Espionage Diary

Each spy chief had had his doubts as the book progressed. Durrani was getting cold feet, Dulat twice privately wondered whether it was worth going ahead, reminisces journalist Aditya Sinha who collaborated with the two for a first-of-its-kind spy book.

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Anglo-Indians in 1940s
The Anglo-Indians Of Mhow

There was a time in the 40s when many Anglo-Indian families moved to Mhow. Most of them worked as railways personnel. But now, most of the families have moved abroad

Denzil Lobo
Anglo-Indians In Whitefield: Preserving The Present

Established as an Anglo-Indian village in 1800s, Whitefield in Bengaluru is now an IT hub. However, in some lanes, one can still find ‘Little Gem’ and ‘Perfect Peace’—names of houses of Anglo-Indian families

Anisha Reddy
A Novel On Anglo-Indians
The Story of McCluskieganj

Journalist Vikas Kumar Jha first visited McCluskieganj in 1990 to write a story for a magazine. But he fell in love with the unique Anglo-Indian town and ended up writing a novel that has won many awards and accolades

Vikas Kumar Jha
McCluskieganj
Heterotopia

A world within a world is running out of time. But the voices of McCluskieganj’s past continue to resonate within its ruins, even as development takes over

Chinki Sinha
Opinion
The Future Of Anglo-Indians In India

Where are Anglo-Indians, as a community, heading? What does the future hold for them? Will they be around or would they be relegated to the pages of history books?

Harry Maclure

Aditya Sinha

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Updated: 09 Jun 2018 11:53 am

Byzantine Revels

A vinuous symposium in the queen of cities saw the first of many conversations that would become the ingredients of The Spy Chronicles: RAW, ISI and the Illusion of Peace. It was May 2016, and ex-Research and Analysis Wing (RAW) chief A.S. Dulat, former Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) chief Asad Durrani and I were to meet in Istanbul following a Track 2 ‘intel dialogue’ between retired officials from India and Pakistan. Our project was hush-hush. On my Turkish Airlines flight, however, I espied the academic Ananya Vajpeyi a few rows behind me. Oh no. Where do I hide? I slouched into my seat. But eventually, all flights land. As soon as I stood, the inevitable “Aditya!” rang out. She was visiting her spouse Basharat Peer who was in the city, writing. And I? “Um, a Track 2 meet,” I lied. “Oh, which one?” she asked. “Ah, the usual, peace and conflict, etc,” I mumbled, and fled the plane. A close one.