Psychedelic Slippers

At the dawn of the year, as I saw myself walking into the thirties, I realised, that bound by the year, my mother and I could well be a childhood math puzzle. My mom turns twice as old as me, today. As a child, it is hard to write about one's mother beyond all the motherly things she does. For most part of my childhood, I grew up idolising my father, and finding him, in so many things I did. It is only as I grew older, I acknowledge, there's more of my mother in me than I realise(d); our cheekbones to begin with. My mother is the first strong-willed woman in my life. My parents were college sweethearts. Their  story began then. Love marriages weren't considered very appropriate in those times, and yet my mother, the eldest of 4 siblings, stormed her way into one. That draws me to say, my mother is a romantic. Aai listens. Not just in the way we all talk to our mothers, and share our woes. She has this way with people. She makes strangers pour out their hearts in fi...

Maybe, maybe she stepped out too late, or stepped in too early. (Who knows! The truth's surly !) Maybe, she trusted to soon,  (Even the hand  that held the spoon?) Maybe, her clothes were revealing, (as he took it on him, to lay her bare, cried Mr. Curious: "Too Concealing!!" ) Maybe she called it on herself (" Hello Spooky guy, come hit me as I pass by ") Maybe she was wild !!!  (a mare to be tamed) Maybe she was vile !!! (and needed to be shamed) Maybe she was born with it !!! Marked at birth,  to carry his blame! 'Cause  ain't age just a number,  when you're born with  a vagina down under?  Everyone has their stories, do the numbers matter? do the stories matter? do we share enough? do we care enough? Most importantly do we act on it enough? Do we muster that courage to call out on eve-teasers/harassers/assaulters every single time? How often do we turn a blind eye. How often do we ...

Most of us are unanimous in our concerns regarding the threats posed by plastics to the environment in terms of air, water or soil pollution. But the ease and comfort in the usage of plastic products, often overrides this concern when it comes to daily stuff. It is often just one plastic bag, just this one disposable cup, but cumulatively they don't stay just outliers in our daily patterns. Yes habits are hard to change, and it takes a lot of self-discipline to really incorporate these changes. While many of us have switched to a cloth bag for groceries, or using more durable plastics, we, women need to take a moment to consider the recurring plastic waste caused by the usage of "Sanitary napkins". Several studies [1] suggest that sanitary napkins take a really long time to completely degrade (around 25 years). While they are often looked at as a more hygienic option than cloth pads which have been traditionally used in India, the issue of safe and hygienic disposal of...

Tonight, was a beautiful night, so i must write. I must scribble, about the stars, the bewitching ones, large and bright that hold us put, with their feeble might. And also the ones, wispy and faint, smudged in (light) noise, they hidden, await. Like so many things, about you that'd lose their bling, with time, averaged, thence in a poem, must they be caged. I must indite, the little gestures, the blink of your eyes, the grip of your hand the pat on the head, the heart in the sand. I must save, the stars of the moonless nights 'cause they fill the spaces, between stars, brightest 'cause they light up the sky, when the night's darkest.

There are some movies that make you shudder at the act (e.g. Happy New Year) and then there are other movies that make you shudder with the act (e.g. Udta Punjab). Pink belongs to the latter. There are scenes in the movie when the ladies make you tremble, and you can feel yourself walking in their shoes then. It brings to the forefront an important view on molestation,stalking that often goes unreported, for even in the minds of the victims it is not a "big offense" but something they believe they can get over. As long as there's no blood or bruise, it is passable. As women, (feigning strength and independence) we would advise our friends to file an FIR, but when it comes to ourselves, we often just let it go. Everybody wants justice, but no-one wants to take the laborious path to it. There's this scene, where Andrea flees with her friend when she sees the guys. At one point you think why flee from a public place? But you place yourself there, and you know you ...

Do you cry? over glaring tree stumps, of branches past; over fallen leaves, torn flowers imprinted, in a muddy cast. Do you shudder? at broken homes, wooden caskets; that lay beneath the rubble, crushed, li'l baby baskets. Do you wince? when axes slit, through carcasses; or when you see life lying, on streets, lifeless. Do you pray? for those who willed, but were bent, by might; or for lives lost on a stormy summer night.

The good thing about IIT Kanpur is the active student involvement in the administrative processes (at least those related to students). This, I have never had a doubt about. I believed that the average intellectual of the IITians would rise beyond shallow greed to enable this system to be progressive. But over the last one year or so, I feel saddened to have been proved wrong. Around a year ago, a proposal was received to hike the electricity charges to be borne by the students in lieu of increased electricity rates. A subsequent proposal was made to recover electricity charges from each hostel individually. The proposal aimed at generating greater accountability amongst the residents(students) regarding electricity usage. This system was finally implemented in the start of the present semester. Through all the back and forth discussions, the students remained silent about the new proposal, its shortcomings etc. until they received their first bill at the end of January. Then b...