The Drama Queen

Physical fitness and exercise have always been a rage. We generally see a spike in this activity around the New Year time. There is no parking space near the gyms and yoga classes, for the first week at least. The running tracks are crowded like flea markets. People are hustling and bustling like there is no tomorrow. This is all, thanks to the outrageous New Year resolutions made by three quarters of the world population. They hog throughout the year and keep postponing getting back into shape till the next year! To overcome this rush and for the sanctity of the Runners’ Association, some kind people keep organising runs throughout the year. So, any weekend you feel the urge to get going, pull up your socks, tighten your shoe laces and get going, literally. There is no dearth of the number of races that one can sign up for. There are several support groups, to promote this noble cause. Thanks to the social media, it feels like every third person is running. And running and r...

Well, as couples, or parents-to-be or parents, we have always gone through this dilemma.... how many children are ‘good enough’, if at all we are planning to have any. You are always under the pressure of family and extended family and neighbour’s family and family of family for when are you going to have the baby. Sometimes, it is almost to the extent that it is the only purpose of their lives. I am sure we have always seen parents either judging others or have been judged themselves for having the number of children that they have. Having none will get you tagged of not being the maternal types; which is considered to be the sole reason for a woman’s existence by some. One offspring is too less, even though it is helping in the cause of controlling the world population. Two is just right, even though ‘it is not really required’. Anything beyond that would have been welcome in the by-gone era but is totally frowned upon in today’s world. Basically, you will be tagged.... no ma...

Having just come back from the ‘Mother of all Religious Visits’.... a dip in the mighty Ganges... I am feeling all pious and invincible, myself. I was told that all my ‘sins’ have been washed away. My interpretation: I am ready for a new stock in my new pot of sins!  I am totally sentimental when it comes to being religious and all. Religious, yet flexible. The customs whose logic I find irrelevant in today’s world and have the sanity to not pass on to my kids, I try to peacefully and respectfully discard them. At the same time, I am not judging someone who is still blindly following the age-old superstitious traditions. My reasoning says that the other person is yet to be enlightened. I also have the utmost respect for all the religions with ‘Live, and let live.’ being my ultimate mantra for life. I have been to various Churches and Gurudwaras and Dargahs and Jain and Buddhist temples, all in a hope to find calm. It is present everywhere. It is present inside you. We just ...

It had been a year that I had touched my car. I was unable to bring myself to drive it. My children had started relying solely on their dad, over the weekends, to replenish their necessities and stuff. I would take a cab to wherever I wanted to go or hitch a ride with a friend. Hubby was clueless as to why I was acting weird... well, so was I! I just didn’t feel like it. I had ‘imaginary’ thoughts of me dashing into somebody on the road, with my children in the car.  This was the first sign that I ignored.  Next came the loss of sleep. This was rampant whenever hubby would travel; but it became more pronounced as I didn’t feel sleepy during the day, also. The worst part was... it became chronic even when the husband was around. I wouldn’t want to disturb others, while sleeping, so I would just continue to toss and turn in the bed. Dark circles became an integral part of me.  There were days when I just didn’t feel like getting out of the house to join my bel...

Doesn’t this word bring out our inner child, the dreamy eyes and that smile on our faces?! The steal. The victory. The accomplishment. The treasure that we don’t need at a price we can’t resist! You getting the drift, eh? Well, shopping bargains have been overdone. I was recently a witness to another kind of bargain. The bargain between the unsuspecting tourists and the know-it-all tourist guides. The bargain of life and death. The bargain of travelling all the way to ‘the Heaven on Earth’ and the desire to see all its unique offerings. The sly tourists who first avoid the guides and claim that they don’t want to see the ‘famous points’ with the aim of getting the top bargains vs the regulars-to-this-behaviour guides with their gang of wing men.... I wonder who actually wins it! This week, I had the wonderful opportunity of visiting Kashmir with my family. Wonderful because I got to take a break from playing Mom. Nope... make that merely a change of location. Opportunity beca...

This is definitely more important than ‘Made In India’. At the onset, excuse me for the M-word. To be honest, may be ‘Lifeline’ would be a more appropriate title for them. I would rather call them Domestic Help (DH, for future reference). And you bet, it is the DH that we are all eternally grateful for. So what do we look for, in an ideal DH? Well, the demands have certainly gone up. Earlier it used to be less pay, less holidays and coming on time, more or less. But with the spending power of a working couple growing left, right and centre, their demands have also gone up exponentially, as well. To begin with, the DH should be hygienic and presentable. The first bell of the day and a shabby, doing-a-favour-on-you look vs a smart and eager person, keen-on-helping-you with your misery of dirty dishes and messy floors, dressed in a crisp attire... no prizes for guessing whom we all would prefer. The almost immediate pre-requisite would be to know the local language while...

The Mystery of the Missing Diamonds “Yippee!” shouted Amar. “This is awesome!” exclaimed Arjun. Amar and his younger brother, Arjun, were at their uncle’s luxurious five-star resort during their summer vacations. They were skiing in the fake snow room. “Amar! Arjun!” Their uncle was calling them for lunch. “Lunch time! Finally! I am famished!” Arjun exclaimed. The two brothers raced to the magnificent dining hall. One look at their dining table made their mouths water. Inviting mounds of mashed potatoes, roast chicken, colourful gravies, an upside down pineapple cake, salads topped with delicious dressing, a huge platter of assorted cheese and exotic fruits and slabs of chocolate ice-cream… they were spellbound.   As the two brothers were stuffing their mouths, a wealthy-looking man entered the room and started screaming hysterically, “MY SOCKS! MY SOCKS ARE MISSING!” The absurdity of this statement made the two brothers laugh. The man glared at them and started complai...