โ Scribed by Jaspreet Singh
No coin nor oath required. For personal study only.
Een chef-kok reist voor de laatste keer per trein van Delhi naar Kashmir en blikt terug op zijn leven dat is bepaald door de verdeling van Kasjmir tussen India en Pakistan.;"Kip Singh watches India pass by his window on the slow train to Kashmir. Timorous and barely twenty, Kip arrives for the first time at General Kumar's camp and is placed under the supervision of Chef Kishen, a fiery, anarchic mentor who guides him towards the heady spheres of food and women. Though he is Sikh, Kip feels secure in his rightful allegiance to India, the right side of this interminable conflict. But when he comes across a Pakistani `terrorist' with long, flowing hair, swept up on the banks of the river, everything changes... Mesmeric and lyrical, Chef is a story of hope, love and memory."
๐ SIMILAR VOLUMES
SUMMARY: Kirpal Singh is travelling on the slow train to Kashmir. As India passes by the window in a stream of tiny lights, glistening fields and huddled, noisy towns, he reflects on his destination, which is also his past: a military camp to which he has not returned for fourteen years... Kirpal,
"India is passing through the night. Night, just like rain, hides the ugliness of a place so well. We are running behind the backs of houses. Thousands of tiny lights have been turned on inside them. Towns pass by, and villages. I remember my first journey to Kashmir on this train. It was a very hot
SUMMARY: Kirpal Singh is travelling on the slow train to Kashmir. As India passes by the window in a stream of tiny lights, glistening fields and huddled, noisy towns, he reflects on his destination, which is also his past: a military camp to which he has not returned for fourteen years... Kirpal,
SUMMARY: Kirpal Singh is travelling on the slow train to Kashmir. As India passes by the window in a stream of tiny lights, glistening fields and huddled, noisy towns, he reflects on his destination, which is also his past: a military camp to which he has not returned for fourteen years... Kirpal,