Tushar Mangl Media

In today's fast-paced digital world, fractional ownership has emerged as an innovative concept that allows individuals to own a fraction of a valuable asset, such as real estate, artwork, or even luxury goods. This article aims to provide a comprehensive understanding of fractional ownership, how it works, the reasons behind its online growth, its scope and future in India, the associated regulations, and the risks involved. So, let us dive into the fascinating world of fractional ownership. What is Fractional Ownership? Fractional ownership refers to the division of ownership rights of a valuable asset into smaller, more affordable shares. Instead of purchasing the entire asset, individuals can buy a fraction of it, allowing them to enjoy the benefits and potential appreciation without the burden of full ownership. Fractional ownership has gained popularity across various industries, including real estate, private jets, yachts, fine art, and even vintage cars. Also read: Minimalis...

Meru was already sitting at the table, the box of sweets placed near his elbow as if he had set it down and then forgotten to move it any further in. The lid was slightly pushed in on one side. It looked like it had been held under someone’s arm for too long. I was at the counter, transferring dal into a steel bowl. The rice had been left covered. There were two plates out already. “You didn’t message,” I said. He looked up, not startled, just late to respond. “I was nearby.” That was all he offered. It did not sound incomplete to him. I brought the bowl over and set it down between us. He moved his hand slightly to make space, not looking at what he was moving away from. The sweets shifted a little but did not fall. “They gave these at the office,” he said, tapping the box once with his finger. “Too many.” “From what?” “Some client thing.” I opened the lid. Kaju katli, slightly warm still, pressed close together. I took one and handed the box toward him. He took one too, without looki...

Zahra speaks easily with strangers, from drivers to colleagues, but keeps her closest relationships limited to safe, practical exchanges. Through small, ordinary moments, a pattern becomes visible. She offers honesty where it carries no consequence. At home, where words would stay and be remembered, she chooses not to speak, and that choice quietly reshapes what remains between them. Zahra opens the paper packet and tilts it slightly so the tikkis slide onto the plate. A bit of chutney has leaked to one corner. She turns the plate once with her fingers and leaves it between us. “They were still making these,” she says. “Oil was too hot, though.” I fill the kettle and set it on the stove. From the table, she keeps talking without raising her voice. “They’ve changed the format again. Forty-five minutes now.” “That’s short,” I say. “It is,” she says. “People take time to start.” The flame stays low. I add tea leaves, ginger, milk. The sound rises and settles. “In Pune last week?” I ask. ...