Postcards from Pune: Capturing the Soul of the Oxford of the East

There are cities we live in, cities we pass through, and then there are cities that quietly seep into our bones, wrapping themselves around our memories like a familiar tune. Pune belongs firmly to the last category.

For decades, it has been known as the Oxford of the East, a city where intellectual rigour and cultural richness walk hand in hand. Yet, ask any Punekar and they will tell you that their beloved city is so much more than just universities, institutes, and IT parks. Pune is an attitude, a rhythm, a stubborn pride, and—most delightfully—a sense of humour that can only be described as quintessentially Puneri.

And it is precisely this spirit that Postcards from Pune: Love, Life & Laughter in the Oxford of the East—the fifth book in the Heartbeats of India series—seeks to capture.

The Fifth Beat in a Growing Symphony

When I began the Heartbeats of India series, the idea was simple: to tell stories that bring alive the soul of Indian cities. Mumbai with its restless energy, Gurgaon with its paradoxes of glass and grit, Bengaluru with its blend of cosmopolitan dreams and old-world warmth, and Chennai with its cultural depth and coastal charm—each city revealed itself through stories of ordinary people living extraordinary slices of life.

And now, it is Pune’s turn to take centre stage.

This book is not a guidebook, nor is it a history lesson. Instead, it is a mosaic—fifteen short stories stitched together with threads of love, loss, humour, and nostalgia. Each story is a postcard, stamped with the city’s essence and posted straight to your heart.

Postcards from Pune

Pune is a paradox. It is ancient yet youthful, rooted yet restless. Walk down Lakshmi Road and you’ll see tradition stitched into every sari and every shopkeeper’s gesture. Drive across to Koregaon Park, and you’ll find a cosmopolitan buzz, with cafés where laughter mingles with the strumming of a guitar.

There’s the intellectual Pune of the Film and Television Institute of India and Savitribai Phule Pune University, the spiritual Pune of Dagdusheth Ganpati and Osho Ashram, and the indulgent Pune of Chitale Bandhu bakarwadis and Vaishali dosas. It is this multiplicity of faces that makes the city endlessly fascinating.

And just like the city, the stories in Postcards from Pune are layered and diverse.

Stories that Stay With You

Take, for instance, the chapter “Return Ticket” set on the Pune-Mumbai Expressway. A young IT engineer, who thought he had outgrown his hometown, finds himself questioning everything on a Shivneri bus ride back from Mumbai. The road, the conversations, and the memories pull him towards an unexpected turning point.

Or “The Girl Who Drew Mandalas” at Parvati Hill. Here, art becomes healing, as a burn survivor-turned-street artist creates mandalas that stir something deep in a man who once bullied her in school. A story of redemption, forgiveness, and the quiet power of creation.

Then there are lighter slices of Puneri life—quirky characters at Vaishali waiting endlessly for a table, a nostalgic walk through the narrow lanes of Tulshibaug, or the bittersweet humour of a retired professor navigating WhatsApp University with his friends. Each tale is steeped in the peculiar mix of wit and warmth that defines Pune.

The Humour and the Heart

No book about Pune would be complete without its wit. Puneri patya (signboards) are legendary for their dry, sarcastic humour: “Bolchal kam kara, kaam jast kara” (Talk less, work more), or “Yethe park karne ahe tar gaadi gheun ghara jaa” (If you want to park here, better take your car home).

In the book, this humour peeks through dialogues, interactions, and little cultural quirks. But humour is never used just for laughs. Often, it masks deeper emotions—longing, regret, affection, or nostalgia. For that is how Pune speaks: with wit on its lips and warmth in its heart.

A Personal Note

For me, writing Postcards from Pune was like revisiting an old friend. Every street corner had a story, every wada a whisper, every bakery a memory. The research was not in dusty archives but in conversations—over misal at Bedekar, over tea at Good Luck Café, and sometimes just in the quiet of Parvati Hill at sunset.

As with the earlier books in this series, the challenge was never what to include, but what to leave out. Pune is inexhaustible. But I hope these fifteen stories, varied as they are, capture at least a part of its essence—enough for readers to laugh, reflect, and perhaps, pack a bag to visit the city themselves.

Pune as a Mirror

Ultimately, Postcards from Pune is not just about Pune. It is about us. About how cities shape us and how we, in turn, leave fragments of ourselves in them. The IT engineer questioning his choices, the artist finding healing, the old professor learning to laugh at himself—these are not just Puneri stories. They are human stories.

And perhaps that is why readers across India (and beyond) have embraced the Heartbeats of India series. For while the backdrops change—from Mumbai locals to Bengaluru start-ups, from Chennai beaches to Pune hills—the core remains the same: love, life, and laughter.

The Road Ahead

With this fifth book, the Heartbeats of India Series has reached a milestone. But the journey doesn’t end here. India is vast, its cities brimming with stories waiting to be told. From Jaipur’s pink hues to Kolkata’s intellectual adda, from Hyderabad’s biryani trails to Varanasi’s ghats, each city beats with its own rhythm.

For now, though, I invite you to pause and listen to Pune’s rhythm. To climb Parvati Hill at sunset, to stroll down Deccan Gymkhana, to hear the laughter spilling from FTII canteens, and to taste the sweet crunch of a Chitale bakarwadi.

And as you do, may you find your own postcard from Pune—one stamped with love, sealed with laughter, and delivered straight to your soul.