Karina Pandya

Mumbai is constantly evolving, but one thing that has stood the test of time is its markets—especially those across South Mumbai. From the bustling lanes of Colaba Causeway to the antique chaos of Chor Bazaar, and the trading hubs of Zaveri Bazaar and Mangaldas Market, each market reflects a different side of the city. Yet, among them all, one market remains the most authentic: Crawford Market, also known as Mahatma Jyotiba Phule Mandai. Located opposite the Mumbai Police Headquarters and close to Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Terminus and JJ Flyover, it was once the city’s main wholesale fruit market. This changed in March 1996, when the wholesale fruit trade was relocated to Navi Mumbai. Built in 1869, it is one of Mumbai’s first covered markets, designed in a striking Norman Gothic style. Walking into Crawford Market feels like stepping into another era. The colonial architecture frames a scene that is anything but still—fruit vendors calling out to customers, spice sellers lining nar...

  Offering a district steeped in old-world charm—defined by Victorian architecture, colonial-era boulevards, and sweeping Arabian Sea views—South Mumbai carries a character that feels distinctly set apart from the city’s ever-expanding suburbs. Often referred to as SoBo, it remains synonymous with heritage, exclusivity, and legacy wealth.  Neighbourhoods such as Malabar Hill, Altamount Road, Cuffe Parade, and Colaba transcend their residential function—they are enduring symbols of status, shaped by decades of affluence, influence, and cultural capital. The absence of auto-rickshaws, comparatively cleaner surroundings, and immediate access to legacy business districts like Nariman Point and Fort further reinforce its standing as Mumbai’s most refined and historically anchored enclave. South Mumbai’s appeal lies as much in its lifestyle ecosystem as in its architecture. Premium boutiques, heritage clubs, elite educational institutions, and cultural landmarks are seamlessly woven...

Turning 40 is a significant milestone. It marks a shift—from building a career and identity in the earlier years to living more intentionally, authentically, and confidently. It can feel like a sweet spot in life, where experience meets self-awareness, and priorities begin to move away from others’ expectations toward personal fulfilment. There was a time when I believed life followed a neat timeline—study, build a career, fall in love, get married, maybe have children, and by 40, everything would somehow fall into place. But over the years, I’ve learned that growth is rarely linear. Life doesn’t always unfold the way we imagine. Careers can be unpredictable, love can be complicated, and healing from heartbreak can take time. In my late 20s, I expected to be married—picturing the “perfect” partner and a settled life. But life had other plans. My career wasn’t stable, and my focus gradually shifted toward finding my   ikigai —my purpose—rather than riding an emotional rollercoaster....

Karina Pandya’s journey—from being an anonymous content writer to organising poetry events, publishing a literary journal, speaking at respected institutions, and authoring multiple books—is a testament to creative courage and persistence. In this candid Q&A,   Tarun Agarwal , author of   Hope Factory   and founder of Big Bad Ideas, speaks with Karina about her journey, process, and what it truly means to follow your own path. Q1) What have been your most treasured memories of this journey? My most treasured memories are not the milestones themselves, but the moments in between—the first time someone told me my words made them feel seen, the nervous excitement before hosting my first open mic, and watching strangers become a community through poetry. Organising an event at the   David Sassoon Library   in 2017 stands out to me deeply. It wasn’t just an event—it was a reminder that spaces for expression can be created if they don’t already exist. Q2) What do ...

  It was a regular Wednesday at Angel Xpress Foundation, but it was the last day of the year for both the teachers and the children until school reopened after the summer holidays.  There was no agenda for the class on that day, just a day when class photographs were taken, and the kids could just play whatever games came to their minds. There was no bell that day, just cheerful faces.  If you thought it was the last day before the summer holiday, you wouldn’t even believe it. There were no quiet goodbyes or even speeches. Just loud laughter and noise. Kids were shouting in their groups and laughing away. It was messy, loud, but cheerful. It shouldn’t have been any other way.  We played games, and what stood out wasn’t who won or lost—it was how seriously they celebrated everything. A small win felt like a big achievement. A silly moment turned into five minutes of uncontrollable laughter. There was no self-consciousness. No “what will people think.” Just…being....

  Children are the backbone of our society and the pillars of a progressively stronger, evolving world. Yet for many, life can be difficult and deeply challenging. We live in an era where genuineness and compassion often feel rare. Success is frequently measured by titles, timelines, targets, and income. And yet, some individuals choose a different path—one defined not by external achievements, but by empathy, purpose, and human connection. This conversation explores Anubha’s transition from the structured certainty of the corporate world to the deeply human space of social impact. It reflects on what it truly means to pause, listen inward, and follow a calling—especially in a world that rewards speed over sensitivity. Through her journey with Angel Xpress Foundation, Anubha shows how compassion is not a diversion from ambition, but its most authentic expression. This is a story of courage—of choosing meaning over comfort, service over status, and authenticity over convention. Q1. ...

There are some books you read, and then there are some books that quietly sit with you long after you’ve turned the last page.   Happiness   by Danielle Steel belongs to the latter. It doesn’t rush you, it doesn’t overwhelm you—it simply unfolds, gently, honestly, and at times, painfully. At first glance, the novel feels like a loss story. Sabrina Brooks, successful, composed, and seemingly fulfilled, loses everything in a single, devastating moment. The sudden death of her husband and children is not just an event in the story—it becomes a lingering silence through every chapter. What struck me most here is how Steel doesn’t dramatise grief; she lets it breathe. Sabrina’s inability to return to her career, her quiet withdrawal from the world—these don’t feel exaggerated, they feel human. But the story doesn’t stay there. As Sabrina moves from New York to California, the narrative begins to shift—almost imperceptibly. This isn’t just a change in setting; it feels like watching...