It is always hard for a new mother, whose maternity leave is about to end and they have to go back to work. Not just them, it’s hard for every mother, who leaves behind their baby, to complete a chore or have to go out regularly for some purpose or another. It is never easy. The heart wails, not wanting such a situation to come. But then, they do come. This poem depicts the feelings of the mothers when they…
she’d not seen yellow butterflies take over the strawberry patch or the beds of nasturtiums, dog flowers, and phlox in the garden. she hadn’t run through yellow mustard fields under wide open skies, and felt the drag of wind in her hair, the rub and scratch of mustard greens on her arms and legs. she had never seen buttercups growing wild on a hillside. no, she’d never seen or felt any of that. she had lived all her life in…
six yards, five and a half metres, sometimes nine yards, of material. you have to wrap it around yourself. tuck here, tuck there, make the pleats, hold the pallu in place. it must be so difficult. one must sit still or move around in luxury cars or palanquins if one is in a saree. yet a saree has never demanded that. not really, not ever. in fact, if your palanquin is late, you can simply hitch up your saree a…
The latest offering on the Sab TV menu, the TV show, ‘Bakharwadi’ is truly a delicious delight. Like most shows on the channel, this one too is a light comedy with a pinch of drama added to a delectable course of laughter. But, Bakharwadi is perhaps the best among the recent bunch of new shows on Sab TV. Just like it’s namesake – Bakharwadi, a sweet and spicy snack, the show brings the extreme tastes together and produces a recipe…
“if you don’t want a child, just use nirodh!” said the ten year old. “nirodh!” there was awe and bursting curiosity in the nine year old’s voice as she struggled to keep her voice down, “what do you do with it not to have the baby?!” “shhhh! shh! mgpgmmph!” the other nine year old warned, index finger on his lips, he had just stuffed a whole nolen gurer kancha golla, that delightful sweet made of tender cottage cheese and new…
in the middle of may or was it june last year, when a good friend and his wife invited us to their daughter’s wedding in kerala in december, and i said, yes, would love to come, i was fully prepared for an enchanting time in the deep green southern state which has an even deeper affair with red. today, the only state in the country with a communist government. i would be passing through bengaluru. when i lived there, it…
She had hoped to take the bus to the school, but as usual, had allowed herself to get distracted by one last hallway discussion which truth be told could easily have been deferred. If one were to dig deeper, the true reason for the delay was the subconscious opposition to walking in the cold. For it was cold that morning. She was still distractedly typing on her phone, the elevator deciding to stop at every other floor, when she realized…
a wail rose up in the calm late afternoon air. the tail end of it came stalking into the room with the plump little girl, who threw herself on the bed, burying her face in the cushion lying on top of the carefully covered pillows. the wail turned into a smothered whimper now, though as far as the calm of the afternoon was concerned, both had the same effect on it. “oh ma, why’re you behaving like that? what’s the…
everything is complex, nothing is without its politics, yet when the voice you know so well does its familiar lilt and stretch and sound segues to the next hit song, or you seize and peruse the toy that’s just popped out of a toothpaste box, that joy, that spike of thrill, there’s no complication in it. no politics either. which is why perhaps the mind grabs it all and puts it away in a safe place, knowing one day, it’ll…