A Case for Men's Handbags

I have a strong feeling that ladies handbag is a conspiracy against womankind. It's a contraption to make women lug stuff around. To that end, it's been glamorised, projected as a must have accessory, and boy! so successfully that women pine to own not just one, but several and are ready to pay a bomb for them too. It has become a fashion statement and women love to carry them even at the risk of injuring their arms, necks and shoulders. 

I agree, it's based on need. Men have pockets. Women have bags. All fair there but as you get out of single life, men's pockets are still for themselves while women's bags become a free for all. All things that a man can't carry in his pocket, find a respite in a lady's bag. Picture a family outing. Dad is hands free whereas Mom is saddled with a bag. Let's have a look inside this bag. Hankies or tissues - in case of runny nose or smudged hands, a little snack, a bottle of water, coupons for shopping, house keys, shopping bags (if she is a green person like me), a pen, a little notebook, sanitiser, safety pin, an umbrella (depends on weather), charger, a band-aid and what not! Of course her wallet, phone and makeup also manage to find a place in the bag. 

During my student days, when our class went to an industrial trip, there was a guy who carried a camera around. He would always request a girl in the group to put his camera in her bag. To carry a backpack for a camera was just too much work and it was convenient to pop it inside the nearest available bag and who else would be carrying a bag but a lady in the group!

In Singapore, I spotted a guy holding his girlfriend's handbag. Over my few days' stay there, this was a recurring sight. I found it to be quite endearing. If men didn't carry their own bags, they were at least ready to give respite to their better halves. They did it with quite an aplomb too. But back home, if I ask my man to carry my handbag for a while, he would consider it no less than an act of hara-kiri. He would look around furtively lest he is caught red (bag)-handed by an acquaintance, then grudgingly carry it for the minimal possible time and dump it back on you like a sack of hot potatoes at the next opportune moment.

Why can't men carry man purses or satchels? Yeah, man bags are available in store shelves but are quite rare on men's shoulders. Ladies, why don't we encourage menfolk to carry their own bags? I am quite looking forward to the day when I am not carrying a bag and still all my stuff is accessible because my husband is carrying a man bag. So if you are looking for a gift for your beloved this Valentines, do consider a man bag for the man in your life. Trust me, you will thank me for it and so might he!

PS: I am not a manufacturer or retailer of man bags. This write-up is purely for the good of womankind.

This write-up was published in the middle section of Deccan Herald http://www.deccanherald.com/content/528942/a-case-mens-handbags.html

Do you have well wishers? Find out here....

In this whole wide world, you have only a few well wishers. Have you ever wondered who they are? It's not who remember your birthday year after year and wish you assiduously. It's not who Whatsapp you everyday or dutifully like all your posts on FB. It's not even the 2 am buddy who listens to you patiently while you cry your heart out.

To find out who your well-wishers are, you just have to attend a big fat Indian wedding or some such celebration. The best test conditions are offered before the wedding reception, when there is no beautician to help anyone or at least you because you are not highest in the hierarchy of guests. It's that occasion for which everyone has brought their finest clothes and jewellery. The functions, as is their dharma, are running late. There is a lot of pressure on everyone to get ready in time for baraat. You have to fight on various fronts. Tie that heavy sari, put on jewellery and makeup and do your hair. Now is the time for THE litmus test. 

When those pleats play rogue and refuse to fall in place, who is your dame in shining armour, who comes to your rescue armed with safety pins and we-can-conquer-it attitude? 
When that eyeliner gets uneven or smudged and your eyes look blacked-out rather than smoky, who comes to your aid with a cotton wad and cleanser? 
When that tika is flipping around like fish without water, who provides succor to it with body glue and a few hairpins? 
When you don't know if you should tie your hair or let them loose on humanity, who comes up with an honest advice and help? 
If someone does come to your rescue, then congratulations, my dear reader, you have found that rare species of a well-wisher. 

Moms generally fall under this category as do masis and sisters. But you never know for sure until they have passed this agnipareeksha. You can't blame them because the stakes are quite high. Everyone wants to look their best and mind you, they also have their own battles to fight. It takes sheer love for someone to make time and help them. In short, to dedicate time and energy for someone else to look good, needs pure, unadulterated love. Period.

It's not just about skills. There are many who are well versed at this stuff but wouldn't care to apply their expertise on you. On the other hand, there are a few who don't know the ABC of decking up. They still fumble along endearingly and hover around you for moral support. They even go out as emissaries scouting for help, looking to rope in more skilful people in your quest for beautification. You can't help loving them, those selfless souls, can you! Hug them tight and say a big thank you. I'm telling ya, you can trust them with your life, no kidding.

PS: Even if you don't use this as a test, just enjoy this theatre of fellow women getting decked for an occasion. It's one of the most entertaining reality shows you'll get to watch!

How would you like to die

Our revered Ex-President APJ Abdul Kalam passed away. His final moment came swiftly and while doing what he loved the most. Meeting young minds, interacting with them, bringing forth myriad issues concerning the nation and prodding the youth to find a solution.

Steve Irwin, the famous 'Crocodile Hunter' and wildlife expert from Australia, died not only doing what he loved but also by what he loved - wild creatures. He was barbed by a sting ray.

Phil Hughes, the Australian cricketer, died playing cricket.

Ayrton Senna, the Brazilian racing star, died on tracks while driving his car.

Maharaja Jaisingh of Jaipur died playing polo, the sport he was  sopassionate about.

So what would be I upto when I die? 

Weaving dreams? Making plans? Whatsapping? 

And what would I like to be doing when I die?

I think I know this. Maybe researching something on nature. 

Where would I like to die?
In the lap of nature, on a bed of moss. With a merry stream gurgling by and a meadow of luscious green grass in sight. With a few majestic mountains (snow capped) as a backdrop and the sun streaming in. I would like to die in morning. Yes, I love the sun. 

As to the date, I think I've an inkling of when I will die. 
I was born on 21st day of a month which was a full moon day. 
I was married on a 23rd, which again was a full moon day. 
I feel that I will die on the 25th day of a month - whichever happens to be a full moon day, thus completing janam, paran and maran (birth, marriage and death), the three most important events in one's life, all on consecutive odd full moon days. Morbid, eh? But beautifully symmetrical, wouldn't you agree!

Dear reader, do contemplate on how you might die. If you don't like what you see in your mind's eye, do less of that and more of how you would ideally like to say goodbye to this life. It's never too late or even too early to think about it!

Are we "settled"?

Now that we have made the move, we are invariably asked, "Are you settled?" It set me thinking. What does settling down really mean? It might mean various things to various people, but to me, settling down means that:

• I have found that cosy nook in the house where I can curl up to read a book or write down my musings
• I have found a similar haunt outdoors where I can soak in the sun and watch the world pass by or gaze at nature
• I have organized all cupboards and can locate stuff without opening all of them and rummaging through suitcases
• I know which brand of milk to buy or cheese to pick up without reading the ingredients (so as not to end up buying milk supplemented with fish oils!)
• I know green household cleaners and toiletries and know where to get them
• I know what to buy from which store
• I know where to drop my recyclable garbage
• I have replaced all the yellow lights in the house with white lights
• I  know all kindergarteners and their parents at the bus stop
• I know quarters from dimes and can confidently pay the exact change
• I know a park and can take little A there whenever I want
• I become a member of the library and start issuing books 
• I can rattle mine and D's phone numbers without batting an eyelid
• I have enough pots and pans and dishes so one person doesn't have to wait till another finishes her milk ;)
• I am associated with something - a cause, an organization, a job to keep me occupied

Most of the above is yet to be done, so you get the drift. But if having an apartment, a few pieces of furniture, a couple of friends and little A joining school, is enough to be considered as "settled" for someone so young in the country, yeah we are settled. For all practical purposes and let's take the middle path - we are settling down, one day at a time. Thanks for asking, dear family, friends and well-wishers! 

5 surprises in 7 days - Atlanta Journal

One cosy December evening found us in Atlanta. We had packed our house in Bangalore, bundled up a few belongings and lots of memories, said goodbye to our friends and family and boarded the flight to Frankfurt and then to Atlanta. The haul from Hartsfield–Jackson Atlanta International airport to our hotel in Buckhead gave us a taste of our first surprise.

1.Traffic - If horrible traffic was one of the reasons I moved from Bengaluru, I surely was in for a nasty surprise. Atlanta is notorious for its traffic jams. You can be stuck in crawling traffic for ages. The silver lining : Those Whitefield and Silk Board traffic jokes can be recycled and reused here, with a local tadka:)

2. Use of Disposables - Turning up for breakfast in the hotel the first morning, I was in for another unpleasant surprise. Breakfast was served in disposables. Each piece of cutlery was packed in plastic. At first I wondered if the use of disposables was because of the ongoing renovation at the hotel. But my husband, who had been in the same hotel at other occasions, told me this was the norm.

I shuddered at the waste created by the end of one breakfast. Mr. President, along with Paris and Copenhagen talks, why not start with a few simple things like making it mandatory to use reusables for meals at hotels? A lot of energy would be saved from production, transportation and recycling. 

3. Garbage segregation - The concept is not very popular here. I have stayed in a couple of hotels and been to a few friends' places and haven't seen separate bins for garbage. One big bin with all your trash, that's how the waste is collected. It's quite disheartening to see that. Time to start a green team here, I guess!

4. School pick-up time - 6:45 am. Are they kidding the kids? To add to this, the younger the kid, the earlier she has to leave for school. The older kids go later! The school transport, is however, free which is so convenient. 

5. Chilled drinks - No matter how cold it is, no matter if it's snowing, If it's a drink you want, it will be served chilled, if not with ice. With drinks, I mean water, juice, soft drinks and even milk.

Welcome to the land of abundance! Hope it becomes a land of responsible consumerism too.

Why grandparents aren't allowed to live in apartments

Recently, my parents talked about shifting to an apartment from their independent house and my heart missed a beat. It wasn’t just because of memories associated with the house. It was also for the fact that my 4 year old daughter would not be able to experience life in an independent house. We live in an apartment. My parents-in-law recently shifted from a house with large outdoors to an apartment.  There is something about an independent house which an apartment lacks. Maybe character? Where and how would my daughter experience the joys of an independent house? Besides, grandparents living in an apartment just doesn't sound right!!

When I was her age, I spent my summer vacations at my maternal grandparents’ sprawling house. It was a labyrynthine haveli with rooms that had exotic sounding names like ‘baradari’, ‘chaubara’, ‘tibari’, ‘jharokha’ and ‘darikhana’. A gala time awaited us from the moment we disembarked from rickshaw. Right from playing with cousins in different rooms and rooftops of the haveli to sleeping on terrace at night, I relished every moment of my stay. The haveli was said to be 150 years old and had fascinating stories about tunnels, ghosts, hidden treasures and bygone luxuries, which kept us suitably mystified through long summer days and provided grist to our gossip mill in nights. The house was so big that it was an ordeal in itself to find and collect us all during meal times.

Visits to my paternal grandparents’ place were a memorable experience of a different nature. It was a small town and the house was rustic where floors needed a cow dung and mud plaster every 15 days. A couple of rooms were dedicated to storing hay. In summers, cart loads of mangoes would land in those haystacks. Imagine eating bucketful of mangoes for breakfast and competing with cousins to throw mango pits the farthest. We kids had a fantastic time. Then there was a well in our compound and it fascinated me no end. I loved the sound of pail going splash when it hit the surface, the glug it made when tilted and the rush of water once it started filling. Pulling up the heavy bucket was hard work and a cousin was always around to give my little hands a helpful tug. The water was incredibly cool and refreshing. A couple of turtles called the well their home and it was an added bonus to spot them. Here again, the days were spent playing both indoor and outdoor games with cousins and neighbors or reading comics. The highlight of the trip for me, however, was a visit to our fields. Mango laden trees, a ride in a bullock cart, a shower at tube well, a picnic in picturesque fields, were all a treat to the senses.

My parents’ current house, though very pretty, is not that exotic and neither is it full of cousins for my daughter. In fact, she is the only kid around when she visits them. Large families gone, large houses are bound to follow suit. Why am I so hung up on a big, independent house then? Some contemplation led to enlightenment. A large, independent house is the last vestige of that joie de vivre which was a hallmark of joint families. I miss that feeling of being in a joint family, albeit for vacations and knowing that those times are not going to come back, I think I am just stuck on the symbolism!

This post was published in 'Right in the middle' section of Deccan Herald.
http://www.deccanherald.com/content/544004/grand-old-symbol.html

Look, Who Read My Blog!

In my last post, I was cribbing how nobody reads and comments on my blog posts and is it worth writing a blog when nobody does so. Little did I know that my blog was soon  to be read and judged by none other than Bachi Karkaria - a renowned journalist, author and a former editor of Times of India (TOI). Not just read, but also liked enough for me to be selected for Times Passion Creative Writing Trail.

The Times of India, which is a highly renowned newspaper in India, had come up with a very interesting concept. It had conceived of various Passion Trails - travel itineraries with a small group of like minded people, led by a trail architect who was an expert in that area.  The themes of these Trails ranged from tracking footsteps of snow leopards in Ladakh to sampling street food in a particular region, from temple photography in South India to culture and heritage trail in a certain state. 

First evening in Mumbai with Bachi, Shaili and fellow participants

I was  quite proud to be a part of the Creative Writing Trail because participants were selected from a host of applicants from all over India. From the moment I set my eyes on the ad for the Creative Writing Trail, I knew that I was meant to be a part of it - ki jaise isko banaya gaya hai mere liye! 

Since my little one had come in my life, I was notorious for not reading newspapers on time. I also didn't want to dispose off the newspapers without reading them first, so I had stacks of them stored everywhere. Whenever I found few precious minutes, I would pull a random paper and devour it! So the fact that I read the newspaper in the same year (not to say anything of the same month:) ) and saw this ad in time, was a big sign in itself. Then I remembered to visit the Passion Trails website and registered myself I time. I also managed to fill up  convincing answers to questions like "Who is your favorite author and book?" and "Why should you be selected to be a part of the trail?". Trust me, this was a big achievement in itself because chores of life, have a knack of burying all other stuff in deep recesses of Neverland. The fact that I did everything in time plus my 4 blogs and a few published middles gave me some dough to display.

I was on cloud nine when I got a mail from TOI announcing my selection. True, I had to spend 40 k for participation, but even the Marwaran in me was convinced that it was worth the experience. After all, I was going to have a session with Javed Akhtar, that stalwart of Hindi film industry, who has given us movies like 'Sholay' and ' Deewar' and countless memorable songs. Apart from him, there was an interesting mix of famous wordsmiths like Amish Tripathi, Swanand Kirkire, Shaili Chopra, Vinay Shukla, Agnello Dias and of course Bachi, who was the trail architect and was to stay with us throughout the trail.

A literary session with Javed Saab at JW Marriott, Mumbai. What an afternoon!!!

Stories from the Trail will lend themselves to another narrative. What I wanted to express in this post is how my belief got reinforced - the belief that no endeavor in life gets wasted. My blogs and middles took me to the Trail. I had a body of work that spoke to someone. My writing mattered. 

The Trail has already made precious memories and lovely friends. Who knows where all will it take me from here! Cheers to future literary journeys and happy blogging :)