You know what harassment looks like?

You know what harassment looks like?

A 13 year old girl followed home from the rickshaw stand by a labourer on a cycle.

You know what harassment looks like?

A 14 year old girl followed from her home to her tuition by a fat man making lewd gestures with his fingers near his crotch. 

You know what harassment looks like?

A 14 year old girl too scared to go back to her tuition. 

You know what harassment looks like?

A man trying to get a feel of a teen's breasts in a 5 minutes auto ride after dark.

You know what harassment looks like?

Not having the option of getting down from the auto because you're too scared about not getting any other transportation back home.

You know what harassment looks like?

 Having your breasts compared to melons

You know what harassment looks like?

Having to hear young boys sing "pee loon " as you walk down the road.

You know what harassment looks like?

Hating the songs for ages after that

You know what harassment looks like?

Having to change routes because it's dark and you're walking home alone. 

You know what harassment looks like?

Feeling unsafe in your lane when one of the street lights breaks down. 

You know what harassment looks like?

 Men and women staring at your cleavage

You know what harassment looks like?

Feeling the need to cover up  your cleavage.

You know what harassment looks like?

Covering your face with your bag because some random guys have started clicking pictures of your girls with their phones at your bus stand.

You know what harassment looks like?

Having to do that everyday.

You know what harassment looks like?

Knowing your sister will be harassed and she's barely 10.

You know what harassment looks like?

Coming back home to hear your 11 year old sister recount her scary story of how she was followed home from the bus stand. 

You know what harassment looks like?

Witnessing the same fat guy that followed you ages ago, masturbating outside your house.

You know what harassment looks like?

Instinctively knowing that the fat guy probably harasses the students of the all girls school opposite your home. 

 
You know what harassment looks like?

Having to explain what harassment looks like.

You know what harassment looks like?

The fatigue from the countless times you've explained what harassment looks like. 


Street harassment is something all women are handed on a ready plate and told to deal with. Because, "men will be men" and "such is a women's life"; so on and so forth. 

This post is completely based on my and my sister's experiences. 

Most women will relate. A few men will try to imagine. Some will understand. Most men will dismiss it as another write up by a bitchy, whining women who thinks her life sucks.






 

Perplexing painters

We have painters working in the house. And it's pretty weird and awkward. They are working on the exterior right now but will move in pretty soon.  I can hear them work, I can hear their comments. It reminds me of the time a a labourer suffered from mistaken identity because of me. I am a bit disconcerted and a bit flustered by the possible lack of privacy. It's going to be a long month.

Sigh.

I am cheating on my boyfriend but he doesn't seem to mind

It was at the age of 19 that I developed my love for cooking. I may not like the chopping part, the rest of it; I love. And I  am not exactly a foodie but  I adore feeding them. 

Cooking, collecting recipes' trying them, baking; gives me as much joy as writing does. I had never thought I would enjoy any activity as much as I enjoy writing but I do! And it amazes me!

A week ago a friend of mine told me how I can smoke vegetables easily without  using any expensive equipment. It's simple and cost effective. 

So the next day I bought some charcoal, skewers and an earthen pot and today I tried smoking half a green capsicum. 

So here's how you do it:

Resolutions, races and well it's 2014 already!

Hi!

It's the first day of the year and well after eons I've made new year resolutions (thanks to my sister). And one of the resolutions is writing a blog post everyday. I don't know how I'll manage it but a girl can be ambitious, right? 

I just randomly said that I want to like to write 365 blog posts in the next one year. Well, for the last few months maybe, I have been sort of not-so-inclined to write; in the sense that I have not gotten time to put my thoughts down to paper. I had a lot of things I could write about; probably; but never did. That's really pathetic of me. Sounds really pathetic.

Anyway, first day of the year and here I am. 2013 was amazing and I was pretty  morbid about it ending yesterday but I guess it's fine. 

Today was definitely fun. For the the first time I went to see a derby race. It was undoubtedly amazing! Half of the crowd were fashionistas waiting for cameras to click them. The other half were people like me; excited about the races. 

I have been wanting to go for a few years and Calcutta has a huge and amazing racecourse and I have always wondered about horse racing. 

I don't like horses that much, because they stink. Or I should say that the horses I  have encountered stunk. I think the well kept ones, don't. Horse are possibly one of most beautiful animals (and someone told me, one of the dumbest.) It was an amazing experience; to see those horses gallop. I wish I had gambled. though. Somehow that didn't happen. 

Even though we didn't gamble, I predicted the winner and he won. Beginners luck? I chose that horse coz the jockey was cute. He was lanky and very very thin! 


The race lasted for hardly 3 minutes. Before you realise it, it gets over! And there you have it, a winner. 

The first race was cancelled for some reason. We missed the 2nd one because  we were busy eating, and looking around and trying to find our box. We saw the next three races.

A pleasant start to the year, I hope the good things continue. That's what we all want, don't we?

It's 2014! That's gonna take a little while to sink in. I am expecting a lot of changes to happen this year. Jittery about them, excited about them. I mean, it's weird that you can be both excited AND scared about the same thing. 

But here I am. A new challenge; a new year and this will sound a bit cliche; a new beginning. New year= new beginning blah, blah, blah. 

See you tomorrow!

And yes,
A very happy new year to all!

Today just got better

It started raining here right now. Talk about surprises. 


I went out to get wet. Getting wet in the rain is one of my favourite things to do. 


I didn't look sexy. (not that I expected to or wanted to) More like a mess. I jumped in  puddles. What is life without jumping in a few puddles? 




"Let the rain fall, I don't care" 




My day just got better. 

Not a drop less

More than a spoonful

The picture above is the amount of milk we have in our fridge everyday.  We are a family of five milk obsessed punjabis. Running out of milk is a crisis at our place. Panic sets in. We may be globalised but essentially we are very punjabi in our habits. All punjabis I think are obsessed with milk and milk products. 


We get milk from two sources. A milk agency guy comes in the morning to give us bottled milk. In the evening, a milkman comes and measures out 2 litres of milk for us. Think man on cycle, with milk containers clanging on his cycle. Also known as the gwala. 


We make our own ghee and paneer. Which is good, as it costs less than what is available in the market. Takes more effort, of course. Like a good punju girl I drink milk everyday. Twice. 


When I want to skip dinner and refuse to have even a morsel, this is the conversation I have.


"Kuch te khale!"
"Nahi bhuk"
"Acha chal doodh peele"


Loosely translated:


"Atleast eat a bit"
"I am not hungry."
"Alright, have some milk."

This is the mug I use if I am drinking warm milk

To make drinking milk more interesting my mother bought me cute mugs when I was younger. I remember I used to have a mug with an umbrella shaped lid. I miss that mug. 


When my dad is at home he has uncountable cups of tea. Why do I say uncountable? We are not allowed to count how many. 


We may run out of rice or flour and it will do. The fridge being devoid of milk just won't do! Milk will be bought from the neighborhood Mother Dairy booth. 


And we also have solutions for boredom with a plain and simple white liquid. Coffee. Bournvita. Rose syrup. Almond syrup. Mango shakes. (Which reminds me, we have not had mangoes yet!!) If these options still seem uninteresting and we refuse to drink  our customary two glasses, we are provided with porridge. And if we still don't have it, the milk is curdled; loads of sour curd is made which is later used to make curry.  Or a home made Mithai is made(very rare) And oh I forgot, the rest of the family has curd with dinner. 


The basic story line of this post is that my mom refuses to buy less milk than she does and all the milk will be used up in some way or the other. Did I mention we are obsessed? 

The Sunny Times

Summer is all about having fun right? I live in Kolkata and summers here are all about sweating all over. 

The sweating started in April this time. Drip, drip and drip. Loads of drip, drip actually. 

I am not scared of the Sun, though. My friend Kaniti, her face literally dries up in the sun. She can't do without an umbrella. I can. I like summer. Even though I crib about the humidity.  

And this summer is going to be different. Final exams out of the way, I can now claim that my student life is finally over. I do not plan to study further, get a post graduation degree like all my friends are. 


And before I resume work full fledgedly( I have my own business) I need to travel. I want to go places. Only recently I have realised that the travel bug in me can't be curbed. I get restless if I don't go anywhere. I plan to travel. I have a whole list of places I want to visit. The list is pretty long and has only a few ticks. 

I plan to move out of my city and relocate some place else. Not because I don't love my city but because I want a new experience. 

I guess this summer will be about new experiences . I plan to learn how to drive. I want to learn a new language. I have some new plans for my business. New ideas for fiction. As one chapter closes, a new chapter is opened. 

New beginnings are tough and sort of scary. I say sort of because doing something I want to gives me confidence. That doesn't mean I am not scared at times.

Summer should be fun. Full of surprises. Maybe I will enjoy these surprises. But i do like to plan. So maybe planned surprises? I don't know if there exists such a thing. 


Summer need not be sweaty. What are hankies for? I think I would just apply some sunscreen, take out my shades, carry some water and enjoy the sun. 


This post was written for the Lakme Diva Blogger contest.  I love Lakme

Ah, it's your turn now

I think a favourite hobby (and a common one they share) of the 50+ people I live with is discussing the marriage eligibility of relatives of my generation ( i.e my cousins; both distant and non-distant) They participated in this hobby even today. As they were counting off people( mostly in their twenties, some touching thirty) they also mentioned my cousin V's name. Now this, is a cause of alarm. V is only a year older.  That makes me eligible(if not now, a year later.) And THAT is SCARY. 


Many of my cousins got married in the last 5 years. Many. AK is exasperated at the number of relatives/cousins I have. (And the number of times I have told her that a cousin of mine is getting married.) She says she can't keep count. Honesty, neither can I. 

Not what we do

Anyway, back to the subject of eligibility. It crops up every few weeks. At dinner time. ( I am surprised at the frequency of it) I am  both   amused and bemused at these discussions. Amused because they take such relish in counting of names of people who can get married ("some of them according to social norm should as soon as they can grab someone" is the unsaid statement ) I am bemused because they will not tire of this hobby. Once all of these people are married, am sure they will come up with new names( I am curious about how that goes) They may come up with a new subject to indulge in- kids(as in how many married people need to have kids) To be fair they have never discussed the possible future kids of the already married ones. 


This hobby also makes me think of something that creeps me out. It is not creep-worthy, but still. There may be some random uncle/aunty/relative(distant or non-distant) who may be including my name in their dinner time(or tea time) discussion about the "Eligibility Factor". Because I know that most aunties and uncles and grandmotherly figures discuss the possible marriage of other people's kids. It's as if it's upon them to get the next generation married. 


I am intrigued by this phenomenon. I am not saying that I don't like the idea of marriage. I do. I  just don't understand why  someone's eligibility is everyone's business. XYZ will get married when she wants to. Why discuss it? You don't have to pay her marriage bills. You don't have to organise the various events associated with a wedding. They just have to turn up (if they are invited) and congratulate the couple and hand them something. It's not as if these people have nothing else to do. ( ok, some of them have nothing else to do) My parents do have things to do and other interesting things to discuss. I think it's just a habit. Because of the social norm factor. 


The 50+ people in my house are also victims of the social norm.( like most of us) And they simply cant help it.  




P.S: Anyone who knows anyone who is eligible please contribute names to my parents. They will love to have extra people in their list. 

In here

Not an everyday occurrence this. I don't think I will forget it in a hurry. An owl visited us today. An actual live owl. Those ten minutes were exciting, to say the least. I was working when our help called out. I went upstairs. And saw the owl. Sitting on our side board. I was awed. I ran down to get my camera. And clicked away. Uploaded the pictures immediately. Then it flew away. I couldn't work after that. 

It wasn't a big owl. But it was magnificent. 

P.S.  Owls are by far my favourite birds.