Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from 2014

Marry a guy who loves his mother

I am at an age when most of my friends are getting married. Since everyone has their own parameters for choosing the 'right' partner, and most are extremely secretive about their alliances, I have never really tried to intervene or advise anyone. After all, it is the single most important decision that one makes, even more important than deciding a career I believe. To us Indians, this decision acquires utmost importance because we generally think that once married, there is no way out of that alliance, unless extreme circumstances force us to. And no matter what kind of marriage you have, love or arranged, it remains the biggest gamble of your life. No matter how carefully you choose a partner, you can never predict whether your marriage will be a happy one or not. In all this, if someone were to ask me the one advice that I have to give, it will be this - Marry a guy who loves his mother. Controversial? Why would any independent, strong headed woman want to listen to a

Life, God and Karma

Since the time a child is born, it is told that it must do good, and good will come back. Honesty is the best policy. Love all, never harm anyone, treat everyone equally, do some charity, live selflessly. All this and more of the benefits of ‘good karma’ are wired into our system by our parents, teachers and religious/spiritual leaders. God too is brought into the picture. The ever-forgiving, all-loving, omniscient and omnipresent God suddenly becomes angry and wrathful if we do something that our religion or elders don’t endorse. Whatever it is that our elders wish us to learn and do, they teach us by instilling in us the fear of God(s), the policeman and destiny. I’m sure that’s how superstition was born. Some parent told his gullible kid that it was inauspicious to walk under a ladder (lest the child get hurt), and the ladder has been bringing us bad luck ever since. As children, we tend to live in a world of idealism. We look at ourselves and everyone around us through thes

An open letter to my educated Muslim friends

My dear educated Muslim friends, Why are you so quiet? Yes you – the educated Muslim? Why do you let your extremist counterparts create such fear, distrust and misunderstanding about your religion? Why? Why is it so difficult for you to speak up? Support your girls? Dispel myths about Islam? Help your community progress? It’s all very nice of you to ‘like’ pictures of Allah and praying kids on Facebook, but why do I never see you supporting a cause? What stops you? This letter comes in the wake of the kidnapping of over 200 young Nigerian girls from a boarding school, reportedly by a radical Islamic group Boko Haram, that opposes western education, particularly education of women, who they believe are meant to stay at home and raise children. These ambitious young women, if not rescued, might end up working as sex slaves for militants, sold for less than $12 each. But it’s not this incident alone that causes me to question you. I have had this question for very long now

Is that funny or frustrating?

Have you ever tried watching an English sitcom on mute in India? Even the most serious show becomes absolutely hilarious - thanks to the censored words replaced with something less offensive to suit the Indian sensibilities. Common words, used even the most harmlessly, get replaced, which makes for some very amusing reading. Imagine what our everyday conversations would be like if they got edited like that. You go to your friend’s baby shower and you have the following conversation. Italicized words are substitutions of their ‘offensive’ versions- You – ‘Hey sweetie! Congratulations to the mom to be! So, how you doing?’ Friend – ‘Great ya, if only I could sleep at night!’                      You – ‘Oh crap ! That’s too bad, but it will only get worse. All the best! So do you know if it’s a boy or girl?’ Friend – ‘Not at all! Don’t you know pre-natal ***-determination is banned in India? But it would have helped to know, I would have gotten the right clothes.’ You –

The Living Legend

Roger Federer is my hero. There is no other player (except Sachin Tendulkar) who commands more respect from me. And that comes not just from the fact that he is a legendary tennis player. In a cricket obsessed nation, ours was a home of tennis lovers, thanks to dad. Every Federer match was an event not be missed. He was an artist in action. Absolutely class apart. The effortless ease with which he hit his shots, the graceful singlehanded backhands, his poise, his elegance. Even when two sets down, he looked unperturbed.  He knew he could clinch it. And that's what made him special. His confidence and self - belief. He is not beefed up or super strong physically. But it's his mind that defines him. The sheer brilliance of his game - so intelligent - and superior mental strength. That's what won matches for him. That took him to beat and create tennis records, going down in history as the biggest tennis legend so far. And that's the one thing that has changed in th

Kaisa bulawa aya hai?

Cricket in India is not a sport, it’s a religion. Popular cricketers are Gods of the nation, and India-Pakistan matches are undeclared national holidays. Winning the World Cup is akin to salvation. Prayers are offered and fasts are kept to ensure India’s victory. Cricket is the pulse of the nation. Not even a war can bring the kind of patriotic fervour that cricket can. And therein lies the beauty of the game. Personally, I’ve never been a huge cricket fan. It goes on for too long, and there’s not enough excitement when batsmen are going tuk-tuk taking single runs. But even I’m not immune to the patriotism that this game generates. It is impossible not to do a ‘yahoo’ or chant ‘India! India!’ when our beloved Dhoni hits a winning stroke. And that precisely is my problem with the Indian Premier League. Why should I or anyone waste their time watching a format that’s nothing but a business model? Hell, I don’t even know which team to support! Ideally I should be supporting th

Some Chardonnay please!

Let me start with a disclaimer. I’m not a drunkard. I can’t have a beer without feeling severely bloated or stomach a red wine without getting a migraine. You will never catch me drunk at a party trying to walk in a straight line… But Chardonnay… Oh dear! There’s something about it that makes me crave for it unapologetically. It tastes great, goes with various kinds of food and gives you just the right amount of high – you can giggle your way to home without losing sense of time and place (or drunk dialling an ex). Funny, my first ever blog post should be about alcohol. Tells you a lot about hidden personalities doesn’t it? Who would have imagined, that the simple, kurti clad research scholar would have a love affair with wine, but, oh well… My most recent escapade with wine happened when SK came calling. Oh she’s one hell of a friend. You can talk to her about anything without being judged, and she will pamper you and cajole you and totally spoil you with her love (even pa