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Showing posts from February, 2012

The 40 Syndrome

I have heard women say they have entered the threshold of 40 and along with it a whole gamut of emotions spilling. I have well crossed the 40ish line and although I have friends my age, I have broken bread with a lot more women younger and older than 40. The point is, do I feel any different now than when I was at my twenties or thirties? Do my peers feel different? Does my body feel different? My teenage years were fraught with emotions of all kinds. I was thin, I was under-confident wearing a skirt and I had too many infatuations. Plus tagging along those years was a long steady girlfriend who was more a boyfriend material. We played, we studied together and we were inseparable. Then came my 20s. Armed with a Master’s degree, I set out for the big world – the notorious capital city of India - to get a job other than teaching. My hill town made way only for teachers and knitting aunties in their nighties, the sight of which depressed me. The big world saw my initiation into all

Silly Billy

I wake up some days and spend too long thinking I have to write, quite like being entangled by this web of thought and finding it hard to untangle. It is a burdensome feeling. Funny I don't feel the same about my work, it involves tons of writing, perhaps it speaks about my sad attitude to work. Anything that involves work gets pushed to the periphery. I want to write nonsense, you know just inane stuff. I want to explore the freedom to feel anything in words. Unleashing the silly in me! I think a heavy weekend does that to me. Quite often I end up having heavy weekends in Melbourne.  By heavy I mean starting with a heavy meal on Fridays, going for a long walk and feeling just so exhausted. This is followed by a Saturday morning two-hour long yoga session at Fairfield where our teacher Vivienne and her meticulous asanas impact every bone joints and muscles in the body. After yoga, coming home to a bunch of friends who are at my place for a weekend sleepover leading to over d

Oh St Valentine, My Net is Slow

When one of my best friends told me she had met her husband of 15-plus years through a newspaper ad, it did not come as a surprise to me. Most of my friends in Delhi had arranged marriages anyway. There is a thriving matrimonial column in major newspapers that caters to anxious parents once their daughters reach ‘marriageable age’. The fact is, parents play a major role or more correctly, parents have a hand in match fixing. I was only a little surprised that my friend, a feisty strong-headed woman, would allow someone to choose a spouse for her. I recently met someone here, an Indian guy married to an Australian. They have been together for 20 years now and blessed with three sons. They were pen friends for seven years before they got married in the first month of their meeting in Mumbai when she visited him. Why is it then that people make so much fuss about online dating? I find it no different that newspapers or penfriends. The only difference may be the fact that with the n

Feeling Sissy

There was a time when the cacophony of endless laughter shook my quiet neighbourhood, I would think. That is what happens when you have four sisters together in a room, the laughter triggering from anything – the most inane act to silly anecdotes on sharing clothes! When I apologised to my neighbour Lynn about the noises ( well I have learnt to say a lot of apologies in Australia. Lynn apologises for her TV  the sound of which I have never heard to date; neighbours apologise if I happen to get startled by the sudden appearance of their dog when I am, in fact, busy walking glued to my cell phone ), she quickly replied, “Oh those were happy sounds.” She told me the other day how she loved hearing us laugh. I imagine she would be missing her two sisters a lot.  I had an enjoyable holiday playing host to my visiting sisters and my adorable nephew the whole month of January. The time flies and it has been already two weeks since they have left. I am struggling to fill the void; I am