That aunty of my life…

I have many single girl friends who tell me how they completely hate attending social functions since the topic of discussion, is not the function itself, but how they are still single even though they are entering their third decade of existence. It is true. It is mainly the aunty whose name you have no recollection about, who probably doesn’t know what you do for a living but has a vague idea (she works with media and camera) but definitely feels that she is the best to tell you how you are doing wrong by not getting married when you ought to.

While my friends tell me this story, I think about all the time I have been picked on for doing the exact opposite.

23 is apparently the correct age to get married, according to the same i-don’t-know-how-i-am-connected-to-you aunty, but when you actually do get married, the same kinda aunty asked me if there was a problem since I got married young. One of them even hinted if I was pregnant.

I had a child at the age of 26. The most apt time according to the same aunty. But when I did, she asked me why I decided to have a child so early. I could have waited for some more time. You could have done so much more, now you are stuck.

So to that aunty of my life, Thank you.

Thank you for reminding me that many women try to pull the other women down, and not encourage and motivate them.

Thank you for being the reflection of this society which keeps telling you (not subtly) that you are not enough, whatever you do.

Thank you for being a representative of that mindset which believes that women don’t have a life after they have a child.

And definitely thank you for being the spokesperson of those who believe that equality doesn’t exist in a marriage.

You make me push myself more to be a better wife, a better mother and overall, to be a better woman, more than you for sure.

 

If you have a boy…

It was a public secret that J wanted a girl.

Sitting in our terrace in the evening, J on the hammock and me with my 6month pregnant tummy, I remember picking out names for our yet to be born junior.

We had selected a name for a girl.
What if it’s a boy?
We’ll see then. But I know it’s a girl

Fast forward to March 24,2015 – Aryav was born healthy and premature. The same year, two months later, M had a healthy baby boy as well. It was also a public secret that M wanted a girl.

On an afternoon, after the congratulatory calls, I remember a conversation between J and M.

So we have boys now.
We wanted girls but it’s not something we can control.
I realised that it doesn’t matter now, boy or girl.
I know. It doesn’t matter. But I also realised something. We have boys because it might be in our households that we can teach the best on how to treat women. Our boys will grow up to be men who respect women, treat them equally and stand up for them, when needed.

Aryav turns three in exactly two months. Nothing has changed much around me. From Nirbhaya to abuse of children at school, things only seem to have gotten worse and unsafe for girls/women.

So if you have a boy, on this National Girl child Day, promise yourself that you will do something very little at home.

We try every single day to make Aryav realise that he is only equal to any girl, neither inferior nor superior. That amma and appa both have meetings to attend, and it’s okay for amma, like appa to go away for 2days for work. And it’s also normal for appa to feed you lunch just like the way amma does!

So if you have a boy, like us, do something for all the girls who might be as old as your little dude today!

The reason I go to work.

(Written a while back…) Dear Aryav, You are too young to read this. Well, you are too young to even say Amma and Dadda, to walk without stumbling and to eat by yourself. But in any case, I am writing this letter to you. A …

3pm at Cubbon Park, Bangalore

Let’s start by saying that it was not a usual afternoon for me. Standing and clicking, I saw the joy in these young women when they spoke about their stories, where they have reached, and what they have achieved in life. When I do hear their stories, I question many a times about what I have been doing with my life.

 

It was three in the afternoon, and I have never spent an afternoon such as this one at Cubbon Park. They had already gathered and it took Priyanka and me a good 5 minutes to walk to the interiors and find these young women. We gathered to discuss the December 11, 2013 judgement by the Supreme Court, personal stories and violence and injustice faced by the sexual minorities, especially transgender community at the hands of the police. I was taking pictures for documentation and also for Akkai Padmashali, an activist, who will be a speaker at the TedX event to be held in Bangalore.

 

In just about 10 minutes, a man came and stood next to the group, and listened to the conversation.

Why are you taking pictures madam. What is happening?

Its for a project. 

You should come in the evening. You will find more of them.

I told him to move aside since he was coming into my frame, and continued to do what I was supposed to. They chose Cubbon Park because this space had stories and experiences which shaped their lives. They chose this space because it held meaning in their lives and here they were discussing the most current and pressing issue.

They finished the discussion and then asked me if I could click some solo pictures and email it to them. After a group photo for conclusion, they wanted me to take some pictures near this tree.

 

 

During this time, another man decided to be a part of the group, but passively. He followed us till he realised that I had a camera.

 

 

This tree held no significance to me till the time I went there. From posing near the tree, to playing with a branch, we heard stories of survival, clicked a few pictures till the time we were interrupted by a group of security guards. I wasn’t aware of these security guards and was a little amazed at their interest in our gathering.

Why are you here?

We have a meeting, and we are clicking some pictures.

Even before this conversation continued, two constables joined the gathering.

So what are all of you doing here? Why are you here?

We are having a meeting and clicking some pictures.

People like you should not be here.

How can you say that? Take it back. This is a public space.

In between this conversation, he takes notice of my camera and me standing on a side, pointing the camera at him.

You tell me madam. What is happening here?

We are from a radio station. I am taking pictures. We are having a meeting. That’s all. Why is it so hard for you to believe?

Nothing like that madam. We are saying this for safety. Why are you inside here? You can all sit outside on the benches and have the meeting.

In between all of this, I could not help but notice his tone. I wanted to punch him.

This is a public space. We are not breaking any rules or regulations. So I don’t think you are needed here. 

Let’s move on and not waste time here. 

We walked out of Cubbon Park and I could not stop thinking of wanting to punch him. But he might not be the only one thinking like this. And obviously, me wanting to punch him or people like him is not the solution.

I remember reading an article related to growing violence against women in the country and it said something which I still remember and may be it might work here.  It said that mindsets have to be changed, but changing mindsets is a process. It takes time. May be generations. But what can change immediately is the law. The law to protect people against such mindsets. The law which is non-discriminatory. The law which is equal and not biased. The law which respects human rights and their right to live with dignity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Humpty Dumpty sat in the train!

Next time, I think I will take the bus.

I reached the station with half hour to spare (which Norwegians will say is veldig god tid) only to find out that my train is late by good 25 minutes.

In the 45 minutes, I make some calls, send messages, check inbox and finally see my train approaching the station.

“Give me way. You need to give me way. Else I will hurt you”
Well, the ‘gentleman’ who was getting down was making us understand this. Yes sir, you will hurt us, especially when we are waiting for you to get down with your suitcase. In between this, it is but obvious that you give us some gyaan! Free country, free people, muft ki advise!

It was only after the ‘I will hurt you man’ who took more than 3 minutes to get down gave us way (without hurting any of the 30 odd people waiting), that we entered. Well, I just remember entering and then exiting when I saw my seat. I felt like being a part of the stream which just took me with it.

After exchanging my seat thrice due to parents travelling with babies being separated that I settled in seat number 18, aisle (it was written there). I wondered if someone would come give safety instructions.

I remember that people get very cranky with crying babies in a flight! I have heard people say that while checking in online, they should mark seats with babies so that you don’t sit next to them – well, I found the solution in a train! Technology!!!

Not a moment after I sat, I saw all the three couples taking out an iPad, an iPhone and a Samsung something really big… And then the babies were silent (they still are)! I need to ask my mom what she gave me!!!

I can hear ‘Mary had a little lamb’ very clearly right now. And some other song I can’t figure out. The kid next to me is watching some cartoon show which I don’t know the name of. Well, we had 5pm to 6pm kids hour on doordarshan and you had to choose either tv or playing outside – I remember it was always playing outside. And days when I watched, there was only Mickey Mouse, Chip n Dale and Tom Jerry…

Mary had a little lamb is now changed to ‘mere dil ko… Ishq sufiana’. I wonder who is listening to it now. I don’t want to, but I can clearly hear it.

Technology. It’s all over the place.
And with all ages.

Oh, Humpty Dumpty is back. It’s going to be a great revision for me today.

Next time, I think I will take the bus.

An ode to BBMP!

Dearest Brothers, Sisters, Uncle, Aunties, Grandfathers and Grandmothers of BBMP.

How are you doing? Is everything going alright with you? Sabh theek thaak? Oh, I am sorry! Chanagidira?

I just thought of saying a respectful hello to all of you on this beautiful rainy evening. Nice weather right?  It’s been amazing monsoon here at Bangalore, and I am sure you agree with me as well. No scorching sun, just the refreshing feeling while getting wet in the rain… but wait, I just realised something. I am not just getting drenched from fresh (still a little polluted I know)  rain drops from above – it’s also from the water below. Have you felt the same my brothers, sisters, uncle, aunties, grandfathers and grandmothers? How do you travel? Please do let me know. It will be quite insightful.

My love for the rainy season is being butchered into pieces day by day! Courtesy: Your amazing roads! They seem to be on a completely different level altogether! Every time  I think it cannot get worse than this, you surprise me! Why? Why? Why? Especially when you are on the bike – trust me – you are missing a lot of fun sitting with your glasses up, and fancy doors in those four wheelers.

In the past 7 months of my riding time, I came to realise one thing – Auto bhaiyas and aunties are not very fond of the bike bhaiyas and aunties. Car bhaiyas and aunties are not very much in love with the auto bhaiyas and aunties… but during this rainy weather, everything seems to change… it feels so equal right now at the road. Or actually I feel lot more respected. Care to ask me why? All because of you my amazing people. You are building this new feeling in all your citizens!

Let me elaborate.

When there is a small vacant place in the road – usually it’s bike bhaiyas and didis who run to get that place. That small slip right and then left and it’s mine! It’s like putting the handkerchief on the bus seat from the window! It’s MINE!

But thanks to this weather, and obviously, YOU, there is a sense of patience in people. Today when there was a vacant spot – no one moved. I could almost here all the auto, bike, car people saying Pehle Aap, Pehle Aap! So much respect! Why? Cause that place had some accumulated water and no one knew what to expect! How deep??… that’s the pehle aap pehle aap, you see!

So we waited till an auto driver finally got tired and gathered all his courage (with his passenger looking as if he was driving into a cliff) and crossed the lakshman rekha. It was deep. We just didn’t see it – we felt it with the gush of water that fell on us! I know you want us to feel clean at the end of a hard working day – trust me, it’s the cleanest I have ever felt.

Tell me please – I really would like to know – where should I be looking through my water droplet covered helmet glass at the car in the front, the bike on my left and a bus (which seem to think people on bike do not exist) on my right or at the water which is there below and I do not know what to expect?

I seem to be constantly jumping in and out of your amazing shaped potholes! It is adventurous, I totally agree!

Please tell me, is there any mandate which says that the potholes in a city should be equally proportional to the size of the population. Is there? Cause then, Bangaloreans need to definitely stop family planning. We are way behind the league when compared with the potholes in the city! We are lagging behind! Buck up, Bangalore!

So now what?

I have sincere request. Don’t worry – it’s not about repairing the potholes or fixing the roads! It’s like the usual routine, especially during the monsoons. I was suggesting something more simpler – a wiper built in helmets for bike riders! Isn’t that much more doable? Do let me know.

Thank you for your time.

I shall be remembering you again tomorrow!

Robinson and Crusoe

It’s evenings like these and plays like these that love you theatre so much more!

Robinson & Crusoe has nothing to do with Daniel Defoe’s novel Robinson Crusoe.. It’s a fun play to watch with honest performances.

It was something I least expected and I was happily surprised. I haven’t laughed like this watching a play in a long time. The play, which consists only of two actors had enough to keep me seated for close to an hour and a half.

What I loved the most – the simple subtle and at times eccentric expressions of ‘You You’ especially the one about THE LAMP.

A Saturday evening well spent 🙂

the road to leh…

When I told ma that we were going to Leh and Jammu, she told me to my face that I was crazy, and that I was pulling J into this! She thought (and may be still thinks) that it was a ridiculous idea. Firstly Leh, and then in September when there are umpteen number of instances of landslides and things.. Ma, I think, was going to have a heart attack. Mutacha said it is a good place, beautiful one, but told us clearly to take a portable oxygen cylinder. You will need it for sure, he said. Dad said to be careful.

It was a ridiculous idea, I agree with ma, but a perfectly beautiful ridiculous idea. I always wanted to go there, and I finally found someone who was crazy enough to come with me (and take me) there, happily and with the same amount of adventure and laziness like me 🙂

     

 

              The road at Rohtang pass where many innovas, and even bullets were stuck!          

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                  

                                                                 

View from our bus on our way to Leh – totally worth it 🙂

 

 

 

As I told him in the bus from Manali to Leh, this was the most beautiful and most craziest journey I have ever undertaken. It was scary for all the creepy turns we took, for the bridge we crossed knowing it was broken, and for the turn on rohtang pass which I thought would get us killed! And it was beautiful, for the obvious reasons.. for the beautiful mountains that didn’t seem to leave us at all (I missed them when we reached Jammu), and for the amazing company I had next to me, sleeping, eating and talking.. or lets say, listening most of the time 🙂

It took us 24 hours by road to reach Leh, with a overnight halt in Keylong.. And I must say, that our driver, of the Himachal Pradesh Tourism Department Bus, which we took, was a great one. We could sleep on the way, that should be an indicator 🙂

It is a by-road experience which, I would suggest, should be done once in a lifetime. And they say ‘once’ in a lifetime for a reason – as beautiful a journey it is, it is tiresome. I don’t think I will ever want to sit in a bus that long, especially during the day, ever again. And the some of the roads to the mountains and the passes, well, lets just say I tried best to keep things inside my stomach there itself (unsuccessful when we went to the world’s highest motorable pass – Khardung La). But nonetheless, its something which is a must do for everyone who loves mountains, journeys, and like me, my camera – I had a lot of work to do in that 24 hours journey 🙂

We were high on the mountains, especially the journey from Manali to Leh.

September 2012 – Thank you for not pouring down and ruining the dream trip =)

| book-ed |

What do you do when you have to travel almost 1 hour to reach the nearest good bookstore, travel by two means of  public transport and when the sun is all too hot to handle? You switch to Flipkart. Okay, well, let’s say I switched to flipkart.

Flipkart has been a revelation to me, and I am not being generous with the term here. Ever since second semester, I’ve heard S telling me how he has a book or a pen drive or yet another book on the way through flipkart. And I heard him wondering to myself how can you book or buy things online.. the thought was a little distant to me. But then, people change (yeah yeah yeah!) and I bought my first book this January using flipkart, Devdutt’s Mahabharata, and trust me it’s an evening I will remember. I did not realise that getting a book parceled, which by the way, I paid for, will give me so much joy. Opening that yellow sealed envelope and taking out the book rapped in the bubble cover – I loved that evening!

So, Mahabharata then gave way to the Pallace of Illusion (a fantabulous book, and a must read for mythology fans, and actually anyone else who like s a nice read) which gave way to Butter Chicken in Ludhiana! So, one book for a month, and that was my philosophy which I followed till April. But once I came back to city life of B , I was back among these modern super book stores, and the feeling of being in them.

       

                                                        .Just finished.

Sitting in crosswords for almost three hours, and reading through different books before picking up my recent additions to my book shelf, I realised how I missed being in book stores! The ‘fun’ of buying books online was limited only to the fact that it was tiresome to go all the way to a book store. Whatever you say, the way you feel when you hold the book, read the backcover, the prologue, or even the first chapter, is way different than how it is when we read the reviews online. Well, for me, it was different. And I realised that if I can, and if the sun is not too harsh, I would go to a book store (big or small, doesn’t matter) or even the popular book streets and get my copy rather than doing the same with the help of a browser.

    

                                             . Soon to turn the pages of….

So the point? Well for me, I found out that it’s not just the reading habits that change over time. It’s also the way you get your ever-cherished books, the sources, the places, everything changes over a period of time.

But whatever and wherever you get the books from, new interests arise, old ones subside, but the books stay with you, on the shelf, or somewhere you don’t exactly remember 🙂

| Untitled |

When you work on some projects, it gives a satisfaction. Not just because the output is great, but because during the process, you had memories and experiences which you will remember for a really long time. One such project we did as a group was a stop motion+ time lapse video – my most favourite work!

Do watch!