The abuse of power

 It has been an unsettling time for the state of Kerala, what with the sexual allegations and men getting away even with rape. Whether it is the politician Rahul Mamkoothil or the actor Dileep, one can’t help but wonder, what is it about the power that these men hold? Fame, money and power - a heady concoction if there ever was one. Maybe it is the knowledge that you can get away with anything, literally anything if you have the resources and the means to do things. And of course, connections that you make along the way. Goes a long way, I heard, the last time I checked the news at least. 

Yet, there seems to be no end in sight with women bearing the brunt of it in most cases. Justice delayed and denied for the survivors. Is it any surprise that most of us have lost faith in the judiciary system? It’s a time of deep unrest. Of pain. Of hopelessness. But that shouldn’t be enough to stop anyone on the hunt for the truth. For justice. 

Empuraan and its controversy

 

Disclaimer: This is not a movie review but simply an attempt to make sense of my thoughts and emotions after watching Empuraan.

The other day I came across a Facebook post where the person who posted it went on about how Empuraan is a movie that depicts violence for the sake of it; how it is like adding fuel to fire in the times we live in; how it is a movie that children should be refrained from watching (the movie is 16+ so I didn't understand the need for it) and so on. Anyway, you get the drift. The said post ended with a note saying how they're disappointed that such a movie is even allowing to be screened. 

Now, ever since I genuinely try to give people benefit of the doubt, I tried to think from their perspective. What is it about the movie that is said to have its base in the 2002 communal riots  that seem to have triggered the said post. Based on some comments, I felt it was it the Hindutva angle in the movie that has enraged them. 

Since realizing the futility of arguing with strangers on the internet (they won't change their opinions through a few comments,  nor will you) I have learned not to engage. However, this wasn't something that I wanted to keep quiet about; hence, the post here. I booked a ticket for the movie yesterday and went and watched it even though I hadn't wanted to initially. That is, Lucifer (the prequel) wasn't something I enjoyed watching in the theatre when it came out. But a friend told me that the politics in this one was something he liked and I knew I didn't want to miss it. 

Empuraan has been in the news because of the controversy surrounding it, namely how it has enraged the right-wing political parties; and how the director is facing wrath because of it, leading to the lead actor issuing a public apology. And not just that, how the movie is coming out after a re-censuring with around 17 cuts and a change of name of the main antagonist in it. I'm so glad I got to watch the original version and not the white washed one, which is supposed to be released in theatres from today. 

One of the most uncomfortable scenes for many to watch was the rape of a pregnant woman which has been inspired by the Bilkis Bano case, a case that many seem to have forgotten conveniently. If the scene is making you squirm in your seats, then what about the fate of many like her who have been fighting a losing battle? What about their losses? Out of sight, out of mind, as the saying goes. Now when uncomfortable truths stare you in the face, you have no choice but to face it. For that alone, I think the movie deserves applause. Even though even the makers seem to be bowing down to external pressure, I'm glad that such a movie has paved the way for discussions that need to happen. Especially now. More than ever. 

We live in turbulent times, where words are scrutinised and censored. Where creative liberty is taken away in the excuse of love for a nation or country.  History and facts are distorted. Events are seen in a different light. Many bow down, and few voice what needs to be said. Stories are born out of lived and studied experiences. Out of compassion and empathy. And they need to be told. Now, more than ever. 

As for me? Everything is political. Everything. 

Forgotten words

Hey you,

There are strangers we meet. Ones who pass us on the street, the ones you share a smile with, on the subway or a tram. Then, there was you. 

All of you. Haunted eyes, sad smile. Something about you made me want to reach out but I didn’t. How could I? It would have come across as creepy! But you know the feeling when you’re in the midst of everything and you look for an anchor? To ground you? That was what it felt like. For me. 

Here we were, two strangers drifting through life, meeting each other by chance. Our lonely tracks intersecting. Memories made over coffee and karaoke. In the jungle of skyscrapers, you became home. 

I don’t know if I will ever see you again. But I carry these memories back with me, where I go. 

Love, 

Me

Inspired by - Lost in translation 

Book review - One of the good guys by Araminta Hall

 

About the book (from Goodreads): 

If most men claim to be good, why are most women still afraid to walk home alone at night?

Desperate to escape the ghosts of his failed marriage, Cole upends his life. He leaves London behind for a remote stretch of coast, relishing the respite from the noise, drama, and relentless careerism that curdled his relationship and mental health. Leonora has made the same move for similar reasons. She’s living a short walk from Cole’s seaside cottage, preparing for her latest art exhibition. Although Cole still can’t figure out what went wrong with his marriage, and Leonora is having trouble acclimating to the hostile landscape, the pair forges a connection on the eroding bluff they call home.

Then two young female activists raising awareness about gendered violence disappear while passing through. Cole and Leonora suddenly find themselves in the middle of a police investigation--and the resulting media firestorm when the world learns of what happened. And as the tension escalates alongside the search for the missing women, they quickly realize that they don’t know each other that well after all.

My take: 

I have been a fan of the author ever since I read Our kind of cruelty. I love how she weaves tales of desire and obsession with a slice of darkness. Her latest, One of the good guys didn't disappoint. I don't want to talk too much about the story and spoil the experience for you; yes, reading this book is an experience, a good one at that. It sure made me think and the feminist in me was happy that such stories are being told. It inspired me to actually sit and string together a few sentences here and that's saying something, considering that the last post of mine was more than 4 years ago! 

The book makes me want to start penning stories again. The twisty kind. So, so glad I picked this one up from my last library visit. Yes, I have started visiting libraries again. The only kind of commitment that I can spare right now. I digress. But pick up the book, you won't be disappointed. The last few pages gave me such a heady euphoria. I'm still riding that high. 

My rating: 4 stars 

Mom shaming is a thing with two horns and a tail

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Ever since I became a Mom I have been judged for my choices. Not that the judging hasn't happened earlier, but I kept my mouth firmly shut rather than explain my choices out loud to people who thought it was fine to poke their noses in my personal stuff and had no idea what the term boundaries meant. Now I do realize that Mom shaming is a thing. Yeah, mothers are judged for their choices. All the time.

Going back to work so soon after the baby is born? How could you be so cruel?

Oh, you are a stay-at-home Mom? Don't you feel bad for not earning an income than slog around all day in your pajamas watching your kids? Is this really the kind of example you want to be setting your kids?

Bottle feeding? Why would you do that! Formula is the devil's food. No loving mother should subject her kids to anything that comes from other than her own breast. 

Still breast feeding? When do you plan to stop? Is it really necessary to take out your breast as soon as your child cries? Why don't you try pacifying him/her?

I mean, really? Don't even get me started on the questions that have come my way. I can go on forever. How a mother brings up her kids is her own choice! There is no need to be nosy or overtly curious. If she chose to be a mom, then she most certainly knows what her baby wants or needs. And she definitely needs no judging from others in addition to the mammoth task of bringing up her children.

I thought the questions would stop once the babies turn into toddlers. But hell no, if anything they seemed to have gotten more and more personal and even outright rage as to how dare I allow my kid to throw a tantrum in public! 

We all have our own ways of parenting. What works for me may not work for someone else. Just like each kid is unique in his or her own way, there is no one size fits all formula that work. There is no right or wrong way. In my case, I let my kids get it out before I can actually get them to calm down. My method of parenting is trial and error. I make mistakes. I watch, I learn, I grow. And if that makes me a bad mom, so be it.

But the sad thing is that a lot of the judging comes from other women who are most often mothers themselves. We all know that underneath the polished facade, there is a mother who's waiting to crack. Who binges on chocolate when her kids are asleep and let's face it, who feels guilty for yelling at her kids while at home. But if you have it all under control, if your kids are tiny angels, good for you. That person is unfortunately not me. 

There is no such thing as a perfect mother! One who feeds her kids organic food, never loses her temper when the said kids refuse to eat it and still has not a hair out of place and never, ever loses her cool. The day you can show me a perfect mother is the day I can show you an unicorn, trust me on this. We all have our good days and not so good days when we exist on cups of coffee and couple of hours of sleep, if you're lucky, that is. 

Instead of judging, how about trying to understand what the other mothers may or may not be going through? She may be having a child who's not like yours or she may be struggling with her own issues or maybe she's just having a bad day. You don't have to help but at least keep your opinions to yourself instead of going over and offer unsolicited advice when not asked. Because, if she wants help, she will ask. Until then, quit with the mom shaming. Please. 

In the search for Love

Sometime last year I happened to read an Unsuitable boy, the autobiography by Karan Johar. It was as entertaining as the man's movies. Karan has written about his movie background and how he came into Bollywood, about how he was often ridiculed as a child and of how it didn't stop him from being the person he is today. There have been people who loved the book and some who didn't but I for one, did enjoy the book to a great extent, especially the frankness with which he writes. 

Though I'm not a huge fan of his movies, I think we can all agree that he makes a good job of keeping the audience entertained. He brings home all the bling. I haven't watched his  show Koffee with Karan but when his newly launched show on Netflix came up, I thought to give it a watch. 

In Karan's own words, he's the nosy aunty we meet at weddings who wants to know everything happening in your life. In this show, he picks and chooses six singletons and helps them in their quest for love. All the six people come with their own baggage and insecurities and with the help of some of his celebrity friends and the expert help of a fashion designer and a hair and makeup artist, Karan manages to make them be the 'best version of themselves'. 

The show, just like his movies has a bit of everything from drama to disasters to finally, romance. So if you are a fan of him, then the show is a must watch. But even if you aren't, give it a go if you have that romantic bone in your body. Because the show will keep you engaged throughout and there are some endearing moments that I personally liked in some of the episodes. If you do decide to watch it, do let me know your thoughts. 

After a break

The past couple of years have been crazy for me. Even when I thought I would make the time to write, I simply couldn’t do it. 2019 has been a good year to me. I managed to get Gouri published (finally!), thanks to a very persistent friend :) It is available as an ebook on kindle on Amazon in case you want to read it. 

Motherhood has been keeping me on my toes and writing took a back seat. I did, however, manage to read quite a few good books, reviews of which I shall try to post here. I know the blog has been long neglected and this time, hopefully, I can show it some more love. It has seen me through some of the toughest days of my life and most importantly, it’s home. So, that’s about me. Till next time! 

The year that was 2017

2017 has been quite the year for me. Yes, I have been MIA here and on many other platforms due to a long list of personal reasons. The first of which is motherhood :) I have been blessed with two twin tornadoes, my tinies - a baby boy and a baby girl :) :) They are almost one and a half now and my hands have been full all this while. 

This post is long pending and I owe it to you, dear reader and the blog that has been home all this while, as to where I was. I shall write more frequently as this is something that has been missed greatly. Because this is who I am. So, if you are making the time to read, let me just say thank you. It means a lot. 

Almost two years of not writing or blogging and I'm kind of skeptical if I still have my writing mojo with me. I still hope I do. I'm back for good and there shall be more stories from my end. So, till next time...

A Gift of Love - IGP.com

Who doesn't love receiving gifts? Be it on special occasions like your birthday, anniversary, Christmas or New Year, a gift is sure to put a smile on not just the receiver's face but the giver's as well. And the best thing about gifts is that you need not even wait for an occasion to give it. I have always loved the surprise element and gifts that arrive impromptu on my door step definitely tops my list.

When I came across Indian Gifts Portal, one of India's largest online gifts store, I was curious. Ordering a gift online without the hassle of a normal shopping experience, it offers a wide variety of gifts right from cakes, flowers, jewelry, electronic items etc. They also offer personalized gifts, a little something extra to make that special person, feel extra special. Why not surprise your Mom, Dad or friend? Do check them out for more gifting options. The prices are reasonable and most offer free shipping. There is something to be found for everyone, for all ages and occasions.  

They also ship internationally (USA, UK, Australia, Canada etc) and even have same day delivery network to over 300 cities in India. Forgot a loved one's birthday? Fret not, browse through the innumerable gift ideas available on their website and you are bound to come across something that will make them feel happy. There are also midnight delivery gifts which include an immense selection of cakes and beautiful flowers, leaving you spoilt for choice. 

Here is a picture of the butterscotch cake that I ordered via their website. It was delivered on the date as I requested. The cake was fresh, rich and moist, a gift from me to me :) Brownie points for the sheer decadence. Surely, one can indulge oneself! Another point worth mentioning is the customer service which is fast and excellent, helping you get through any glitches smoothly, should you face any. IGP is a website that I wouldn't hesitate to recommend; my experience with them has been a fulfilling one. Do let me know about your experience if you decide to shop with them.

I want to be...

...the froth of cream on your upper lip as you take that first sip of coffee.
...the tiny scar hidden behind your watch on the inside of your left hand.
...the mist from your breath that clouds the window, deep with longing.
...the first whiff of petrichor you inhale as it rains.
...the warmth of your faded blanket on your ice cold toes.
...the well thumbed page of your favorite book of poetry.
...the words that you bleed on to a page, black against white.
...the wind whipping against your face on a hill top.
...all this and so much more.

I want to be the love you deserve. Just let me.

Winter Musings

The past couple of days I woke up to a beautiful sight. Mist covered greenery through my window. Definitely one of the perks of staying in a flat are the gorgeous views that greet you from your balcony or windows, if you're lucky. Like the most of us, I'm guilty of reaching for the mobile even before opening my eyes. Instead of doing that, I tried listening to the   sounds from around as I woke up today morning. As cliched as it may sound, the chirping of birds is one of the best sounds to wake up to. 

The year is coming to an end with just a month to go. It's raining outside as I write this. December couldn't have started off on a better note. Being a bibliophile, one of the first things that comes to my mind when I think of December is A Christmas Carol. Who can forget the infamous Scrooge and his ghosts created by Dickens? Another happy memory is singing Christmas carols along with friends in the school choir group. Hanging huge paper stars on your porch was a much awaited event too. 

Experiencing a white Christmas is one of the things on the bucket list. That's what happens as a result of watching too many Hollywood movies during Christmas time, I guess. It gives you a lot of winter goals :) So, tell me, what are your favorite Christmas memories? 

Thankful Thursday #1

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Dear You,

I'm a firm believer that we meet people for a reason. Sometimes, quite simply they are lessons. Other times, if you are lucky enough, you find companions for life. You are one such person for me. We started out as friends and now you are so much more. 

I'm not going to bore you with the details, but I'm grateful for the patience you have shown me over the years. For not telling me I told you so, for resisting that urge when I went ahead and made my own mistakes. For listening to me rant for hours, crying and tearing my hair out in the process. Mostly, I'm thankful that you are just there for me. 

You have made me see what I have missed, focusing too much on the grays and not enough on the colors. Making me realize that there are very few things that a long bath and a good sleep won't fix. For your unending optimism and positivity that shines through in your words, for the amazing person you are, thank you! I'm not going to tag you here and turn this into another cheesy post. You know who you are :)

All my love, 

Truth or Truth?

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Lies. More and more of it. Like a deck made of cards. Hiding the truth. Always. Do we lie to protect ourselves and the ones we love? Or is it because it's easier than telling the truth? The truth that you know is going to hurt? 

The drafts folder of your inbox, however, tells a different story. Unsent mail overflowing. The ones that refrained you from hitting that send button. Is it because some people simply do not deserve to know your truth? But there it nestles, among spam mail and meaningless correspondence. All that you have told but not been heard. 

You don't hit the send button. Not yet, a voice whispers in your head. But nor do you have the heart to delete it. Someday, maybe. Nobody said that speaking the truth would be easy. It's got to be done, all the same. Even if it means standing alone. 

Battlefield

Your mouth tastes like regret and pain

In your eyes I see the scars that escaped your body 

I see you flinch when I hold you 

Don't you know all I want is to soothe your pain 

But I can't protect you from the world 

Your battles are your own, just like mine 

Imperfectly, we will fit together someday, like a jigsaw 

Till then I wait for you

Patiently, impatiently...

Soaked Thoughts

Poetry was the language we conversed in 

Neruda jostled with Plath and Tagore 

Debates I secretly enjoyed

And frosty nights were imbued with 

The warmth of conversations and hot chocolate 

Goodbyes were never said 

All that was left was silence 

As steely as the ripping of pages

From a much cherished book 

Today I stand drenched in rain 

Waiting for a bus that would probably never come 

Drenched to the bone, chilled to my soul 

How much longer, I wonder 

Before I give up and go back home... 

Delusion

Am I not the longing that fills your nights 

The cigarette smoke that floats in the air? 

The half drunk glass of whisky laced with regret 

Am I not in the invisible lines traced on the counter 

By your fingertips 

Is it not my name that escapes your lips?

Or in the music notes that drift in the background 

The memories that play hide and seek

In the deepest corners of your mind 

Or the lone droplets on your rain spattered windows 

Was it ever about me? Was any of it?

Or maybe I'm simply being delusional...

Colors of Sunset

As a little girl, my favorite kind of sunset were the orange ones. A golden globe of sun sinking into the blue sea. 

When I grew up and stepped into my teens, I loved the pink tinted ones. It was the color of my blushing cheeks, he said. 

But now, the ones that I crave the most are the bright yellow ones with a splash of fiery red. It reminds me of your smile, the kind that melts my insides, oozing warmth into my heart that I inevitably end up comparing to the molten chocolate lava cake I had. The kind that always reminds me of home. 

If I could capture your love into a single frame, this would be it, in all the myriad colors of sunset times infinity, bursting into my life, painting the vivid hues onto my skin. Sometimes, I wish you would see yourself through my eyes, just to know how very special you are to me. And someday, we shall watch the colors of sunset blend in, together. 

P.S. Overwhelmed with the love you all have showered on me on my last post. Thank you! Means the world to me :)

How I almost stopped writing

Of late, I don't feel the urge to pick up my  pen like before. It makes me think, have I really lost it? The one thing that I love more than anything else in this world, the one thing that kept me going all these years? I don't know. I like to think not. I prefer to believe that writing has not abandoned me completely. How can something that's a part of you be taken away?

I took to writing when I was going through one of the lowest phases of my life. Writing healed me, it was my therapy and I made some life long friends along the way. Some of whom are still there with me and some had to leave or I had to let them go. But the one thing that gave me hope through all of the curveballs that life threw my way was writing. I lost myself in the world of words. 

Though there have been days I have gone without writing a word, when I always came back, it felt right like home. Even now, there's a little nudge inside me to keep writing, to keep creating. I haven't been a prompt blogger, I haven't been replying to comments and I'm extremely sorry for all that. But thanks so much for having faith in me. 

It's been a tough time for me and as things get better, I hope to write more. To do justice to all the stories in my head. It would be easier to give up, shut down this blog, an idea that I have been toying with. But that would simply make me a coward, to shut down my voice for fear of being judged. I want to write, to speak what's on my mind, just like I used to. And even if I don't succeed, I'm definitely not going to stop trying. I owe it to myself, to the words that I have been gifted with, to the people who had faith in me even when I didn't. It took me a while to realize it, life may change but somethings are forever...

Reunited

It starts with a kiss, the kind that takes your breath away. The deliciousness of the surprise, the taste of your lover's lips. Peppermint and spice. 

It's been far too long. I want to cry out but I don't. It dies inside my throat and I concentrate on relishing the little time that we have. 

So much to say, so much to catch up on.  Never before have we been parted so long. My first love, my savior. Welcome back, Words. I have missed you so. More than I can say, more than you will ever know...

P.S. Howdy? I missed you all! 

Hiraeth

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How are you?

Your message blinks on my mobile screen. How am I? That has been a question that I have been asking myself of late. Couple of years back, you wouldn't have felt the need to ask me that, you would know how I was just by looking into my eyes. You would have been by my side and not on the other side of my screen.

After all, we are were best friends. You know of all the times Hagrid made me cry, you grumbled when you had to tag along with me on my book shopping sprees. I was the first one you dissected your favorite movies with. 'Blue is the warmest color' kept us awake talking about relationships and love for hours. 

Butterscotch was your flavor, chocolate was mine. You always knew how rainy days made me write bad, sappy poems. But life as we know it, changes. You got married, moved across oceans and countries to start a new life while I stayed behind. Our friendship was uncomplicated, untainted by love. 

Today, your display picture shows you kissing your new born daughter. She is cute, your little one. I can see that she will grow up to be like you. And in another, I see you looking at her fondly, that look that was reserved only for me. It now belongs to someone else. 

The day you left, you took a part of me with you. Inside my chest is a scooped out hollow where you used to be. I have been seeing someone for the past few months, but I know that he will leave soon when he sees the blankness behind my eyes. Some things and people can never be replaced. Drifting apart was only natural. Was it your fault or mine? Or why don't we take the easier route and blame it on destiny? 

You will never know about the dark nights I spent battling my demons, that rainy nights scare the hell out of me now and that writing love poems is a thing of the past, just like you. I may never get to hear from you about those sleepless nights and the joy of that first smile. Likes on your vacation pictures, a comment once in a while on my status updates, that's what we have turned out to be. 

I'm fine, I reply. And you?