The Patch-Up Girl


The sky is a beautiful bright blue, but not so blue that it hurts my eyes. The air is heavy with sunlight. The cool wind tickles my nostrils. My lips taste delicious, salty. I feel the grainy sand between my fingers and scoop it up in my hands. I love the ocean’s whisper as it crashes against the shore.

I lay there with my eyes closed. Pattering little feet come and go but I am not curious about them.

I feel the sky turn purple. I hear the hush of sunset. I long for a warm blanket.

Yet I lay there with my eyes closed. Passionate murmurs do not tempt me.

I lay there until my head clears of conflicting thoughts. My heart is strong once again, young and brave. The scars of survival fade away. The ocean’s whisper returns my innocence.

Slowly I open my eyes. The whitewashed ceiling is unforgiving. And it is all back again, the confused mind, the unending lethargy, the search for meaning. I am once again a patched-up little girl trying to learn the rules for living.

Another fun day at work

Colleague A: I have a cat. Her name is frog.

Colleague B: That would really confuse my child, I would have to say ‘This is frog, it’s a cat!’

Colleague A: She keeps jumping into the bath that I have drawn up for myself.

Colleague B: Well, she is probably thinking ‘They call me frog, I might as well act like one’. If someone asks you to name a child, you should refuse.

Have you overheard any odd conversations today?

A two year love story


I look into your beautiful brown eyes and can’t look away. Your hands are perfectly formed. I lie down next to you so that I can inhale every breath that you exhale. I wonder at the miracle that binds us together.

Every time we are apart I long to see you again. A look on your face and a crack in your voice is enough to break my heart. When you hold my face in your hands, I am overcome with a love I almost cannot bear. I could never have imagined that a love like this existed; I could never have guessed at its depth or anticipated its strength.

Every day that we are together, my son, I thank a God I don’t believe in. Every day, my son, I love you a little bit more. You have stolen my heart and my soul, my son and made me a more beautiful person since that cold day in September two years ago when I first met you.

A beautiful voice and forgotten songs

“Mein koi aisa gee gaoon, ke…”

Baby boy and I were watching the boats on the river from the balcony, when this song came on and I was overwhelmed by a powerful wave of nostalgia.

The sun beating down on my face, the tip-tap rhythm of my school shoes, chatter of school girls all around me and another little hand in my hand while we went round and round the school grounds. My best friend forever teaching me a song.

We were inseparable, hung out with each other every chance we got, sung our little hearts out together. We even wrote letters to each other for 2 years while we lived in different countries.

Then we stopped being friends, abruptly stopped talking to each other. Life moved on, my memory of her became just a pang of regret, nothing more.

Now many years later, we have started talking again, matured by our years apart. We may never be best friends again but maybe there was enough love in our little girl friendships that will see us through.

Baby boy and I twirl round the room. “Mein koi aisa geeth gaoon, ke…”.

Daily Post

Tube Etiquette:10 things I wish I could say to my fellow travellers

The London Underground (the Tube) is 151 years old. It is the third largest metro system in the world and handles about 4 million passenger journeys per day. I am one of those people. I use it every day. And everyday I wish I could say 10 things to other ‘tubers’ (Does that sound a bit wrong?)

  • Please do not wrap yourself around the handle bars. The tube people have put it there for short people like me hold on to, not for you to show off your burlesque skills.
  • Could you move your armpit ever so slightly away from my face?
  • I am sure your book is fascinating, but can I suggest you hold on to the yellow handlebars in order to avoid crashing into me very 2 mins? Yes, the yellow ones, thank you.
  • I worry about your hearing, really I do, because even my ears are hurting from listening to your music. And did you really think listening to that is cool?!
  • I am glad you made it just as the doors were closing but could you maybe not pant in my face, that onion bagel you had this morning is making my eyes water.
  • What an absolutely beautiful bag, I would have admired it a bit more if it wasn’t forcing my ribs apart.
  • Seriously, how long has it been since you washed your hair?! I am only asking becasue half of it is up my nose.
  • When pregnant women put their big bellies next to your face,you ridiculously large muscled man sitting in the priority seat, they aren’t expecting you to kiss their bump.
  • Would you be so kind as to turn your paper slightly more to the right so I too can read what the Duchess did with her hair this weekend? Thanking You.
  • Now this is a tricky concept, but the doors open at every station to allow passengers in and out. Please don’t take it as a challenge to see how much of the open door you can block.



ImageWhen I was young, I loved to love love. Life was all about the voracious reading of love stories, the soft light of dawn, the splatter of rain drops, a stolen look, the giggling of girlfriends, a shared smile, heartbreak. Youth stretched out indefinitely ahead.

With each passing year, however, the Paulo Coelho stories became a little less inspiring, the magic realism of solitude, a little more unrealisitic. Life slowly became the chaotic clamour of a hundred little fights, sleepless nights after a baby is born, incessant cleaning, stacks of dirty dishes, coughs and colds, an annoying manager, a million microwaved meals, packing lunchboxes, ironing, inflation, changing immigration rules. Life becomes about survival. Surviving the mindlessessness of those hundred little fights, finding a moment’s relief in a hug, looking for redemption in a single thought that strings it all together, hoping for a minute of reflection in a constant juggling act. It never comes. The fight for survival stretches indefinitely ahead and the path is for you to tread, alone.


Why Chetan Bhagat is part of the problem

In June 2011, Nielsen released the Women of Tomorrow report which is one of the ‘most comprehensive examinations into what women watch and buy’. The survey covered 6,500 women from 21 developed and developing countries. It was conducted online among women (over 18 years of age) and cut across social and income class. This report found that Indian women were the most stressed in the world, with 87% of Indian women saying that they felt stressed most of the time. They are followed by women in Mexico (74%), Russia (69%), Spain (66%), France (65%) and Italy (64%).

I recently came across a column written in response to this report in the Times of India by Chetan Bhagat titled ‘Don’t Worry, Be Happy’. He begins by calling the Indian woman ‘the most beautiful’ in the world. He then gives us 5 ‘tips’ on how to become less stressed. Chetan says we need to ‘give it back’ to our mother-in-laws, quit our jobs if our bosses don’t value us, ask our husbands to ‘take a hike’ when we become economically independent,not worry too much about work-life balance as no one will remember your designation on the day you die and not to be competitive with other women because she has lost more weight than you or makes her husband a 5 tiffin lunch.

I wonder who this Indian woman is who he speaks to? One who can quit her job and leave her husband when fancy strikes. How is this is any way sound, well thought out advice? Even if he targeted this only at the highly educated, young Indian women living in the Indian metros, it doesn’t hold up; let alone the vast majority of Indian women across the country, making their living from hand to mouth.

He is in essence telling the Indian woman that the reason for her stress, that the problem is not our overwhelmingly patriarchal society. The problem is not that women are treated as property. The problem is not that we are still discriminated in the workplace, in society, at home. The problem is not that female sexuality is demonised by the Indian ‘culture’. The problem is not that women are trapped by traditional expectations. The problem is not the non-existent support structure or negative attitudes towards women in society that limits women from achieving their true potential. The problem is not the complex bias that women have to grapple with everyday. The problem is not that people like him- IIT/IIM educated, young, influential- think it is ok to patronise us, think that calling us beautiful is enough to blind our eyes to the real issues with which we juggle. No, Chetan says that the problem is merely our response to all of the above. Just change our response and we will become not only the least stressed but the happiest women in the world.

I wish he had had the young men of India in mind when writing this and targeted these ‘tips’ at them to help them reduce the stress in the women in their lives.

1. Treat women, including your wife, mother, mother-in-law, as your fellow human beings, your equals.

2. Don’t discriminate against women in your workplaces. Value them, recognise their true potential. It is just good business sense. The recent Credit Suisse Research Institute study found that firms with women on their boards have consistently outperformed those led by only male directors. Ernst & Young recently published a white paper which identifies women as ‘one of the world’s most promising emerging markets’. Harness the talent.

3. Give women better access to higher education. Studies have shown that educating women reduces infant mortality rates, leads to better education for children, better family life and a more balanced, empowered society. Allow them to become economically independent. Confident women can can step up to lead their families and communities.

4. Team up with your wife. Remember it is your home too. Take pride in contributing to keeping it beautiful.

5. Treat each woman as the unique individual she is. Don’t categorise, label, judge, patronise. Help them confront the causes of their subordination and powerlessness and transform their relationship with men.

Chetan was named as one of the 100 most influential people in the world by Time Magazine in 2010. Someone in that position should have thought long and hard about the message he wants to send out, how he wants to influence India. He represents an important part of Indian society- the educated, young, modern Indian man. In their hands lie the power to change patriarchy. And the power to treat women differently, fairly. If we can get every Indian man to think a little differently about the women in their lives, to think of them as fellow human beings, that way lies progress and a better India. If that happened, although we may still not become the happiest women in the world, we will at least stop becoming the most stressed, the most vulnerable and the most exploited.