Friday, September 23, 2011

More things to get angry about

These girls are fighting for the right to use their university library. They have been banned from entering it for the very logical reason that they are girls. Obviously.

Monday, September 19, 2011

our bed

And so I have inherited my grandmother's bed. It is the bed where she spent her last night alive. It is the bed she used for the last 20 years of her life. And I have been sleeping on it for the past 20 nights.

What is it like to sleep on a dead person's bed?

Apart from feeling oddly cool about sleeping on a dead person's bed and being secretly (and eternally) grateful that no one in the house has objected to me deciding to use her bed, the experience is deeply emotional. 

I will always remember my first night on her bed. It was the first night I that slept peacefully after her death. Although I have no way of confirming it, I really want to believe she was with me that night.

Some nights are filled with a lonliness and pain. These are the nights that I remember how in winters, I used to come  to spread her shawl over her while she lay in this bed and tuck a pillow underneath her feet before she slept. This was in the last few years of her life, when she became too weak to do these things for herself.  I also remember all the times when I used to make haldi milk at nights and come and sit beside her on this bed while she drank her glass and I drank mine. This was last winter.

Other nights I just lie quietly and think about her and wonder where she is and what she is up to and I ask her silently if she would come and visit me in my dreams. She has obliged me once.

And there are still some other nights where nothing really happens, I just set my alarm for the morning and fall asleep.

And then, of course, there was the night of ecstacy, when I found a couple of strands of her hair hedged between the mattress and the bedstead.


Thursday, September 15, 2011

now even i have written an open letter

Dear Madrasans, Madrasis, Punjabans and Punjabis,

this, and this , may I just say that my tender young mind is overwhelmed?
Not to mention that the
raging genetic code that runs inside me is going crazy. Like Britney Spears Crazy. (The song, not her personality).

I say aaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrghhhhhhhhhh. I say owwwwwwwwwwwwwwww. I say, OMG WHICH SIDE SHALL I SUPPORT????? Because, in all earnest, I say, a truly well mixed nuanced cocktail flavoured bloodgroup like my humble minority has no place amongst the latest debate to take the internet by storm.

BOO HOO!!!!!!  

And so I present to you the ULTIMATE SOLUTION: On offer is an unlimited period of FRANDSHIP with me. I will help you break every single stereotype you have ever held about idlis and tandoori chicken and all food groups in between.

And also. An Indian street secret: FRANDSHIP means anything but FRIENDSHIP.

The apocalypse is here. Follow me.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

"It's bad manners to burp loudly. It's true. You can ask Google - "Is it bad manners to burp loudly?"
-- My aunt, to me

Saturday, September 03, 2011


Today I discovered that the metro I take everyday to work passes over the cremation ground where we cremated my grandmother. Now I shall spend every ride looking out of the windows, trying very hard to find that exact spot where she burnt.