In Vacant or in Pensive Mood

Did you think that peer pressure is something experienced only by children and youth? Well, think again! I ride my scooter to work and face peer pressure on a daily basis. At almost every traffic junction, there is at least one fellow motorist behind me, honking to tell me I should cross, several seconds before the light turns from red to green. Even when I am just approaching a traffic junction, if the light has turned from green to orange (for the couple of seconds before turning red), there are more than one motorists behind me insisting that I keep going - even though traffic rules and common sense, both lean towards slowing down and stopping at the junction. Sadly, however, this kind of peer pressure isn't limited to the roads. Even in the journey of life, people expect us to keep rushing forward. Remember Dr. Viru Sahastrabudhhe's speech in the 3 Idiots about life being a race? That's what I'm talking about. I'm sure every Indian can relate to this - of...

It's strange that I feel the need to write about you. After all, we've met only twice. The first time, I remember, was on the day I got married. The wedding ceremony had just finished; Arpit and I were yet to walk down the aisle together. We were surrounded by a group of people who were clicking away and documenting the first glimpses of the newly wedded couple. You were one of them. I had my eyes open, but I wasn't really registering anything. Everything was a blur, until I realised that someone from the crowd was trying to get my attention. Focussing my eyes, I saw you, showing your teeth and gesturing with your hands -- telling me to smile. I wondered who this random stranger was, someone I had never met before. Yet, I took the advice and managed to smile at the cameras facing me. I found myself looking at you again, when you gestured to me about Arpit's hair which the Achen had messed up during the wedding ceremony. You were telling me to tell Arpit to...

From my window, I saw the world outside tilt. As I held on to keep my balance, I saw the runway disappear. Within seconds, looking outside my window seemed like looking into a treasure chest; city lights turning into gold necklaces, silver bangles and ruby studs, glistening against the velvety darkness of the night. Photo by my husband, Arpit Haldar A few more minutes and the plane was surrounded by a mystic abyss. We navigated through the smokey clouds in jerky motion, not knowing where we were headed but simply trusting the pilot - a man we had never met. Then, suddenly, some light! It seemed like we had reached the end of a dark tunnel. Apparently, we were just passing by the moon's nightly abode. I looked through my window and saw the grandeur  of the moon as she sat on her throne, flanked by glorious cloud...

TN 11 AD 0*1*. It's been almost a month since the incident. The memory is fading, but I still find myself discreetly scanning number plates during my 22-km ride to work and back every day. I'm not afraid of bumping into him anymore, I just don't want to be taken by surprise if he should appear again. The occasional starer is someone I deal with easily - a death glare and a "what's your problem?" does it. The passerby with the passing comment is exactly that. I don't even give half a ear to it. The fellow motorist with the lewd singing lasts but a brief moment; a slight move of the wrist, a little acceleration on my two-wheeler, and he's left behind eating the dust I raised. Then what made Mr. TN 11 AD 0*1* so different? It was his persistence. I don't know when it really began. I was in an exceptionally good mood that day. It had just rained about an hour ago, the first rain in a long time! The Pluviophile in me was admiring the beauty of ...

I didn't fear my parents growing up, but I did have reverent fear for Valiadaddy, my maternal grandfather. He was the official "hand-holder" at all my birthday celebrations that involved a cake. He is the one who taught me, by example, to love dogs. When my myna bird - Mittoo - died, I cried a lot. Valiadaddy brought me a parrot - Kuttoo - to make me happy again. I've been a picky eater all my life. I've had a phase where I would only eat a specific type of fish, a phase where I would only eat dry fish, a phase where I ate a minimum of 6 Marie gold biscuits (and no other biscuit) with my evening tea. Valiadaddy has always made sure that he made these available to me. What's more, whenever he and Valiamummy would return from a visit to Kerala, they would bring the brown halwa for the rest of the family and red-coloured halwa, exclusively for me. He loved birds and fish and he devoted several hours a day to take care of them, settin...

When I was in college, I had the opportunity to meet and interact with a few students from the USA who were taking classes at my department as part of a study abroad programme. These students made many observations during their time here and would discuss them with us - sometimes asking us questions about things they saw, sometimes pointing out to stark differences in practices they saw between their country and ours. And as it turns out, India and USA are worlds apart in many ways. One of the things these students pointed out to was the fact that motorists, in India, honked a lot. And guess what? Apparently, in the USA, it's considered "rude" if someone uses the horn - unless in an emergency situation! Oh Indians and Americans - how different we are! If you've stayed in India, even for a day, you would have noticed that here, even the rowdiest of motor vehicles - the lorries/trucks - politely ask you to "Horn OK Please".  In most other commercial use ...