Sunday, March 29, 2015

Is it Selfishness in the garb of Feminism? #mychoice

At the onset, let me get this out of the way. I know we women have had it tough. We still do. Female infanticide is still being practiced. Men rape women for pure lust, revenge or simply because they can. Women are paid less for the same job. And expected to leave their flourishing careers to raise babies. Yes gender discrimination exists. In some countries and cultures more than others.

However I find today's 'modern' women are increasingly hiding under the veil of feminism.

If a women decides to quit her job to look after children, it's considered normal, noble even. Catch a man do that, and eye brows are raised and quick assumptions are reached "He probably lost his job. Poor guy has no choice. Why else would he swap diapers for dollars?"

A woman coming home at midnight after an office party is exercising her choice. A man doing so is being a prick for ignoring his family.

After a long stressful day a work when a woman has to wash the dishes post dinner, we pity her. But then what about the housewife's or stay at home mums who insist that their husbands have to participate, equally if I may add, to all the household and children chores, despite being the breadwinners who put in 12 hour days at work? 

When a man painstakingly cooks dinner for his wife (even if it's Maggi 2-minute noodles) it's considered romantic. But when a women does the same she is judged as being a doormat.

Ladies kitty parties and 'tai tai' high teas are an acceptable lifestyle. And a man needs to cajole his wife and buy her presents to get a boys night out pass. 

Where is the equality in any of this? Feminism is not about putting men down. It's about being equal. So same rules apply. What's wrong for the gander is wrong for the goose too. 

If we women want the privilege of having a choice to do as we please, we have to bear the responsibility of those choices. 

I opted for a three day work week when my son was born. I was passed over for promotion. Twice. This is NOT discrimination. It's fair. Fair on the man who got the promotion as he was working his ass off, while I organized play dates. Yes it was my choice, but it came at a price that I am to some extent still paying for. My choice. My price. 

Wearing shorts  and singlets is as much my right as wearing a sari. Strangely in world we live in today I will be ridiculed for the latter and applauded for the former. 

A mother plays the baby card and is exempted from working weekend, while men pick up the slack. 

Women who choose to not have a baby are judged more by other women than by men. A 'career women' is berated for her choice. As is a stay at home mum. By women. Us women judge. One way or the other.

Stop. Take a breath. Menfolk are not against you. You are fighting you own inner battle. You want to make your choices emphatically, but don't want the burden of the consequences. 

I find many women conflicted nowadays. Simply because we have way too many choices. Ask yourself "What do I want?". And then make a plan to make it happen. Accept the good and the bad of the choice. Stand up and take responsibility for that choice. And remember your choices affect the ones around you. Making choices unequivocally is not asserting your feminism. It's purely being selfish. 

I would like to clarify that women referred to here are the educated, high social economic class, urban women. Women who have a tons of choices. The biggest one is being true to who they are inside. So if you want to quit your job to pursue your passion, talk to your husband, plan your finances and do it! And if you want to put your child in day care to focus on your career, don't play martyr-mum. And if you are lucky to be footloose and fancy free and capable of paying your own bills, then go ahead and do whatever the hell you wish. Because when you decide to share your life with someone, they become a part of your choices. Trick is finding someone who will stand by your choices. As you will stand by his (or hers).

Monday, March 23, 2015

An outsider looking in- An Expat’s tribute for Mr Lee Kuan Yew

Growing up in India in the 80s, Singapore to me was a shopping paradise. My cousin used to visit often and came back with the loveliest clothes, the prettiest accessories and an occasional TV. I constantly heard about the fabulous Orchard Road and the electronic haven that was High Street. I set foot in Singapore very many years later in 1998. My first time away from family and I was homesick. And how!

  • I used to live in an HDB. And I hated it! I hated common corridors, the unfathomable concept of elevators not stopping on every floor and the large kitchen-small bathroom layout. This was till I realized that Singapore had the least number of homeless people in the world. Almost every Singaporean had a roof over his head thanks to this public housing system
  • At that time I traveled from Yishun to CBD in the efficient and comfortable MRT and yet I lamented about the length of the commute. I thought Singapore should have ‘fast’ trains like the Mumbai local which helped cut down travel time by half compared to the normal train. Later someone explained to me that Singapore was an egalitarian society. Thus no area should receive priority over the other and hence the same train graces every station
  • I used to sorely missed my idli-dosa and was amazed that Little India housed some fantastic options
  • I was there when the beautiful red brick National Library building was torn down to make way for SMU. It was a place where I spent my early years in Singapore lost in my world of literature and books. I cried when it no longer existed. Until I related to Singapore’s vision of developing into an education hub
  • In my first work place, there were 15 people, with 12 different nationalities. Very few nations can boast of such a cosmopolitan culture
  • My first friends were Singaporeans- Chinese, Malay and a Eurasian. Plus a Brit expat. Perfect reflection of the Singaporean population :) They are still my dearest friends more than a decade later.


Over the years I have moved from a HDB to a condo. From heartland to expat playground and I have seen Singapore prosper and grow. Taking me along with it. I saw Marina Bay Sands being built in front of my eyes in a record time of less than five years. I attended an international soccer match at the Sports Hub last Oct when a few years ago it was merely rubble. I witnessed the construction of both these marvels from my balcony and the speed of development never ceased to amaze me.

My son adores Bombay, but only considers Singapore home. As a single mum, I appreciate the conveniences, safety and security that Singapore offers even more than most people.

Over the last 16 years I have seen the Singapore skyline evolve. I am now connected to even more places thanks to the Circle Line and am awaiting the completion of the Downtown line eagerly. I observed the birth of Terminal 3 and kept track of the accolades that Changi airport received year after year. It is undoubtedly world's best! I have seen changes, growth and progress at a pace that would make one’s head spin. 

I watched myself flourish professionally thanks to the opportunities this island state offered.  And advance financially due to its sound policies. Where I am today and what I have achieved, I owe a great deal to Singapore and hence to Mr Lee Kuan Yew.

I have you to thank Mr Lee Kuan Yew for having the vision and building a country like none other. I owe you my independence Sir. My gratitude is beyond words. I wish from your resting place you see Singapore continue to thrive and succeed. The way I have seen it for last 16 years.

RIP. Your job here is done and now it’s up to mere mortals like us to keep up your good work and your unfailing spirit. 


Thank you Sir.


Sunday, January 11, 2015

A to Z of Happiness


Accept. Not Amass.

Beauty. Not Botox.

Clever. Not Cunning.

Dream. Not Desire.

Equilibrium. Not Excitement.

Fabulous. Not Filmy.

Glib. Not Glum.

Home. Not House.

Intuition. Not Imitation.

Joyful. Not Jealous. 

Knowledge. Not Know-it-all.

Love. Not Label.

Mother. Not Monitor. 

Now. Not Nay.

Original. Not Off-the-shelf.

People. Not Projects.

Quest. Not Quit.

Rest. Not Rust.

Sweet. Not Sappy.

Traveler. Not Tourist.

Understand. Not Usurp. 

Vivacity. Not Vanity.

Will. Not Whim.

XOXO. Not Xanax.

Young. Not Youth.

Zen. Not Zzzzzzz.

Written while stuck in traffic jam from Colaba to Lower Parel. Inspiration can truly strike anywhere :)

8 Jan 2015

Friday, January 2, 2015

Wishing for less this New Year

Humans are inherently greedy. We constantly desire for more. Bigger house, better job, more money, expansive hand bags, more elaborate parties, fancier vacations and the list just goes on.

2014 has been a year full of turmoil. Planes have mysteriously disappeared, terrorists have brutally killed innocent children, religious wars have been rampant with unfortunately no end in sight. Personally I have witnessed many shocking and sad occurrences. There has been plenty of good too, which makes you remember to always count your blessings.

So for 2015 I pray for less

Less desires. More acceptance

Less stress. More letting go.

Less acquaintances. More friendships.

Less annoyances. More understanding.

Less asking. More giving.

Less calories. More nutrition.

Less highs. More equanimity.

Less cravings. More peace.

Less parties. More conversations. 

Less acquisition. More enjoyment.

Less chasing. More stability.

Less attachment. More love. 

Less me. More you.

I hope in 2015 I can declutter my mind and heart and be content with less. Here's wishing
.you the same. Because when it comes to being happy, less is more

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Farewell to a kindred spirit

I have always believed that people’s lives converge for a reason. Sometimes it’s an obvious one, however many times the ‘AHA’ moment comes years later. Then it suddenly dawns upon you “So that is the reason why the Universe made our paths cross!”

I have known Sheetal for nearly 20 years of which majority of the time, rather unfortunately, we were not in touch. I moved out of India within the first few years of knowing her and during my trips back over the years, we met on some occasions, but not all.

And then the link snapped. Sheetal was my ‘friend my marriage’ i.e. she was my husband’s childhood friend. When my marriage came to an end, I felt it would be hypocritical to keep my friends by marriage. I felt it was unfair to put them on a spot or make them feel compelled to pick a side. So I withdrew. And I would've stayed that way had it not been for another lovely person, Namrata, who took it upon herself to reconnect. When she was in Singapore a few months ago, she called me. So simple. It’s almost inexcusable that none of us did it sooner.

We met. We spoke. We shared our life stories. It was like no time had passed. Let alone over five years. It was so amazing! Namrata told me that Sheetal and the other friends still thought of me but were afraid that I wanted nothing to do with them. I was shocked! I explained how I thought that they would not have wanted to stay in touch with me. Oh the time lost in this fruitless misconception!

Namrata reintroduced me to Sheetal and over the last few months we were in touch very regularly. Thanks to Facebook and WhatsApp we were aware of the various moments in each other’s lives. I saw her kid’s photos. She commented on my son’s pictures. I observed the things that annoyed her. She noticed when I was disappointed. We discovered things we had in common that we had not known before. Like our love for writing and books. Our challenges as single mums bought us closer. Our desire to breakthrough and pen new chapters of our life stories was apparent. Except Sheetal will not have a chance to complete her story. It has been halted midway leaving us all bereft and utterly devastated.

We had decided to meet when I would be in Bombay in December and were debating whether it should be over coffee, lunch or perhaps a girl’s night out. I remember saying “I really don’t care. I just can’t wait to see you all!” And now I won’t. The truth knocked me in the stomach so violently that I physically felt sick.

My last contact with Sheetal was earlier this week when she messaged me on my birthday. I received over a hundred wishes that day. However I was obsessing about that one who forgot. In that state of mind, I replied to Sheetal’s message with a banal thank you. I feel so ashamed and distraught that I missed my last chance of having a conversation with her! And now I never can!

Sheetal was a kindred spirit whose smile enthralled all who came in her present. Her eyes always shined, almost luminous and one could not help but feel joy when around her.

None of us have seen heaven, but I fervently hope (for my sake, as much as yours) that it looks like this. 


You had once mentioned that you wanted to visit this book store. I wish you are there now, in spirit, if not in flesh.

A rustling leaf, a silent breeze,
A humming bird, a bumble bee,
Will remind me that you are around

A river bend, a tidal wave,
A mountain peak, a musty cave
Will remind me that obstacles must be faced

A pink rose, a white veil
Blushing cheeks, a fairy tale
Will remind me that love exists

A throaty laugh, sweet sounding chimes
A whistling tune, a forgotten rhyme
Will remind me that you can hear us

A temple bell, a silent prayer
An unspoken blessing, an angel somewhere
Will remind me that life is fragile

You will be the inspiration
To count my blessings daily
You will be my reason
To live my life fully
Rest in peace my dearest
You will be missed… and you cannot even imagine how much.

Friday, November 7, 2014

Romantic Legends vs. Me



I am no Desdemona
To your Othello
I am no Chandramukhi
To the Devdas in you
I surely can't be a Juliet
As life is too precious to me

I am not your Drupadi
Steeped in anger and revenge
I have never been a Sita
Untouched, pious, forgiving

I am not a Jenny
And neither you an Oliver Barrett IV
I can so be a Carrie
But you are no Mr. Big
I am such a Lizzie Bennet
But who can possibly live up to Mr. Darcy?

May be I am a Shakuntala? 
Lost  and forgotten in time
Or perhaps a Radha? 
Loved but never belonged

I am most certainly no Simran
Coz there are simply no Rajs
And am no Mumtaz
Who will get very own Taj

I am not a Rose
Who has to watch Jack die
I want to so be an Allie
But Noahs only reside in Notebooks

I am merely an ordinary girl
With extraordinary powers
Because I still believe
You are out there...
Searching...
For the Scarlett
To your Rhett...
And you do give a damn

Monday, November 3, 2014

Turning 40

Now that I am turning 40 I should learn…

That if you have given it a fair shot with no result, it’s time to give it the boot
That in raising kids you oscillate between complete insanity and boundless love
That all that glitters, in all probability, belongs to someone else
That if he is handsome, charming and funny…he has removed his wedding ring
Or is a nut job

That just when you think someone is normal, they will turn around and gobsmack you...and  how
That eating cake can never be guilt-free, even if its birthday cake
That under no circumstances can you drink a Jacob’s Creek
That everyone has some eccentricities
And when you accept those in others as they accept in you…it’s called friendship
That there are certain types of people you will never relate to

That long walks on the beach actually work
And long naps are a luxury that you must indulge in
That being politically correct is totally overrated
That only way to love is simply unconditionally
And expecting love in return is like wishing the horse were a unicorn
That you can’t fix people, no matter how much you try
And others can’t fill your emptiness, no matter how much they desire

That you can only change yourself and its bloody hard work
That living beyond yourself is needed for yourself
That family and food are the cornerstones of happiness
And when friends are added in the mix, the picture is complete

That surrendering is winning and fighting is…well…losing
That accepting things as they are is the only way to go
And your life will only be as good as you think it is

That 40 is just another number...and if I put my mind to it…I might even believe it