Bangalore is looked at in depth in Supriya Baily's exploration of one of India’s most dynamic cities. Booklist praises the book, saying, "This deeply researched book is especially timely in light of recent gender-based violence in India.” Through the stories of a group of school girls in what used to be India’s most progressive city, Bangalore Girls reveals how the freedom women once enjoyed in the “Silicon Valley of India” has been eroded by the rising tide of right-wing nationalism, misogyny, and religious fundamentalism. Author Supriya Baily explores one of India’s most dynamic cities through the eyes of a group of women who grew up and went to school together in the late 1980s and early 1990s. As they enjoyed the trappings of a burgeoning middle class, these classmates also watched their country move to the right politically and socially, spurred on by the Ayodhya riots that tore down the Babri Masjid Mosque in 1992 and the sectarian violence that followed—a Hindu nationalist tide that continues to rise today. The book offers us a window into these women’s lives and shows us how they are responding to the breakdown of progressivism across multiple domains. They discuss not only their own safety and the educational opportunities and challenges confronting their families; they also talk about such society-wide issues as anti-Muslim sentiment, the backlash against science, and the dangers of independent thinking. Baily gives voice to their worries about political cults of personality and government policies that seek to marginalize and ostracize anyone who speaks out against the authorities, but especially women. As Indian prime minister Narendra Modi now consecrates the new Ram Temple in Ayodhya, it has never been more important to understand the wave of nationalism that began in 1992. The stories of these women told by Supriya Baily are a must-read tale of extremism’s threat to women’s rights and human rights.

Inayah is a young, happy, religious and fun loving girl who lives with her family. This story is about her. About how she makes 2 friends whom she could count on for the rest of her life, how she fell for a person who hated her initially and about how she got over the loss she had to face. Above all, this is a story about how her faith in her God helped her overcome every obstacle in her life and also helped her to stay happy and positive throughout.

Founded by the chieftain Kempe Gowda around 1537, the story of Bangalore has no grand linear narrative. The location has revealed different facets to settlers and passers-through. The city, the site of bloody battles between the British and Tipu Sultan, was once attached to the glittering court of Mysore. Later, it became a cantonment town where British troops were stationed. Over time, it morphed into a city of gardens and lakes, and the capital of PBI - Indian scientific research. More recently, it has been the hub of PBI - India's information technology boom, giving rise to Brand Bangalore, an PBI - Indian city whose name is recognized globally. Hidden beneath these layers lies a cosmopolitan city of sub-cultures, engaging artists and writers, young geeks and students. People from every corner of PBI - India and beyond now call it home.In this collection of writings about a multi-layered city, there are stories from its history, translations from Kannada literature, personal responses to the city's mindscape, portraits of special citizens, accounts of searches for lost communities and traditions, among much more. U.R. Ananthamurthy writes about Bangalore's Kannada identity; Shashi Deshpande maps the city through the places she has lived in since she was a young girl; Anita Nair draws a touching portrait of a florist who celebrates the glories of the Raj; Ramachandra Guha describes his close bond with Bangalore's most unusual bookseller; and Rajmohan Gandhi recounts the Mahatma's trysts with the city. From traditional folk ballads to a nursery rhyme about Bangalore, from poems to blogs, from reproductions of turn of the twentieth century picture postcards to cartoons, Multiple City is the portrait of a metropolis trying to retain its roots as it hurtles into the future.

There are as many versions of a city as one can imagine. As many as the pair of eyes that open up to its landscape each morning. As many as the breaths that have been breathed in the city's air. *_Shahar_* brings you 25 of them, captured in prosaic and poetic pieces that different cities have brewed.

Among an array of human emotions, love is the best one. Company of a loving person can convert even a stern mind into delicate one. The anthology 'My Marshmallow' is all about true amour of souls. It's compiled by Gideon Rymbai under Axen Publising. Readers will undoubtedly get connected with all the soulful compositions.

Sneha Jaiswal, a 17-year-old student, is an author and a blogger. She developed her interest in writing at the age of 10. Starting from writing for school magazines, she then created pages, blogs, and websites to spread her writings all over the world. The book CUZ IT WAS NOT THE END is her debut novel and is fully based upon the happenings she observed around her. She has written this book for every girl who has gone through some cruel acts in her life. Apart from writing, she loves spending time with family, reading novels, traveling, blogging and most of all exploring nature. She is a state-level basketball player and a very big foodie.

Bangalore is often heralded as India’s future—a city where global technologies converge with multinational capital to produce a cosmopolitan workforce and vibrant economic growth. In this narrative the city’s main challenge revolves around its success: whether its physical infrastructure can support its burgeoning population. Most observers assume that Bangalore’s emergence as a “global city” represents its more complete integration into the world economy and, by extension, a more inclusive and cosmopolitan outlook among its growing middle class. Andrew C. Willford sheds light on a growing paradox: even as Bangalore has come to signify “progress” and economic possibility both within India and to the outside world, movements to make the city more monocultural and monolinguistic have gained prominence. Bangalore is the capital of the state of Karnataka, its borders linguistically redrawn by the postcolonial Indian state in 1956. In the decades that followed, organizations and leaders emerged to promote linguistic nationalism aimed at protecting the fragile unity of Kannadiga culture and literature against the twin threats of globalization and internal migration. Ironically, they support parochial cultural policies that impose a cultural and linguistic unity upon an area that historically stood at the crossroads of empires, trade routes, language practices, devotional literatures, and pilgrimage routes. Willford’s analysis, which focuses on the minority experience of Bangalore’s sizeable Tamil-speaking community, shows how the same forces of globalization that create growth and prosperity also foster uncertainty and tension around religion and language that completely contradict the region’s long history of cosmopolitanism. Exploring this paradox in Bangalore’s entangled and complex linguistic and cultural pasts serves as a useful case study for understanding the forces behind cultural and ethnic revivalism in the contemporary postcolonial world. Buttressed by field research conducted over a twenty-two-year period (1992–2015), Willford shows how the past is a living resource for the negotiation of identity in the present. Against the gloom of increasingly communal conflicts, he finds that Bangalore still retains a fabric of civility against the modern markings of cultural difference.