Like thousands around the world, if you too loved An Equal Music, the Galle Literary Festival may very well be your only chance to ask Vikram Seth, face to face, what it felt like to create that tender, potent love story. You could also meet Karen Roberts, who with one powerful scene recreated the full horror of that hot day in July 1983 or Shyam Selvadurai through whom you were introduced to Arjie.
The babes in arms cried and whimpered, little knowing that they were in fact getting one “shot” instead of two while gaining protection not only for four but five diseases.
The babies with their mothers, gathered at the newly-opened Central Vaccine Store down De Saram Road at the premises of the Epidemiology Unit on January 1, were also the first to get the shots for a new vaccine introduced this year.
Odd, the memories that linger, long after a place is gone….
Driving through the city as the rain pelts down, my heart bleeds for the pedestrians scurrying desperately for a roof to shelter beneath. The only spots available to them are ramshackle bus halts, skimpy overhangs in front of shop windows or the imposing entrances to up-market shopping malls flanked by glowering security guards.
Like thousands around the world, if you too loved An Equal Music, the Galle Literary Festival may very well be your only chance to ask Vikram Seth, face to face, what it felt like to create that tender, potent love story. You could also meet Karen Roberts, who with one powerful scene recreated the full horror of that hot day in July 1983 or Shyam Selvadurai through whom you were introduced to Arjie. 
The babes in arms cried and whimpered, little knowing that they were in fact getting one “shot” instead of two while gaining protection not only for four but five diseases.
The babies with their mothers, gathered at the newly-opened Central Vaccine Store down De Saram Road at the premises of the Epidemiology Unit on January 1, were also the first to get the shots for a new vaccine introduced this year.
Odd, the memories that linger, long after a place is gone….
Driving through the city as the rain pelts down, my heart bleeds for the pedestrians scurrying desperately for a roof to shelter beneath. The only spots available to them are ramshackle bus halts, skimpy overhangs in front of shop windows or the imposing entrances to up-market shopping malls flanked by glowering security guards.