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Friday, April 17, 2026
The life and times of Leander Paes
Friday, March 20, 2026
During my time in Sportsworld, I would take a news item and convert it into a satire or humorous take
News Item: Zico’s frustration apparently got the better of him 36 minutes into the second half of the game between his team, Kashima Antlers and Kawasaki Verdy in the J-league in Tokyo. This was when the referee awarded the latter team a penalty. As Verdy star Kazuyoshi Miura prepared to take the kick, Zico walked up and spat on the ball.
I AM Zico’s spit. I hit the headlines recently. During a league match, my boss sent me flying through the air. I thought that, as usual, I would land on the green turf. Imagine my surprise when I landed on my friend, Cosco the football.
He looked at me in a daze as I fell with a thud on his face.
“This is really bad manners,” Cosco said.
“I am very sorry, Cosco,” I said, feeling embarrassed.
“You had the whole field in front of you and yet, you had to fall on me,” Cosco said in that hurt tone. “And that too, at such an important moment as a penalty. You know that I have to concentrate very hard, so that I can swerve, depending on which way the boot hits me.”
“My boss is going a little crazy in the head. I can’t imagine how he could have done this to you. After all, it is only through you that Zico has earned a decent livelihood for over 20 years. You have served him well. Both of you have developed such a wonderful rapport. And from being a boy in a poverty-stricken family, he is now a millionaire. I could not believe it when he sent me flying at you. It's shocking, to say the least.”
“Times change,” Cosco said in a philosophical manner. “People change. Zico has changed. He is no longer the soccer player he used to be. I remember what dazzling skills he displayed in the 1980s, especially during the ’82 World Cup. Now, as he reaches his forties, his skills are deserting him. He seems to be injured most of the time.”
“Yes,” I replied. “The other day when my boss got injured yet again, I had a talk with the shins and the knees. And they said that they could no longer stand the pressure of top class football. They told me that they had been doing the job for about twenty-five years now. They just can’t take it any more. After every match, they are bone-tired. They want to stop playing altogether. But Zico insists on pushing himself. I guess, like most people, he is doing it for the money.”
“The craving for more money creates so many problems in life,” Cosco the football said. “In my career, I have seen so many top-class football careers ruined by money. When money comes in, luxury comes in. Women come in. Drugs come in. And then the player loses his hunger and passion for the game. As time goes on, he thinks less about his game and more about how to make greater amounts of money. He is willing to sell himself to the highest bidder.
I suddenly felt sad about what Cosco was saying. He had been a top class football for twenty years and had seen a lot of life. So what he said was the deep, unvarnished truth: I was struck into silence.
“Watch him get mad,” Cosco said, as the referee showed Zico the red card. My boss’ eyes became red, like the card and then he shouted at the referee, “You are a cheat. You want Kawasaki Verdy to win, by hook or by crook. I shall complain about you.”
I rolled down Cosco’s face and moved some distance away.
“Hey, what’s the hurry?” Cosco said.
“The penalty is about to be taken,” I shouted, over the din of the spectators in the stadium. “Kazuyoshi Miura has gone to the top of his eight-step run. Cosco, it’s time to get back to work.”
Cosco immediately closed his eyes and frowned in deep concentration. The Japanese player came up and struck Cosco cleanly. The football rose up in the air and when it seemed that it was about to sail over the bar, it suddenly dipped and went into the net. Goal! The game was played for another five minutes and then the referee blew the final whistle.
I slowly began to walk away from the turf. It was the end of another day. But as I reached the players’ tunnel, Cosco, who was sitting on the referee’s arm, shouted at me, “Hey Zico’s spit, despite everything, I forgive your boss. Give my regards to him. After all, both he and I go back a long way.”
(Published in Sportsworld, February 9, 1994)
Friday, March 06, 2026
Shevlin Sebastian's journey through journalism and storytelling
Photo by Ratheesh Sundaram. In a Bangalore bookstore
Many thanks to the creativebrandsmag for
this write-up:
https://creativebrandsmag.com/from-kolkata-to-global-recognition-shevlin-sebastians-journey-through-journalism-and-storytelling/
Intro: Veteran journalist and author Shevlin Sebastian, with over three decades
of experience and 4,500 published articles, has become a finalist in the
UK-based Global Soup international short story competition. His career spans
leading Indian publications, acclaimed investigative scoops, children’s novels,
and crime writing, marking him as a versatile storyteller.
Shevlin Sebastian’s name has long been familiar in Indian journalism, but his
recent recognition as a finalist in the UK-based Global Soup international
short story competition has brought his literary talent into sharper focus. For
a man who has spent more than three decades chronicling the lives, struggles,
and triumphs of others, this accolade is a reminder that his own story is
equally compelling.
Born and raised in Kolkata, Sebastian’s early years were steeped in the
cultural vibrancy of the city. His professional journey began with Sportsworld,
part of the Ananda Bazar Patrika Group, where he honed his skills in sports
journalism.
From there, his career took him across India, with stints at The Week in Kochi,
Hindustan Times in Mumbai, and The New Indian Express in Kochi. He also briefly
worked with DC Books in Kottayam, gaining exposure to the publishing industry.
Each stop added layers to his understanding of storytelling, sharpening his
ability to capture both the immediacy of news and the timelessness of human
experience.
Over the years, Sebastian has published an astonishing 4,500 articles, covering
a spectrum of subjects that defy easy categorisation. His writing has explored
films, crime, humour, art, psychology, literature, politics, sports, and human
interest stories. This breadth reflects not only his versatility but also his
curiosity about the world.
His blog, Shevlin’s World, has become a repository of his work, attracting over
24 lakh hits—a testament to the resonance of his voice with readers across
geographies.
Sebastian’s career has not been confined to the newsroom. He has ventured into
fiction, publishing four novels for children, and his short stories have found
homes in diverse literary platforms.
Singapore-based journals like Kitaab and Borderless Journal, Toronto’s Scarlet
Review, Pune’s Active Muse, Guwahati’s Twist and Twain, and India’s
juggernaut.in have all carried his work.
These publications reveal a writer unafraid to cross borders, both literal and
literary, in pursuit of narrative expression.
His recognition in the Global Soup competition is particularly significant. It
situates him within an international community of writers, affirming that his
storytelling transcends cultural and national boundaries.
For Sebastian, whose journalism has often been rooted in Indian contexts, this
achievement underscores the universality of his themes and the adaptability of
his craft.
Yet, to view Sebastian solely through the lens of literary accomplishment would
be to overlook his formidable impact as a journalist. Among his many stories,
one stands out as a landmark in Indian sports journalism.
In 1992, he reported swimmer Loraine Varghese’s allegations of sexual
harassment by coaches in national camps. This was the first time such claims
had been publicly made in post-Independence India, and the report reverberated
through the corridors of power, prompting questions in Parliament.
It was a scoop that not only demonstrated Sebastian’s investigative acumen but
also his courage in amplifying voices that challenged entrenched systems.
His career has also taken him to the frontlines of global sporting events. From
the Asian Games in Beijing to the Cricket World Cup in Johannesburg and the
Olympic Games in Athens, Sebastian has witnessed and reported on moments of
athletic triumph and heartbreak.
These experiences enriched his perspective, allowing him to weave narratives
that combined the thrill of competition with the human stories behind the
medals.
In recent years, Sebastian has turned his attention to long-form crime writing.
His first true-crime book, 'The Stolen Necklace', published by HarperCollins in
2023, delved into a crime in North Kerala, blending journalistic rigour with
narrative flair.
The book marked his entry into a genre that demands both meticulous research
and compelling storytelling. He is currently working on his second crime book,
further cementing his reputation as a writer capable of navigating the
complexities of human behaviour and societal structures.
What makes Sebastian’s journey remarkable is not just the diversity of his
output but the consistency of his commitment to storytelling. Whether through a
newspaper article, a blog post, a children’s novel, or a crime book, he has
sought to illuminate aspects of life that might otherwise remain in shadow. His
work reflects a belief in the power of words to inform, challenge, and inspire.
The recognition from Global Soup is, in many ways, a culmination of this
lifelong dedication. It acknowledges not only his skill as a writer but also
his ability to connect with readers across cultures.
For Sebastian, who has spent much of his career documenting the achievements of
others, the spotlight is now on him. It is a moment of validation, but also an
invitation to continue exploring the possibilities of narrative.
As he completes his second crime book and continues to publish stories in
international journals, Sebastian’s trajectory suggests that his best work may
still lie ahead.
His career is a reminder that journalism and literature are not mutually
exclusive but can enrich each other.
The precision of reporting can sharpen the imagination of fiction, while the
empathy of storytelling can deepen the impact of journalism.
In an era where the lines between media, literature, and digital platforms are
increasingly blurred, Sebastian embodies the adaptability required of
contemporary writers.
His blog, with its millions of hits, demonstrates his ability to engage with
digital audiences, while his print publications affirm his relevance in
traditional formats.
His international recognition signals that his voice resonates beyond national
boundaries, offering insights into the human condition that are universally
relatable.
For readers, Sebastian’s journey offers inspiration. It shows that persistence,
curiosity, and a willingness to explore diverse forms of writing can lead to
both professional success and personal fulfilment.
For aspiring journalists and writers, his career is a case study in how to
balance breadth with depth, versatility with focus.
Ultimately, Shevlin Sebastian’s story is one of dedication to craft. From the
bustling newsrooms of Kolkata and Mumbai to the literary journals of Singapore
and Toronto, from the stadiums of Beijing and Athens to the crime scenes of
Kerala, he has pursued narratives with passion and precision.
His recognition as a finalist in the Global Soup competition is not just a
personal milestone but a celebration of a career that has consistently sought
to illuminate the world through words.
And as he continues to write—whether about crime, sport, or the intricacies of
human relationships—one thing is certain: Shevlin Sebastian’s world will remain
a place where stories matter, and where the act of storytelling is both a
profession and a calling.
Sunday, January 18, 2026
Art That Changes You from Within (A Journey Through the 6th Kochi-Muziris Biennale)
Photos: Curator Nikhil Chopra; the theme of the Biennale; Assamese artist Dhiraj Rabha with his work; Kerala artist KB Shajith's 'WipingOut'; ‘The Parliament of Ghosts’ by Ibrahim Mahama of Ghana
Wednesday, January 14, 2026
Many thanks to South First for their coverage of the Thajudheen case
Sunday, January 11, 2026
A book, 'The Stolen Necklace', that played a role in a landmark court judgement
Caption: V. K Thajudheen (left) and Shevlin Sebastian
These are some of the conclusions:
The court ordered the State Government to pay a total of ₹14 lakh
in compensation.
- ₹10
lakh for V.K. Thajudheen for his illegal arrest, loss of job, and mental
agony.
- ₹1
lakh each for his wife and three children (total ₹4
lakh) for the defamation and harassment they endured.
The court explicitly stated that the state is free to recover
this compensation amount from the specific police officers responsible (SI P.
Biju and ASIs Yogesh and T. Unnikrishnan).
The court noted that this award does not prevent Thajudheen
from pursuing further civil lawsuits against the officers for larger damages.
On May 2023, my book, in collaboration with Thajudheen,
called ‘The Stolen Necklace’ was published by HarperCollins detailing the
trauma that he and his family went through.
Asaf Ali told me recently that he had submitted the book to
the judge among many other materials.
He feels the book played a role in this judgement. So, I am
happy I was able to play a role.
Here’s what chief sub editor and senior reporter Ronnie
Kuriakose wrote in The New Indian Express:
A 2023 book, The Stolen Necklace by former TNIE staffer
Shevlin Sebastian, depicting the travails of Thajudheen, played its part in the
case. “The book was submitted in court to make the point that the incident was
no ordinary arrest, but one that gained national media attention.
It presented the telltale circumstances of the incident. And
from my understanding, the court did appreciate what it conveyed,” Asaf Ali
said.
On this, Thajudheen said, "I’m glad that the book, which
tells my story, has helped." He also recalled sitting down with Shevlin to
write. “We met every day for six months. He used to come with a flask of hot
tea, and we’d sit for hours poring over the notes in discussions. Recalling
some memories even brought tears to my eyes,” Thajudheen said.
Later, in 2022, the book was pitched to publishers and
received positive responses. “It did well, but I did not imagine it would make
its way to my defence in court as well,” he added.
The book, in addition to narrating the incident, also charts
Thajudheen life, his aspirations, and how it was all derailed because of a
single day. “It’s my life story. My past, present, and a robbed future,”
Thajudheen concluded.
Speaking to TNIE on the development, the writer Shevlin said,
“I’m so happy. Thajudheen’s whole life had come to a juddering halt because of
the incident. This verdict is the first ray of light in his life after so long.
I also think it will be a deterrent to police offices and put a stop to their
excesses. I’m happy the book played a small role.”
May thanks to the Kerala media for extensive coverage of this
ruling in print, online, radio and TV.
Wednesday, January 07, 2026
From the Centre to the Margins (Life in an Upscale Retirement Home)
“60 is so young,” said the shocked visitor.
“Yes, but she couldn't handle her husband’s sudden death.”
At the upscale retirement home I visited recently, in Kochi, each door represents a life story. Some never expected to be here. Others opted for it. But with monthly rents of five and six figures, they are all well-to-do.
Many had lived abroad and had been successful doctors, engineers, architects, professors, and entrepreneurs. For long they had been in the centre of their universe. But everybody had to succumb to tempus fugit (‘time flies’ in Latin).
From the centre they have been gently pushed to the margins. Because of old age, and mostly, physical frailty. A plaque for long years of service. Handshakes and hugs. Cakes and wine. Loud laughter. And then silence. Which stretches into decades.
You can see some being pushed on wheelchairs. Others lean on walking sticks. An attender held the hand of a stiff-backed person taking tentative steps.
One couple is from California. “I wouldn’t say my husband is happy, but it’s better than being there. We had nobody to talk to. The problem in America is isolation.”
To combat loneliness, numerous activities are planned during the day. Card games. Knitting. Yoga. Music. Brain Gym. Physical gym. Swimming pool. Men and women gather. They talk with each other. They smile. But there are a few who remain isolated.
Deaths create havoc steadily. The husband might die; the wife now lives alone. Or the wife might die. “It’s very difficult for a man to live alone,” said a resident.
And when visitors visit the seriously elderly, in their nineties, the question is the same: do you know who I am?
The bedridden man or woman will stare at the visitor.
Sometimes, he blurts out the right name. There is wonder all around. How great was that?
One woman said, “My husband cannot tolerate any medicines.”
“You can put it in the food,” said a resident.
“I tried, but the moment he senses a change in the taste he spits the food out.”
People are left wondering about a possible solution.
I move around.
Another woman said, “Before I left for the US, I was docile and submissive. But when I went there, I was able to develop my talents. I became confident and outgoing. My husband just could not accept the new me.”
These are people of an older generation. Divorce was not an option. So, they chugged on. It probably makes sense.
One resident said, “When we are young, we feel we can live without our spouse. Divorce seems easy then. But at this stage, we cling to each other. There is nobody else.”
Another woman said, “Mothers today should teach their sons to cook, clean, and respect boundaries. Otherwise, there will be too many divorces. Young women are so evolved now.”
The women easily exchange notes about their life with each other. They get mental and psychological relief. But the men remain silent.
One resident worries about her daughter who is going to give birth in a few weeks. “Oh, how I wish I could be there. But I cannot leave my husband alone.” She said she had asked her daughter-in-law whether she could be there for a few days after the birth. But she has got a promotion and is finding it difficult to get leave.
Another woman remarked, “I saw her photo on Instagram. She’s got a big stomach.”
“Yes,” the mother said, with a glowing smile.
One resident said, “I take part in a group prayer on Zoom. Once a week, I have to give a commentary. I prepare but the speech I give is an inspired one. A spirit enters me and I speak. It’s magical.”
Her eyes are suffused with wonder.
The listener thinks, “This could be divine energy, or the unconscious mind.”
Several live in the past – dwelling on achievements, career highs, their busyness. In all this, the children are missing. Many are abroad, busy building careers the way their parents did. They have children, a mortgage, and career ambitions. The arc will remain the same. One day, they will also reach the retirement home and their children will carry on the cycle of life.
It’s an immaculate place. The floors are swept often. The washrooms are scented. The lawns are mowed. The tiled pathways have been cleared of falling leaves. There are large trees all around. The sky is blue. The leaves rustle in an afternoon breeze. The food is tasty. The staff move with a smile on their faces.
But most residents have a look in their eyes which states, “Too many years have passed. We are closer to the exit.”
For younger visitors, it’s an unsettling preview of what lies ahead. But to live like this, it may be better to have a chest full of currency. Preferably dollars or euros. Otherwise, it’s going to be an agonising time.









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