Life, Eccentricities And Me

Recently a piece of news information that startled the human out of me was a 16 year old brutally killing a 7 year old for a reason still unfathomable, and later showing absolutely no remorse for his heinous actions! Yes, I am referring to the Ryan International School , Gurugram scenario, wherein a child got brutally murdered in broad daylight and for months the investigating department officers had no clue as to how to approach further. But as they say, truth finds it’s way and so it did in this, when the two days back the entire nation woke up to the news of the real convict, who by virtue of his age, happens to be a minor but unlike so by virtue of his actions. The case of young Pradyuman getting brutally murdered within  school premises, makes us question the safety and security of our own children. The case being one of its kind did send a chill down our spines, leave alone make us brood over the death of an innocent life which was yet to bloom! The case and it’s convict rai

I hear your heartbeat within me, I feel you within me. Who am I? I am a mother! I help you open your eyes to this beautiful world. Who am I? I am a mother! I hold you while you take those wobbly steps for the first time. Who am I? I am a mother! I withhold my tears when your tiny hands leave mine to hold your first teacher's. Who am I? I am a mother! I strain my already tired self just to console you when you are scared at night. Who am I? I am a mother! I watch the time race ahead, but wait patiently for you to eat first after you return weary due to work. Who am I? I am a mother! I pop a pill at times to keep up a strong front to let the home run in tune. Who am I? I am a mother! I forgo my meals to keep you full. Who am I? I am a mother! I sacrifice my happiness to put yours ahead. Who am I? I am a mother! I pose a pleasant disposition even though I am broken from inside. Who am I? I am a mother! I rest way past bedtime after all have rested their tired backs. Who am

While browsing through one of the top notch English channels on the television, I happened to chance upon a series that would soon be aired, “The Talvars”. Now, this highly sensational twin murder case that rocked the nation in the wee hours of 15th-16th May 2008, left us in a literal drunken stupor! The case made us question the roles and responsibilities of a parent; it made us wonder “the hand that rocks the cradle”, is it the same hand that can silence its own flesh and blood! Having said that, it’s one of those rarest of rare cases wherein the actual verdict is yet to be deciphered though the seemingly convicted parents, The Talwars, have already spent quite a prime of their lifetime in the prison. The reason for penning down this, isn’t to understand who the real accused is/are, but to understand the extent of inhumane behavior that can be reflected in the actions of mass media, such as television. These days television shows have reached a level wherein the viewers are compel

I do not know if anyone has yet used an analogy as weird as this one-the more I watch “Chota Bheem” along with my toddler, the more amused I find myself! Chota Bheem, to me is way beyond a mere cartoon character, for me he is that hapless citizen of a nation whose government doesn’t believe in its own powers but relentlessly keeps vesting in a lot of aspiration in him; again, Chota Bheem is that employee under an inefficient leader who doesn’t hesitate to give him the sole responsibility of the entire organization (if I may assign “Dholakpur” village as that) each time he meets an adversity! Chota Bheem, who is constantly battling all odds and upstarts to keep the “best employee”/“best citizen” award on his crown intact, is, deemed nothing but an half-witted individual according to me. He rises to the occasion each time his government/supervisor resigns to his fate; he wards off malignant forces that time an again threaten his nation or the organization, does tasks which are otherwis

“Secret Superstar” a film that the nation is going gaga over is a story of any other Indian girl whose life has no real celebration, whose life has no purpose, the only one being satiating her husband in every possible means! Don’t we have abundance of “Inziyas” around the society? They are the girls whose birth isn’t anticipated much, whose self esteem is crippled and crushed, whose wishes and desires die a muffled death. And these are initiated at the hands of their own kith and kin! The film revolves around a young girl’s sole aspiration of becoming a renowned singing sensation, that gets brutally trampled by the male chauvinist ego of her father; a father who believes in acting as an autocratic force of power in the entire household; a father who bashes his wife at the drop of a hat; a father who becomes the flag bearer of extreme favoritism towards the male child. The film is Inziya’s single handed struggle to fulfill her dream and also free her mother from her perpetrating par

"Jagga Jasoos" a cinematic marvel by none other than Anurag Basu. The "Barfi" man just to reiterate his cinematic excellence. Each time he leaves his audience craving for more if not anything! "Jagga Jasoos", a much deliberated, delayed but awaited movie of the year caters to each of the human senses transporting us to the picturesque locales which again has been meticulously selected just as the star cast. A cast with the likes of Ranbir Kapoor, Saswata 'Bob Biswas' Chatterjee, Saurabh Shukla, Rajatava Dutta can recreate nothing but the best! The dialogue delivery, specially by Ranbir Kapoor the protagonist, Jagga, in the form of music, which deftly camouflages his stammers is brilliant and first of its kind. In spite of the ensemble cast, two individuals who shoulder the film from inception to conclusion is Ranbir Kapoor and Saswata Chatterjee! The film may/may not cater to the masses but it would certainly go down deep into the hearts of t

"MOM" an indispensable part of our lives, an omnipresent, an omnipotent figure, she's all this and a true manifestation of the almighty on the earth. Thus rightly claimed, "God couldn't be everywhere, hence he created mothers"! Now, when such an individual becomes the protagonist of a film, named the same, can be nothing but magnificent. Sridevi, though catching up on age, is still the epitome of elegance and panache; she still flutters quite a number of hearts as our "hawa hawai" girl! Nawazuddin Siddqui and a stalwart can be taken in a single breath. He never fails to surprise and mesmerize his fans. "Mom" the film is a mother's quest to make herself felt in the life of her step daughter who considers her nothing but an intruder with whom she is compelled to share her dad. It is heart wrenching to see the mother's efforts to appease her daughter being thwarted away at each step. She leaves no stones unturned to make her daug

What could be more apocalyptic than an actual apocalypse? I donning a saree! Hold on before you let that smile adorn your face, there's still more to it. Being the most unladylike, I end up with the inability to comprehend nail paints, contours and hues adorning one's face, lip crayons (in fact I ended up breaking one of them in my sheer excitement to color my lips just the way my 3.5 year old toddler does on those innocent coloring books) ! I am the most unladylike of all the unladylike females out there. No wonder, my mother used to keep my hair style same from upper kg to class viii, as she was quite confident that I wouldn't rebel, for I did not possess the least fashion quotient to even  raise a voice of rebellion. All hell breaks loose on my folks a fortnight before the day I decide to wear a saree. They dread if I would return in it unharmed, all safe and secure. My sister who is the fashionista of our house hold, refuses to acknowledge my presence publicly, given

Yes, you read that right! The "other" woman in my husband's life and I thank God for her existence! The concept of the other, in our country is quite dreaded or subjected to hatred. But here the other woman who crowns my husband's life is someone for whom I have anything but hatred. She is someone who inspires me, teaches me to love and only love people around me, she by her attributes deviates  from a relationship that is so controversial in our country, by bringing in a great sense of joy and happiness. The other woman whom I am referring here is my husband's mother, my mother in law (the relation who is expected to be anything but good) or Amma as we all lovingly address her.  Post marriage, few of my friends and acquaintances had instilled in me, a belief that when you enter your husband's or in laws' house, you are already a stranger primarily due to biological reasons moreso when you are from a culture that isn't theirs! So as a bride I was quit

Dear Baba, Yes no fancy names but a simple way of addressing someone who's been and will always remain my idol forever, and eventually would stand as a benchmark to be met, each time I meet someone who claims to be a gentleman. Baba, an epitome of simplicity and patience (read, immeasurable amount, unperturbed, untouched by any grief or strife)! The faint silvers that adorn your hair are an evidence to years of experience coupled with an unparalleled wisdom and knowledge for practically everything one can fathom; and what's even better, your undying thirst for more knowledge, a keen interest to learn new approaches even if it means that's being imparted by individuals half your age! Baba, perhaps I have never shared this but unlike all children, my first ever teacher has been you, you have guided me, mentored me and made me what I am today! And I am quite proud of who I stand to be and secretly wish to make you proud too! Baba, you are an inspiration for all of us an

"All characters drawn parallel to, in the underneath write up are real; it bears clear resemblance to all the real life interpretations that they have and that this is no work of fiction." On the eve of "Jamai Shoshti" (a day to celebrate the son in law, who besides being fed the costliest and rarest of edibles, are also subjected to supreme care and love), it would be more than apt to talk about the community that perhaps leave their footprints on the entirety of the world population-The Bengalis/The Bongs. Being one, no one perhaps knows more than me or you might vouch to know in case you have had the privilege of knowing any fromthis species, for they leave a trail wherever they go. You are out on a exotic vacation and suddenly you sense a bong around because of some weird addressals that manages to pierce your ear drums, yes, we are loud, not in our mannerisms but by the way we challenge the noise pollution guardians! You are destined to chance upon some Benga

It's that time of the year when your parents ardently wish you were like "Gupta Ji's" son or "Mehta Ji's" nephew or worst, they condemn you for not being like them. Yes, you guessed it right, it's results time. All that hue and cry about how you've failed to live up to their expectations; how you've ruined their reputation in that rickety colony of yours or amongst their social circle that comprises relationships that weigh your credibility by virtue of your "MARKS" let alone your intelligence or even your genuine approach to hard work! It's sad that we belong to a country where marks is of utmost importance in judging your intellect and then, English becomes the yardstick to measure your social relevance. Somewhere in erstwhile Delhi, or in the narrow lanes of some tier two city, a student shines by securing 99.6% or a 99.8% (what's with remaining decimals?), and in your own homes, you disown your child, who besides bein

Toddlers and their idiosyncrasies tickle your funny bones as much as they confront you with situations that are quite typical for them alone. Last evening when Anshika was back with her papa from the mall, perhaps she had been "trained" to refrain from divulging the fact that she had enjoyed an ice cream (which is quite a taboo when Maa is around), however the moment her mommy opens the door she enacts as if she had been fed the dessert quite against her will! Well, you can guess papa's reaction! A toddler whose vocabulary is none but an uphill task is more dangerous than a blender with a missing top, hear this out-when Maa instructs Anshika to tread carefully on a wet bathroom floor for she might "slip", she confuses it with "sleep" and asks mommy to demonstrate, which in either case is difficult and ridiculous! A toddler can come of age, mentally alone (for physically, they are usually that cute yet pint sized dynamite that can explode any instant

Embarrassments come in all forms and it generally comes uninvited, sudden and uninformed. It can be in the form of that last bite of some sticky cheese, or the fiery red chilli flakes or that small bite of green spinach, that you have failed to brush out off your teeth and it does a little "peek a boo" when you are having that important conversation with your latest crush! Urrgh! It is quite embarrassing, more so when this innocent folly of yours get pointed out by that mischievous little impish boy in your complex and you have no options rather than turn tomato red. Embarrassment is also when you try to climb onto that last seat, (last because it is near the door, slightly elevated with a cage like enclosure around, not sure what exactly goes in the mind of the manufacturer, but surely it's intended to make the seating a little too competitive and complex)in the air conditioned Volvo bus, laden with robotically programmed people, who are even clothed similar, now this

Indian middle class women and their affinity for their obnoxious collection of "Nighties" is not something that is unknown but the reason is unfathomable as to why this piece of clothing, that is nothing but a night wear, is not only an asset for pride but a fashion statement as well! Every "Guddu", "Chikoo", "Raju" or even "Pinky's" mother would ostentatiously clothe themselves in these attires (if at all I may have to call them one) and go to their respective children' pick up points or even to the local vegetable vendors. Some would even audaciously throw in a small scarf like thing which again would resemble their hideous "nighties". But the reason for throwing in that small piece of wrap is again a questionable gesture (not that it covers their modesty in anyway, some even possess such hugely designed assets that even a double sized bedsheet would fall to shame). These weird night wears come in every size, eve

One of those frosty mornings when the world stood frozen, We two rebellious souls lay beside each other, oblivious of the world and the world oblivious of us. We lay there for years it seemed feeling each other's bare, bold beauty, when time stood still. Our souls lay naked to one another, Our eyes turned windows to our surreptitious desires. Amidst the clandestine desires, we lay, breathing into one another, caressing one another, unfolding our deep dark secrets. We lay in between furrowed sheets, reeking off sweet dampness. We lay like two truant teens breaking the shackles of this world, culminating in a frenzied apotheosis. We existed in a world where time stood still. Alas! Today is the day where time challenges us and the world beckons us. We need to go, we need to break free from one another. We need to bid that last goodbye, we need to cry our hearts out before our eyes go barren forever, before our roads never meet again, before our destinies drift

         They say,"All good things          come to an end"          But I beg to disagree!          My love for you is undying          never ending and it cannot          come to an end.          Those love laced nights,          Those amatory exploits,          Those long silences between           the sheets, where only our           breaths spoke.          Those frenzied mornings,          Those calming nights, I say,          cannot come to an end.                 Those hidden hankerings...of being          with you cannot come to an end!          Those dreams of having you          completely cannot come to an end!          Those reveries of seeing you cannot          and will never come to an end!

We talk of shattering gender stereotypes but how much of it seems to be implemented yet. When was the last time a woman felt safe? When was the last time she was either not subjected to prying or preying? It hurts to be part of a society where the sole place a woman remains safe is the mother's womb; even then there are high chances of being subjected to female foeticide! This evening during one of those random playing sessions, Anshika, my 3.5 aged daughter instructed me to feign a mock situation wherein I was supposed to act as a "damsel in distress" and she would come to my rescue not as how the society would expect her to enact, for instance, the female protagonists like "Barbie" "Frozen Elsa" "Mermaid Princess"  but as "Spider-Man" , and there too, she refrains from accepting to be adorned in the "pink" costume (the one worn by "Spider-woman") but wants the conventional "blue and red". I feel goo

Indian viewers and daily soaps are like the hand and glove combination, inseparable and unavoidable. The remote for others in their family is an inaccessible object till their quota for the day isn't over and even when they've exhausted the zillionth atom of each of these daily soaps, they would retire for the day exclaiming, "Na, it's bed time!" That sigh in their voice is like the ultimate favor that they do while handling you the remote, when you can barely open your eyes! And these daily soaps feed on controversies, estrangements,  multiple marriages (I mean, 1.4 billion people are either struggling to get out of it or trying to get into it...at least once, and here, the protagonists don't spare any opportunity to marry their own/borrowed/neighbor's wife/girlfriend/fiancée; perhaps they would soon start harping on same sex marriages or even something that I learnt today, "sologamy", celebrating self love, self compassion) or even bereavemen