tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67274526648213283042024-03-05T09:45:26.263+05:30Treading the (un)beaten trackHello, and thanks a ton for stopping by! Here you'll find the ramblings of a girl err...woman left uninterrupted, or a woman left to her own devices! It's in such moments of uninterrupted ecstasy I find myself, far, far away from the madding crowd, where an Oak tree, shepherds me. ;)Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.comBlogger121125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-49812714885463882962023-05-15T15:31:00.009+05:302023-05-15T15:32:16.773+05:30I've moved to MediumIf you came here looking for me, thank you. I am humbled and delighted. 😚I now blog in Medium. You are welcome to read my stories there. Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-59091386312837634562017-12-15T14:32:00.002+05:302023-05-15T15:21:55.317+05:30Destination Sikkim - Till we meet again
On the third day, we went to the Sikkim Himalayan Zoo. It was day of little rain and much mist. The walk into the zoo was surreal because of the clouds that accompanied us. We could spot very few animals actually, but the walk around the little zoo was great. The red panda was undoubtedly the show stealer. However the whole place looked rather unkempt and uncared for. In any case it was a far Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-11344629421290431522017-12-15T14:30:00.001+05:302023-05-15T15:21:57.810+05:30Destination Sikkim - When breath ran out on us, literally
The next day morning, all of us were up and ready by 8. At 8:30 the most awaited phone call came, declaring the happy news of the permit. The Innova was to transform into a Formula 1 racing car in under 10 minutes. We would be climbing to about 14000 ft and so he began telling us about the various things we might encounter on our ascent. Well, landslides had by then become a household term, and Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-12107500083658604372017-12-15T14:26:00.003+05:302023-05-15T15:22:02.193+05:30Destination Sikkim - Teesta and Tibetan Buddhism
We entered Sikkim at about half past five and decided to make a pitstop for tea and biscuits like regular Chennaites. Chandru reminded us that we were in momo land, and so we quickly got ourselves a plate of veg momos, since the shop didn’t serve any meat. Soon, we had ordered one more and we would have done more had we had more time; it was so lip-smackingly good, and all that the little Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-2927714710260315252017-12-15T14:15:00.002+05:302023-05-15T15:22:04.879+05:30Destination Sikkim: Opening Credits
It was the fag end of May in 2016; the place, Chennai. We,
along with 4 million other Chennaites, were dragging ourselves out of the
unforgiving, sweltering heat of the 2016 summer. Of course, there was some
sporadic rainfall, but not the kind that will rescue us from the unforgiving summer
heat. That was when we decided to take a trip somewhere far away from the
searing heat. Some rain Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-67842867214108309812017-04-26T07:33:00.002+05:302023-05-15T15:22:07.723+05:30Chennai-Denmark 4: A Roman Holiday
On our way to Billund
It was still dark when I woke up to the warm, comforting
smells of lemon-flavored rice and its accompaniment, potatoes roasted red in
oil and chilly powder. Smiling at what lay ahead of the day, I woke up K and R
and went into the kitchen. Sumi had already made everything ready for the day
ahead. Packing all of the food into assorted plastic boxes and getting into
fresh Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-2056697073045325762016-12-08T08:02:00.002+05:302022-03-30T14:30:36.840+05:305 years ago...
A sudden lightness in the lower part of my abdomen woke me in the wee hours of a bright Monday morning a
good 5 years ago. I tried to turn to my side, but that was not to be. With some
superhuman effort, I heaved my rather heavy frame from the bed and managed to sit
upright. There was water everywhere. I rushed to the loo only to discover that
my nighty was completely wet. How did that happen? IHappy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-91934510341411009782016-10-18T09:30:00.001+05:302022-03-30T14:35:39.556+05:30To the weekend, with love
A week ago, I decided to take Kavin to the beach since it
was a long weekend and all. The driver parked our car and I went to the beach, carrying a
bag that contained, among many things, change of clothes for me and Kavin. En route,
we were accosted by hawkers of all hue, tempting K with their wares that ranged
from Captain America key chains to spider man masks. Some brand position and
market Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-74382718253092955002016-10-13T14:02:00.001+05:302023-05-15T15:22:33.870+05:30Chennai-Denmark 3: An Affair with Aarhus
The wide, wide roads started to narrow down as we entered
Aarhus. The sun was bidding us adieu after hanging out with us for over 20
hours straight! We hadn’t seen darkness for a long time. G drove through roads
paved with cobblestone, buildings built with exposed bricks (didn’t they know
any cement or concrete?), and long, beautiful alleys flanked by greenery on
either side.
We finally came Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-60648709758004515212016-08-21T23:27:00.002+05:302023-05-15T15:22:35.518+05:30Chennai—Denmark 2: In the middle of our dream
It was the wee hours of Oct 9, 2015 when my eyes flew open. Dawn was quietly filtering through our curtains, declaring open the much-awaited
D-Day. Yes, the next dawn in Chennai was going be at least 2 long weeks away.
Two long weeks of paradise away.
Quietly I nudged the boys, growled into their ears the
sweetness of the moment, and ordered them out of bed; 4 am the following
morning Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-38730251490331063382016-07-04T16:33:00.003+05:302023-05-15T15:22:37.966+05:30Chennai—Denmark 1: Getting Started
It all started with the tingle of an email notification on a
warm August afternoon. The email was from our BIL, G, sending us all information
necessary to make the 4000 mile journey, across the proverbial 7 seas. The
email arrived when I was having lunch with my office pals and I suppressed the
effervescent joy that was threatening to burst right off my chest. In no
time I finished my lunch andHappy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-49794735388188354872016-06-04T13:40:00.001+05:302016-06-04T13:49:00.502+05:30Iraivi: Perfecting the art of mansplaining
With all the hoopla around the very title, Iraivi, and the
manidhi song (Iraivi is an attempt at feminizing a word traditional used to
refer to God; manidhi is again feminizing the ‘man’ word), I went into the theater
expecting an honest rendering of at least one woman’s story, if not all 3,
as claimed in the trailer and the teasers. But, I guess that was too much and I
was literally begging Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-52142866724500101572016-06-03T13:59:00.000+05:302016-06-03T14:38:39.683+05:30Dil Kya Kare...Yes, Dil Kya Kare….what can the heart do, when such a number does a little dance and wouldn’t let you go?
This song has been playing on loop on my new MacAir (shrill blow of the trumpet) for almost a month now. While the visuals was umm..let’s say, better left hidden from plain sight, the tune and lyrics are to die for. Whoever penned these lines must have known the searing pain of forbidden Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-68010467764722448752015-08-01T18:50:00.003+05:302015-08-01T18:50:19.162+05:30Why?
It’s one of those lazy Saturday evenings where you are
relaxing with not a care in the world, as the baby slumbers on and you are
nursing a steaming cup of ginger tea. Many things come to mind at such divine
moments; how long it has been since you’ve had a good, long night’s sleep
without worrying about the unwashed clothes or dishes, when was the last time
you danced in the rain, when did you Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-29814957158129255182014-11-27T18:06:00.004+05:302022-03-30T14:37:28.935+05:30Going Papayas…
It was just few weeks since Kavin was born. And, in one of
those rare occasions when I get some time, I was gorging myself on a
particularly sweet papaya. At that moment, I had
a split-second thought; will I be able to grow a full tree out of this seed? I
almost shooed that thought away with, it’s just a seed now and it’s gonna take
forever to become a tree and even longer to give you fruits! Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-12856812912656212832013-08-29T14:37:00.002+05:302013-08-29T14:37:25.208+05:30Rape: Let's Unite Against The Enemy, Patriarchy
Ok, another
gang rape, should we say, a reported one? If I remember right, per a
survey that outlook published some time ago, for every 1 rape reported
in a big city, almost 64 rapes go unreported in any of the smaller
cities. In any case, I don’t want to dwell on rape, for there’s enough
and much more to spare written on rape. After all, who doesn’t want to
look the defender of a Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-18964866116247588192013-07-08T14:19:00.002+05:302013-07-08T14:19:32.388+05:30As I Mourn....
The ferocity of my unexpressed grief
shall one day
uncurl my balled fists
and get your throat
and rip that collar
of ruthless hegemony
fortified by layers of vacuousness
couched in systemic violence
that flows unabated
through your words
in your voice
spewing venom
setting my home on fire
splitting my skull
and splattering my soul
on your stealthy that love tracks
that mask Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-30834870362561627672013-04-10T15:37:00.002+05:302013-04-10T15:44:57.199+05:30Fading Façades <!--[if gte mso 9]>
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Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-50992282949761132012-09-18T12:56:00.003+05:302012-09-18T13:29:06.491+05:30At My Garden, Today<!--[if gte mso 9]>
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Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-15231345326072590782012-07-30T15:25:00.000+05:302012-07-30T15:57:45.314+05:30And, I saw Ilish in Chennai…
Ilish, for the uninitiated, is a fish from the bangla hinterland.
But she is not another fish in the sea to be simply dealt with; say with some
sesame oil or tamarind (god, forbid!) or some onions or even tomatoes! Ilish, at
least to me, is the queen among fishes. And, therefore, should be treated like
one; with minimal seasoning and very little cooking so that her inner glow
simply shines Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-49502483073468880072012-07-27T12:23:00.003+05:302012-07-27T13:07:25.493+05:30Casteistic Colour of the Church
This was written exactly 10 long years ago when I still
believed in many things; wrongly though. :) Found this buried in one of my old
mails and sharing it here because not much has changed about the church even
today. Please pardon some of my
assumptions, especially about the evolution of castes or the gross
misunderstandings of class as errors of enthusiasm…
Caste has always been Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-16799217134165173322012-06-13T20:00:00.001+05:302012-06-13T20:00:24.329+05:30This day that year…<!--[if gte mso 9]>
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Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-14823273466146164272012-05-22T17:02:00.000+05:302012-06-27T11:19:21.384+05:30No tomorrows…
In a sea of dark water
Amidst the ruthless, acid rain
Steering a rudderless boat
Filled with decaying, broken
Bones of dreams
Swaying and chipping away
As the salt of tears
Wipes away the remnant
Peals of painted hope
And ushers in the sink hole
Of acid springs
And
No tomorrows…
Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-23654600866717742352012-03-29T20:11:00.004+05:302012-03-29T20:30:49.523+05:30The Show Must Go On…The other day, I came across a music company that went by this name, and it got me thinking. Whose show were they talking about? Is it the individual’s or the team’s? Or, did they mean the show will go on, no matter what happens to the individual/team? The more I think of it, the more convinced I am that it’s the latter; no matter what happens, the show always goes on.
We have actually traveled Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727452664821328304.post-64278231012542732532011-07-05T11:41:00.001+05:302011-07-05T11:41:38.031+05:30The Need for and the Danger of SlutwalkA few years ago, I overheard a couple of feminist friends talking about surrogacy and the need for a more nuanced debate in India, and how a superficial engagement with the issue, without any deeper understanding, could easily pave the way for even more subjugation of the already marginalized women in third world countries. The issue in question was how some people, even liberated upper class Happy hearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037352190477312136noreply@blogger.com12