Category Archives: Worries and rants

The Day After

It is the next day.
Pink pamphlets torn,
Full price mani-pedi &
Fewer floral messages
On my phone.

Their job has been done,
Their purpose served.
What more do you want –
A pat on the back or
For me to lower my gun?

Stop whining and playing your card,
Waving your flags fighting for a cause.
You have it easy at every turn on the way-
Climbing the ladder,
Sleeping your way.

Go back into the box I drew for you
Say the words I spoke for you
Feel the feelings I told you to feel
Give me your body,
To choose for you.

You are afterall defined by me
A wife, sister or daughter
Or a slut if you are free.
Come on my dear, don’t ask for more
You have a whole fucking day that I don’t.

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The hurt of being a woman and seeing the results of the U.S elections

I spent an entire day yesterday in sadness and quite frankly bewilderment. I was torn between thinking about writing this and wondering if it is my place to do so – considering I am an Indian citizen, an able-bodied, cisgender, Hindu, upper-caste, heterosexual woman in a same-race relationship where both of us are college educated, employed and come from privilege in a country that is going through its own tumultuous growing pains.

I am writing this from the core of my identity as a woman because that is the part of me that feels most beaten and bruised right now. I am at a stage where I am yet to get to thinking about how we will explain this to children in schools or at home because quite frankly I do not think I understand it enough for me to be able to explain this to anyone else with that level of conviction or hope.

I am feeling a deep rooted sense of disgust by how this win has legitimized sexual assault. It makes my skin crawl to read Nigel Farage’s statement which mocks at the idea of Trump being a sexual predator when he says, “don’t touch her for goodness sake” when talking about meeting with Theresa May. It is NOT amusing to hear this when you are a part of a group that experiences microaggressions each day around touch, consent and space. I am not saying that all of this didn’t happen before this election but it has now become the new “normal” and that makes me sick. I am appalled by how “guy talk” is now an openly acceptable defense for conversations that actually could be construed as criminal offense. I am extremely worried for friends who may now need to think of getting an IUD before January 20th

As someone ensconced in their own bubble of beliefs and values, I take full responsibility for not connecting with the other side and being blindsided by the ideological divide that runs so deep. But I definitely do not shoulder responsibility for signing up for this – I was ready to have arguments about pantsuits, being “emotional”, how being a woman doesn’t excuse you for corruption, on why anyone should not be expected to smile more to be “likeable” and more such. I was not ready to go back redraw the basics tenets of decency.

To all those in India who are reading this and wondering why I am taking all of this so seriously considering I don’t live in the U.S or to those who take pride in us electing Indira Gandhi and therefore do not see this as our issue – I am equally disgusted and sickened when Mulayam Singh Yadav makes comments on how boys make mistakes (while referring to rape) or when I hear senior members of the police force talk about how if during rape fighting back is not an option, it is best to lie back and enjoy the experience. It is just as bad when you express a political opinion not aligned with the popular view and the trolls immediately threaten sexual violence or begin the diatribe with body shaming, slut shaming or any form of abuse that belittles who you are as a woman.

I am not one of those who looks blindly to the West in aspiration on issues of gender but it truly sucks to be a woman and see all of this play out across the world in far harsher degrees than what it ought to be in 2016.

Fuck breaking the glass ceiling – it is back to feeling grateful if your body, your voice, your intellect, your being is respected as human and not some second rate “creature” and if you can escape each day feeling unscathed or a little less dirty.

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More parents bother me than their kids do

Before I begin, let me state that I do not have kids yet and I disallow you to dismiss me off as a carefree, millennial with no responsibilities, tons of cash to spare and probably a frigid soul. I honestly do respect your decision to have children, I really do and I expect you to return the favour.

Now that we have that out of the way -let me share my two cents on this whole Indigo “child-free” zone fiasco.

Over the past few months, I have been irked multiple times about Indigo’s need to monetize every single seat, leaving only terrible middle seats on the rear end of the aircraft. I also think that this whole zone idea in a budget airline in India makes no sense considering there aren’t any physical barriers to block sounds and neither is there any distinguishing service (no, getting a dried out sandwich and a MinuteMaid doesn’t count). Lastly, I do think it is discriminatory if you are a parent, who is willing to pay and still doesn’t get seats with more leg room. If you have a toddler or an infant, you deserve to board first and get the necessary space to feed and rest with the child.

But there is a slightly different issue here – I have been seeing responses that talk about how adults aren’t any better and there is a litany of woes about mobile phone usage, manspreading, getting up from seats before the plane is done taxiing, misbehaving with women passengers and the crew,  leaving toilets unclean and what not. Yes, it is true and it is terrible but that still doesn’t make the behavior of many kids on flights any less awful.

Cross your heart and tell me that you really believe that ONLY kids who have earaches or any other physical need cry on flights. I have been on multiple flights where I have had my seat being kicked by a child constantly. When I look behind, I see the parent either completely disengaged or worse look at the child with eyes filled with pride and joy. I have had conversations with parents who think it is really cute when their kids pull my hair and I think otherwise. I have had moms who say “Beta, why is this aunty not smiling at you? Let’s make her smile! <insert strange baby talk and face touching> ”  I have seen kids mashing bread with water and then spreading it on the seat – this maybe a great kindergarten activity to build motor skills but it is disgusting when you are on a non-stop 12 hour flight. Once again, conversations with parents lead to shrugged shoulders, quick assertions on how “kids will be kids” and worse an argument about how they have paid equally for the flight and therefore anything goes.

You recall the never ending list of terrible things that adults do? Well yeah, when those very adults have kids and their kids behave like mini versions of their parents – being callous, discourteous and conceited, I have a problem with that. When I hear the idea of a kid-free zone, I get dreamy because I envision a zone where both those adults and their kids are not around when I am crammed in a wafer thin seat.

Also you cannot possibly believe that my existence centers around you and your child. So when I pull out a laptop and am furiously typing, it is not to show you up but to finish some work before a crazy deadline (Also side note: check gender bias when you rant about corporates and working people. It may not necessarily mean men or black suits).

Flights are hard for kids and I am happy to help with reading a book, figuring out a quiet game, walking the aisle or just holding a baby while the parent on the adjacent seat needs to use the restroom or eat. I have met amazing kids while travelling but I most often see them with parents or guardians who are considerate individuals themselves.

When space is so less, we are bound to get into each other’s nerves. Being less obnoxious whether you are a parent or not can help go a long way.

Would I pay Indigo more for a kid-free zone seat? Absolutely not! But would I pay to get away from obnoxious adults and their kids? Hell yeah! If I can afford it.

Being brave or not

When people ask me about what I have done till date, I give them a run down of my two and half years in corporate, two years as a teacher, two years as an entrepreneur in the non-profit space, one year again in corporate (well, almost) and now back to non-profit in education. Typically, this is met with comments around how commendable it is that I have left the corporate world, a few nods around how it is the right cause and sometimes a chuckle followed by “that’s interesting”.
After my first corporate stint, when I decided to do the Teach For India Fellowship, many people told me I was really brave to quit and try something so different (also known as lowly paying). I had a bit of savings, I was supported emotionally by my family & friends and I was in the deep end of the pool. I didn’t quite get how I was being brave simply because I knew the state I was in, when I was leaving the corporate world, and to me it was an act of self-preservation and not bravery.
Almost two years into my startup, due to personal reasons I moved back into the corporate world. To me, coming back was a far braver decision than leaving it in the first place. I had found something I truly believed in and then given it up. During the eleven months I spent there, I noticed that looking down on the corporate life was the new cool thing to do. There were articles on YourStory, ScoopWhoop and the likes – where people proclaimed their suffocation and celebrated their new found independence in their garage office (in Indiranagar, of course!). Their efforts were lauded and well, of course their stories read like a novella.
But what struck me most was how little we speak of the bravery of those who stick it out. The stories of those who have commitments that they cannot forego – home loans, education loans, aging parents, school-going kids, medical bills or simply life. Well, of course when one writes about these things it reads like drudgery – but keeping things going and staying afloat is an act of bravery as well. Sometimes it is easier to escape by breaking the shackles than by staying on and doing a damn good job at it.
Today, I am back in the space that I believe in and want be a part of. But I am also deeply conscious that the decision to be able to leave the corporate world is a privileged one. It is a decision in many cases that is possible because at some point in time, someone else decided to put themselves on hold so that they can support YOU.  It is someone else doing the heavy lifting, while you find your feet. Something about this tells me that, the badge of bravery in this case needs to be pinned on the other person’s lapel.
Of course, it feels good to read stories where someone felt like they were stuck and then they become unstuck. Also, who doesn’t being liked called brave? So I get how these stories are a win for all. But I also think we are getting a bit too loose with the word “brave” here.
If you are reading this and wondering how hard you struggled to get to where you are, how you jumped without a safety net to be able follow your dreams and how I am diminishing all your life’s work by writing this, then you should know that you are probably very brave and definitely don’t need me to tell you that.
But the voice in our heads knows us best.  Once in a while, we need to look within and truly ask ourselves, is it brave to be able to do what we love best or is it brave to stick out doing something knowing you could be elsewhere. The surprising answer (or not) is that it is for you to figure out and not a badge slapped on by anyone other than you.
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Multiple versions of me

Being self-aware and having voices in your head is a bitch. Truly. I am having one of those days when the grass pretty much looks greener on everyone else’s lawn. I woke up disbelieving that it is already Friday and a complete sense of dissatisfaction over what I have accomplished this week. I was supposed to have figured out some gym where I could work out balancing my new life, I was supposed to have had a break through at work, I was supposed to have helped someone I know with job hunt, I am supposed to have stopped eating wheat to get healthier and I was supposed to have done 4 days’ worth of laundry, which I have parked in the other room so that it doesn’t prick my conscience when I wake up. Yet, it is Friday already and quite frankly other than alarm icons on my phone, which remind of these things not much has changed.

As I was sleepily sipping on my coffee this morning and going through other people’s lives on Facebook, the wave of disappointment was palpable. I saw someone standing on yacht with arms outstretched and I immediately wished two things – being on a yacht and having gorgeous arms. I waved to no one in particular in my living room and my arm jiggle only made the voice in my head sharper. I saw another someone post about their graduation from one of the universities I had gotten into and the voice in my head again nudged saying, “that could have been you”. Of course, there were two articles on MAGGI followed by the indignation around processed foods which reminded me how I should not be using any “fast-cooking” solutions but only healthy alternatives, which take a couple of hours of effort. The final post I saw was on  ISIS cutting out water supply in some parts of their territory and I felt like absolute scum on the face of this earth for being so shallow and wallowing in self-pity while the world is in shambles.

I have Facebook “friends” who are on the boards of non-profits, who are getting funding for their start-ups, who are moving to countries I someday hope to visit, who are experimenting with new styles of working out which I would kill to try, who have amazingly bronzed legs and who are vacationing with their parents and kids in tow. It is a struggle to remind myself that all these are not one person and surely not everyone is cracking it. When I swipe through my phone, all these amorphous facts just come together as one big ball of things I am currently not doing. The rational me knows that lives on Facebook is just a sliver of most of these people’s existence. One voice in my head mocks me for being so full myself while there are kids who need a better education but the other voice also constantly claws me for not doing enough on any front.

I am not a hotshot racing the corporate ladder, I am not a passionate entrepreneur who is doing her bit to fix the world, I am not an effortlessly chic woman who eats vegan bagels after a TRX class,  – I am just me who knows that there are many, many more just like me but is also vain enough to wish that I was more.

P.S: This wasn’t a post to make me feel better about myself by fishing for compliments. I just wanted to let the other ‘Me’s know that you are not alone.

When good news is never good enough

Hi Aunty

You met me yesterday at that family function in the temple. I am sure you remember me. I am that woman who is almost thirty and have been married for five years now. Yes, yes the same one who does not have children or any good news to give yet.

You pulled at my cheeks and reminded me that you last met me during my wedding reception (which was a close and intimate affair of over 1000 people across two cities). When my eyes showed hardly sign of recognition you poked my tummy and asked “any good news?”. I shied away pretending I had a call to take, when you told the other aunty “she has been married for five years”. The other aunty played her part and appropriately tutted in the right places. I heard you both. One of your friends pointed out how I look ‘healthy’ and then followed it by “how many months”. I didn’t realise you had it in you to make me feel fat as well as inadequate in the same breath. Thanks aunty, you are truly special.
I noticed how you asked my cousin brothers what they did but only asked me about why I hadn’t done anything yet. I saw the wheels in your head turn when I told I was travelling next week for work and would not be returning to Bangalore tomorrow. I saw your eyes glaze over when I explained what I do for a living and shared my good news  about my project getting the second round of funding.
I also saw how you passive aggressively asked my mom if she is a grandma yet. I felt terrible about putting her in a spot. Just as I was beating myself over this, I overhead you asking another woman with a toddler “so when is your next?”. When she laughed, you pushed harder saying “you cannot possibly be be thinking of raising her as an only child. She will be spoilt”.
That’s when I began to look harder. I saw so many instances during the day when none of us measured up in your eyes. You aren’t happy when we don’t have a child, you aren’t happy when we aren’t planning the second one, you are shocked when we say we are stay-at-home moms, you are appalled that we would leave our children with our parents to work long hours, you are unhappy that we don’t have jobs in the US, you feel cheated when we don’t come back from the US to meet you.
I am trying to remind myself that you mean well but you are making it really hard.
So let me just clarify for you once and for all – whether I am happily married or single, whether I am planning on having a baby or am struggling to manage my newborn, whether I am gainfully employed or not – when I have something to share with you, I will. It may not be as good a news as you may want to hear but well, c’est la vie.
In the meanwhile, a couple of quick pointers to save you from featuring in another blog post:
a) If you think someone is pregnant but you are not quite sure – save everyone the trouble and hold your tongue.
b) Quit poking tummies or randomly coping a feel will you? It is really annoying.

15 things you should never say to someone with a migraine

You had adequate warning and now I am spelling it out.

  1. I also am coming down with a slight headache
  2. You are so lucky you will never put on weight! With not being able to eat chocolates or cheese…
  3. You know my uncle’s cousin’s second wife used to have pounding headaches, turns out it was a brain tumour
  4. If you know when it is going to happen, why do you let it affect you?
  5. If you brightened up the room and let some sun in, you would feel better
  6. Did you not have a headache yesterday as well?
  7. What do you mean your arm hurts? I thought you had a headache
  8. Are you sure it is a migraine and not some PMS thing?
  9. Here, smell this new perfume
  10. Exercise some self control. Just don’t keep popping pills because you have a headache
  11. Start eating <insert trigger>. Your body will get used to it
  12. Cmon! This is nothing! If you cannot handle this pain how will you have a baby!
  13. I am not yelling. Why would you say that?
  14. Why are you wearing sunglasses?
  15. Wow! You could run a pharmacy out of your bag
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