Story of my life!

I had had a really long day and all I wanted to was, hit the sack. So sympathising with my tired eyes for having subjected it to hours of incandescent radiation from the mobile screen, I took off my glasses, when I caught sight of a lone strand of white hair on my head peeking out from behind the stiff black locks. And then, all hell broke loose. I began tugging at it in an attempt to see the last of it – when my mother caught me in the act. What followed was an hour long sermon (on how if I pull this one strand out, a hundred more will take its place), stern reprimands (for the rustic state of my hair.) and my incessant bawling (Because I clearly couldn’t stand the shock).
As I googled for remedies that might help put me out of my misery, I carefully tucked the reason for it beneath the still, seemingly dark mane, in a belligerent attempt to shield my age along with the other insecurities that threatened to oust my reality.

Cheers!

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Why?

Considering I don’t come from a community that uses surnames, I want to know why every 9 out of 10 women I know who’ve gotten married have changed their last names from their father’s to their husband’s. Transfer of ownership eh? Right from their Facebook profiles to their Instagram handles to their names on their passports all of them.

I, for one, have never been able to understand this concept. When you’re born, though you belong to both your mother and your father, your only add your father’s name to your name. Why couldn’t my name have been Annapurani Kalyani Vaidyanathan instead of Annapurani Vaidyanathan?

Okay. That was then. Then, when the women in the society were docile. Then, when no one bothered to question anything they were subjected to.

But today is different. A tiny bit different from yesterday. But not a tad too different how it was years ago. Yet, even today, the moment a women gets married she adds her husband’s name to hers. To show to the world that she belongs to him? Maybe. To show to the world that she is taken? Maybe. But then, the same applies to her husband as well. Does he do that then? Not because the society wants him to, not because that is the norm but because the same technicalities apply to him as well? NO.

Stop doing it because it is the norm. Stop doing it because people want you to. Stop doing it because it sounds fancy. Stop doing it to show to the world that you belong to someone, because you don’t belong to anyone, except yourself. Do it if he doesn’t find any shame in adding your name to his. Do it because if he is as proud of you, as you are of him. Do it if he respects you as much as you respect him. Do it if he finds as much happiness in being a part of your life as you do, in being a part of his.

Because hey, you don’t need anyone to complete you. Woman up. You are as good an entity in this world as the man.
You aren’t in anyway beneath your man.

To those who want to argue it is her choice and she ain’t required to do it – I’m talking of the practice that’s been going on in the society for ages now. The practice that the woman now belongs to her husband’s clan. The practice that the woman and the children she begets will now follow his family’s choices and practices and methods. The practice that indicates that she no longer is part of her parent’s home now belongs to the husband’s family. I’m talking of that.

Not the one of choice – where the woman herself chooses to add his name to hers.

And to those wondering if I’m a feminist –

If you haven’t figured it already, hell yes, I am. Because, being an egalitarian clearly doesn’t work in a patriarchal society such as ours.

Cheers!

Happy Diwali! ❤

A very happy Diwali to all of you out there. May this Diwali bring lots of happiness, success, peace and prosperity.

And I take this opportunity to present to you a YouTube video where I talk about Superstitions and the need to follow your heart, and pursue your passion. Do check it out and lemme know what you think, because, it’s absolutely relatable to all of us and it’s something each of us have gone through

P.S. I’m a bit worked up and my pace is too fast. There’s noise in the background too. But don’t give up on me yet, will you?

Love

Nostalgia – memories of a lifetime ❤

No matter how much things change, no matter how many new things come up, no matter how much the world we live in modernises, what we grew up with, will always remain super close to our hearts. They’ll always have a special place in our lives, a place that’s irreplaceable. 

Because, this feeling is something that each of us can relate to, because I feel so innately nostalgic about it, here’s me sharing a post about one of my favourite places in the city I live. Do read it and share your thoughts, similar memories and experiences. I’m looking forward to read each of yours.

Read it here 👉 Nostalgia – my city, my home.

To you! ❤

To you, that makes mistakes. To you that cries in fear, in pain, in agony. To you that reaches out for help. To you that makes the choices and stays by them. To you, that sticks to the choices that’s been made for you. To you, that dreams. To you, that doesn’t want what the rest of the world does. To you, that chases what nobody else does. To you, that perseveres and pursues. 
To you that has flaws. To you that is impulsive. To you that repents. To you that has awkward conversations. To you that jumps in happiness. To you that falls and fails. To you that picks yourself up and tries again. To you that hesitates. To you that fumbles. To you that isn’t perfect.

To you that has a bone of contention about every micron you see. To you that commits a faux pas every living second.
To you that wakes up each day to make a difference. To you that faces disappointments. To you, that believes. To you that inspires.
The universe, looks up to you.
Nobody else can be you – your blemishes, your blunders, your choices – They make you, you.
You, are the star of your life.
Cheers!

Who art thou?

Of the million people who call themselves your friends, who are those who’d really be by your side?

Who are those you can actually pledge your life for, the hints below will perhaps help you decide –
A) They don’t talk to you everyday, but you know,

They’ll be there for you, come rain or shine, storm or snow.
B) You talk to them every second minute, they are your life boat,

They know when you sneeze, miss your bus or spill your coffee – they’re basically your strength, your moral support.
C) They’re pretty preoccupied always, they’re the perpetual busy bees,

But one call you make, they’ll make you their priority, letting everything else freeze.
D) They text you only when they’re bored or free or when they have nothing else to do,

You can gauge what you mean to them with the frequency of their replies to you,

You’re never their priority, with a hundred unread messages, yours will be the last they’d respond to.
E) They don’t want to do anything with you, 

But they’re pretty keen in knowing what you’re upto,

They keep track of where you go and what you do,

They’re always the first to ask you “Where?” When? How? With who?”
F) They read your messages, but don’t intend to respond,

They receive your calls, but find reasons to abscond, 

But they want you to be there for them everytime they demand,

And, ask you to, without missing a beat, understand.

Stick to the people who stand by you, for they are the sunshine in your rainbow,

They are who you can cling on to, for life – don’t ever let them go.

For those who only give you their excuses for company, leave them alone,

Delete their contacts, and clear some space in your phone!

So the next time…

Of late, a lot of forums have come up (WhatsApp groups, Facebook groups, blogger networks etcetera) where people can post their work for honest reviews, feedback and constructive criticism – precisely what they are meant for. 
An artist chooses a medium to communicate. To convey to the world his thoughts, his ideas, his message. When you give the artist your feedback, understand no one is born an expert, no one is flawless. Understand his need to be heard, understand his want to be accepted. Language is just a mode to communicate – so focus more on the message he is trying to convey. The grammar, spelling, rhyme, etcetera are important – but those are meant to be perfected with practice, with experience, with exposure.
So the next time you criticise, make sure you don’t show off your “Grammar Nazi” skills to project how good you are. Or how good your language is. Or how far he is from where you’ve reached. Instead appreciate him for having the guts to step out to communicate with the world. Guide him, help him understand how he can excel at what he does.
Criticism in any form is meant to hit the target, not wound it.

Let yours help the artist improve for the better, not make him shut himself down for good.
P.S. None of this applies to the family, to the teachers, to the best friends who know us even before we learned to communicate..