By Shashi Bellamkonda ·
The Cellular Jail in Port Blair has a long corridor of cells, each one built so prisoners could not see one another, radiating out from a central tower like spokes. Near the entrance there is a list. Names, home provinces, sentences. I stood there scanning it the way you scan any list looking for your own reflection, and what I found instead was an absence. Bengal, over and over. Punjab, again an…
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By Shashi Bellamkonda
I am writing this from Hyderabad, on vacation, in the same city where I first read about the Ghadar movement in one paragraph of a school textbook and moved on without a second th…
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By Shashi Bellamkonda
Personal Essay | September 12, 2026Guests Show Up. An Audience Is Designed.By Shashi BellamkondaThe Qualtrics XM Analyst event this week was not held in a hotel ballroom. It was…
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By Shashi Bellamkonda
Personal EssayThe C-2 had been in the air about an hour when the crew signaled with their hands. Here we go, here we go. I was facing backward, which is not how you expect to land…
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By Shashi Bellamkonda
My son texted me from the platform at Huntington. Everyone just got off the train. Not delayed, not canceled, just off, the whole car of people standing up in that particular hurr…
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By Shashi Bellamkonda
I was reading the AI Observatory's new report last week, a study built from 24,521 real chatbot conversations pulled from seven existing datasets and led by researchers at Sta…
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By Shashi Bellamkonda
I watched this movie on the United flight from Las Vegas this week.It was a masterpiece. A window into a forbidden world. Very human, and a story that leaves you hanging, wonderin…
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