Hindi, since it entered the Indian media scene in 2000. Early on, the startup almost brought down the Indian government by …
In my 30 years as a journalist, I’ve written a lot about victims. Many sorts of victims. Of war. Murder. Illness. Natural disasters. And man-made ones. I always try to be sensitive and to highlight the incredible resiliency of human beings. I was lucky enough to have won a Dart-Ochberg Fellowship from the Dart Center …
I have reported difficult stories before. It was never easy to tell tales of tragedy from places like Iraq. But a piece that published on CNN.com today is the hardest story I’ve ever told. Because it became very personal. Because it was raw. The producer, the photographer, the cameraman who went with me to Maharashtra …
I turned 51 today. Last year was the milestone year. The big 50. I felt OK about it. 50 is the new 40, my older friends told me. I celebrated with a big party. My brother came from Canada, my cousin from New York. My sisters-in-law traveled great distances, too. Then everyone went home and …
“When did you get home?” a friend asked me yesterday. “Last night,” I replied. “It must feel good to be back,” she said. The pause on the phone was long enough to be awkward. “Yes,” I said. I wanted the conversation to end. But what was home? That word has always been problematic for me. I …
Seamus Heaney died today. The New York Times headline described him as “Irish poet of soil and strife.” I don’t pretend to always understand poetry though I savor it. I am always awed by how poets use language in such an artful way. My favorite poet of all time remains Pablo Neruda, who is simply …
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