DayDreaming

A distant dream

Of peace and quiet

A field of flowers

Of bright blue skies

Of straw hat naps

Under the sunshine

Of picnic baskets

And frizzy drinks

Of laughter and conversations

And stolen kisses

A distant dream

Of peace and quiet

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Over the years, after meeting multitude of people I have come to realize that being a good listener is such an underrated skill. I think most of us have this incontrollable need to put across our point of view or experiences in every conversation. Many a times not considering the fact that some situations may not require us to get into sharing or problem-solving mode. As an introvert-pretending-to-be-an-extrovert, I really struggle to share my issues, problems and any mundane stuff with people, however close they might be. And it breaks my heart into a million pieces when they go into “Hey, the same thing happened to me…”, “Oh you know what you should do…” and the worse when they keep interrupting. Arrrghh. Just, Zip.It.Up.

 I am what you’d call a quarter of a Drama Queen. Whenever I am in some dilemma, trouble or any kind of minor inconvenience I like to make a huge hullabaloo out of it. I like to endlessly talk about it but mind you, I am not looking for any solutions or help. All I want to portray is how hard the situation is and make you a witness to how awesomely I am going to stride through it. On my own. Why is this so difficult to understand? Especially to people of the umm opposite sex. Sit your ass down darling prince, this damsel will take care of her own distress. Thank you very much.

 Now I know I have my flaws as a person but one thing I am really proud of is my ability to listen. Just listen. Make the other person comfortable and let them just vent out. You would not believe how good the other person feels when you simply just give them an attentive ear. What helps more is that I never forget anything. All useless trivia like your ex-boyfriend, the ice-crème flavour you ate 4 years back, the name of the guy who hit on you when you were in college, your latest bumble match, the name of your brother-in-law’s cousin you had a crush on, name of your neighbours’ pet, your favourite cousin, the name of your best friend growing up. This and a lot more. So, while the person is speaking, I keep dropping these titbits of information which further pleases the person that they have undivided attention (and interest) of their audience. Well, if I am being honest a few of them are a little freaked out as well, but impressed, nonetheless.

 I know this post has taken quite a comical turn but my original intent for it was to be a serious one. I mean the examples I have given are very tame compared to the monstrosity I have witnessed people commit. I would say it is still okay to butt in for minor day to day stuff, but people really need to be taught how to behave in sensitive situations. Situations like death and condolences. When you talk to a bereaved family or a person, you do not give examples of how the same or worse happened with you and how you cope up with it. You do not make it about yourself. Give them love, give them strength. If you cannot do that just shut your mouth and just be there. Trust me, people however doomed they maybe in grief remember who came, who called and who was silently just present. And for the love of God, don’t go about asking the age of the person who passed away. I mean how does that matter? A loss is a loss irrespective of the time, age or any other factors. Don’t go on being a jerk.

What baffles me the most is that people committing these faux pas aren’t some underaged kids but grown-ups. I have personally seen people decades older than me behaving like complete social misfits. Incidents like these solidify my belief that apart from algebra and organic chemistry, we need to be teaching empathy and values in school. And a refresher course of using social media. On how just because you sit behind a screen doesn’t give you a right to pass mean comments and judgements on people.

 Well, that’s all. My rant for the day is done. I hope my miniscule audience here reads, agrees and implements atleast a part of what I have written about.

Until next time.

Love:

Sepo

 

THUG – The Hate You Give

Ever thought about our time in this world. About what our real purpose here is. I mean are we just supposed to work, eat, sleep. Spend our weekdays waiting for weekends and then live it up for those two days until we are back to the grind. Of course, some of us love the work or the lives we lead but the majority I would say still have a very mundane existence. We have no idea how much time we have left in this world, or what kind of struggles we have in store for future. We still never make the most of our time. Never choose peace. Respect fellow humans. And to complicate things we also choose to throw out unnecessary hate out there. In the name of religion, politics, ideologies, sexual preferences and what not. We forget that the person next door or across borders is actually just a human being. Same as us. Limbs, bones, blood, veins, heart, brain – all same stuff. We are not manufactured based on religion. Like I don’t come up with a chip in my brain or a mark on my forehead that marks my allegiances to one particular community or religion.

I already come from a place that’s always been divided on the basis of religion. So much so that my family had to leave and settle elsewhere because of the communal unrest. The place considered to be heaven on earth is bullet and blast ridden for three decades now. There is a strong disconnect and discontent amongst people. Even though there is a strong cultural connect, mutual love for the land but somehow the hate is so strong, it negates everything else.

I have recently moved to a different country and imagine my surprise when after spending just 1 month here, I was rudely acquainted with the very disheartening news of communal tension. In a different country. Amidst people of different nationalities and ethnicities. With all the challenges that come with living in a different country as immigrants. The Hindu and Muslims, the Indians and Pakistanis had somehow managed to retrigger the inbuilt hatred and gone supremely public with it. I just couldn’t believe it that all these bullshits literally followed with across seas and oceans. One would imagine that being in a neutral country away from the communal tension, people would realize that behind the different religion and outlooks we are all just humans. People from different religion do not have horns on their heads. They look just like us. In fact, once you talk to them and get to know them better you realize they are not that different from us. Their culture, food, habits, day to day activities, nuances, family troubles are all the same as us.

As educated, sensible, open-minded, responsible adults I well it is our duty to broaden our mindset. Try and think beyond a cocoon that we have been fed and taught in. Respect each other for respective beliefs and at the same time be open to un-learn some of the toxic though process. Not get riled up by the political narratives. Think and think hard before joining a so-called protest in a temple or a mosque. And please do not be hesitant to be friends or at least civil with the people you think (or have been taught) to think as enemies.

Like I said before I have recently moved to a different country and met a lot of new people. People from different countries including people from across the border. In fact, I have now come to be very close friends with this one girl from a country that was born out of India. No, not the one you are thinking, the other one. And beyond our very apparent differences of religion, country and other stuff – I have come to realize that she, just like me is a girl underneath all that. A girl who loves to talk about silly things, shop, spend money on unnecessary things, eat out a lot, visit pretty cafes and just being an amazing independent smart girl. I have come to really admire her. Not that I was not prejudiced or did not have different biases in my head. But given a chance, I chose to unlearn and move forward (in every sense of the word).

In a world full of hatred, choose peace. For your own good more than anything else.
Make love not war (cliché, I know).

Stay happy people.

Love:
Sepo

The Curious Case of Kashmiri Naalmut

Once a friend of mine from Mumbai was talking about how she is going to visit her mother's house after a really long time. I told her that she would be getting a tight hug from her mother today. She looked at me like I had lost my marbles. We spent the next 15 minutes discussing about the standard code of greetings at everyone's respective homes. We also pulled in a friend from Kerala. Both Mumbai and Kerala friends were non hug-ers and scrunched up their noses at this too-close-for-my-comfort kind of greeting. I kept my kashmiri mouth shut but my mind wandered to this scene where my nani engulfed me in tight hugs multiple times a day, whenever I came out of my room. Moist kisses on hands and forehead as a bonus!

As a kashmiri, hugging is a standard code of conduct. No questions asked. No eyebrows raised. You meet an aunty/uncle for a first time? You hug them, if they are feeling generous - they will plant a kiss on your forehead, a myouth. You go visit someone - you hug them all, while coming and going. Or else they will feel you are aloof and non-loving. You are getting married? Well, best of luck. Sitting on the stage, you will be smothered in hugs and kisses while you sit pretty and pose. Now all was well with our kashmiri hugs or naalmout as we call it, but then covid happened.

Above two pictures are art pieces by a talented kashmiri artist (Instagram handle - @diyminiatures)

In a world where we shrink away from a handshake, good old naalmout is totally out of questions. But years of programing cannot be erased completely now is it? So some of the meetings post corona have been awkward for us kashmiri's, comical even. You meet, approach and take the embrace stance but then realization strikes and now you are in a weird pose of a bird about to take flight. This is now proceeded by uncomfortable tap tap on the shoulder or an even awkward single arm side hug. And then we take seat, all the time contemplating whether you were rude not to hug or inconsiderate to go so near and touch someone in the pandemic times. My naani however is not bothered, when I refuse to present my forehead she takes my hands instead and plants her bountiful kisses on them.     

Apart from this being funny another reason for me to write about this was the fact that deep deep deep down - I do love this whole naalmout deal. A tight hug is sometimes all we need to express how happy we are to meet each other. Longer the squeeze happier the heart. With so many of our rituals and practices slowly going extinct, I guess we should tightly hold onto whatever we can manage to and pass it on to the next generation. It is after-all all these nuances that keep the kashmiri in us irrespective of where we are.                                                  

Talking about myself - I love hugs. Period. Though never been a fan of the forced kisses but kinda missing those wet myouth's on the forehead. Here's to Covid free and full of hugs 2022. Please be kind (and mild!).

Lots of Love:

Sepo

Marvelous Mrs Maisel

I started watching this series when I was feeling particularly miserable about somethings happening in my life at that point. As I finished watching the first episode I knew I had made a marvelous decision. What I thought to be a comedy-centric show had so much more to offer. Breaking stereotypes, women breaking shackles and society's norms, courage to start over from scratch. All this and hilarious. No not just hilarious HaHa but hilarious laughing my ass off. Thinking and suddenly breaking out laughing hilarious. 

The series in based in the 1950s in New York around this uber cool (and rich) Jewish family. Miriam "Midge" Maisel is a happily married woman with porcelain skin and an enviable wardrobe. She is in shape and perky in-spite of having 3 children.  A girl and a boy. Her life is perfection. However suddenly her stand up comedy enthusiast husband leaves her for a much younger secretary. What could have been devastating comes as a blessing in disguise. In an unsettling state Miriam decides to rant at the club they used to frequent as a couple, invariably giving her first stand up performance and catching the attention of the club manager, a certain Ms Susie Myerson (More about her later).

So, that sets the ball rolling. What follows is a joyous ride of 3 seasons. A lot of stand-up acts, sizzling chemistry, banters (especially the ones between Susie and Miriam) and bonds. The eccentricities for each character is what I liked best about the series. Miriam's parents are this typical rich Jewish family, who do not like to intermingle much. They have a good social presence and an impeccable style of living. Her in-laws on the other hand are loud, brash and money minded. The interactions between these two families create some mind-blowing scenes. But the understated star of the show is Ms Susie Myerson. I have fallen in love with this character. Her attitude, style, dressing sense, sass and demeanor is awe-inspiring and damn hilarious.

The dialogues and especially the dialogue delivery is amazingly executed. The stand-up bits are a riot. Punch lines delivered with a straight face and many a times hitting under the belt. The very idea of women in stand-up comedy is new even in today's time. Now think back to 50's, a woman, oh wait a divorced woman, Jewish, with 2 kids was something unheard off. Her topics which range from family, Jewish stereotypes,  marriage, sexual in tunes often land her and Susie in trouble. But that's the fun and frolic of their relationship. And both of them together make a strong case for feminism and women empowerment which has been subtly covered in the show.

The cinematography is lit, considering its a period drama - makers have ensured to capture the essence of old times. So you see a lot of vintage cars, outfits, decors and slang. The ever vibrant and romantic city of NY and jazz clubs have been beautifully captured. The series also touches upon important historic moments, so in the third season you have the girls performing for WW soldiers. The actors are all cast perfectly to their roles, doing utmost justice. Miriam (Rachel Brosnahan) is a fabulous actress and that pretty face with perfect outfits make her a delight to watch on screen. Joel Maisel (Michael Zegen) the on and off  husband plays the role of spineless husband perfectly having a good moments here and there. Parents though not central to the story or having many scenes are a hoot. But the kind of exposure this series has given to Alex Borstein (actor who plays Susie) is unmatched. You may remember her playing blink-and-you-will-miss roles previously but this series has literally  brought out the best in her. As you might have guessed by now - she is my absolute favorite.

After reading this review, if you are still not convinced to watch this series, then do me a favor please. Go to YouTube and search "Susie Myerson one liners". If that doesn't convince you nothing will! In fact its my go-to watch whenever I feel a little down and out. Watch and be transported back in time, a fabulous time where women are not just pretty little things, but have a voice, are independent and kick some ass when required.

Tits Up (you gotta watch to know this).

Love:

Sepo

Life behind the Veil

A country cries

Its people scream

A cry for help

Falling from the sky

Leaving everything behind

Men have fought for it

Won it, abused it

Bombed it and destroyed

It has tried to rebuilt itself 

Women have emerged

Against the force

To breathe

An unhindered kabul fragnance 

Of ripe pomegranates and juicy grapes

They have made peace with high heels

Nailpainted toes peeking out

Smiling without fear

Kneading dough for naan

While listening to music

A morning they wake up to a news

Which will change their lives again

For worst

Music is stopped

Heels are tucked away

Venturing alone is not allowed

The breaths are hindered again

Back to living behind the blue veil

Gridded vision and lost dreams.

A country cries

Its people scream

The House I Never Saw

There was once a house

Which stood tall on the street 

It was three storyed they say

In the beautiful valley

It had an attic

Which overlooked the entire street

The family loved sitting here in winters

Keeping an eye on the street

While relishing apples with walnuts

Three generations lived here

Aunts and uncles 

Sisters and brothers

Nephews and nieces

There was a sour cherry tree

In the courtyard

Dad climbed the tree and threw them down

My sister stretched her frock to catch them

A tangy chutney used to be made

Which could be eaten with just plain rice

That's what they say

If I close my eyes and concentrate

I can almost taste the tartness

In winters the home diety was revered 

A day specifically to feed the gods

Spicy fish and rice

Gods visit each home and protect it 

Unrest and destruction 

Had found its way into the valley

In the dark of the morning

Occupants of the house fled

Never to return again

My generation never got to see that house

Or catch and taste the sour cherries

We did not grow up with three generations 

But we keep feeding the gods

We carry a piece of valley with us

I have my own image of that house

The one I never saw

I wonder if it still stands tall on the street? 

Stories by Rabindranath Tagore

Do you remember back  when we were in school? During summer vacations we would watch old mythological and other stories with a message to teach. Or sit together with friends or cousins listening intently to your grandparents reciting various stories. That's exactly how I felt watching this extremely well made and beautiful series called Stories by Rabindranath Tagore.

As you might have guessed by the name, the series is based on stories of Rabindranath Tagore ji. While some of them are popular and already been pictured many times - like Chokher Bali, Kabuliwala etc. Many of the others were pretty unknown to me. And I loved each one of them more than the other.

The star cast baring for a few (Radhika Apte, Amrita Puri, Sumeet Vyas) are mostly new faces, which works wonderfully in the favour of the stories. I would say more than the acting and the picturization, it is the very essense of these stories that makes the entire series stand out. Like I mentioned before these are simple stories,  no major suspense or heist or explicit content and yet they bring out varied human emotions and nuances beautifully. And the best part is the strong female characters in almost all of the stories, who not not afraid to strand up for themselves. Considering the fact that the series in based in 1920s, and the stories were written even before that - you will love how progressive the stories are.

The cinematography perfectly matches the old school charm of the series. Everything from the sets, clothes, dialect will take you back in time and share some bits of Bengal. But then its directed by Anurag Basu, can you expect anything else?

On an exceptionally cold foggy sunday, I sat cuddled in my kashmiri pheran and cup of hot coffee in my hand. I was browsing Netflix for a perfect companion and settled on " Stories by Rabindranath Tagore ". Easily the best decision I ever made. I sat glued in my place for next 2 days and devoured and relished the entire series. Do not miss this beauty of a series, which will not only transport you back in time but also teach a few morals on the way. 

The People Who Left Everything Behind

What makes us fear things?
The Future? Our family and children?
Unpredictability?
Anxiety? A disturbed mind?

Danger to oneself and family?

Fear of stepping out and living peacefully?

Fear of practicing your religion?

Fear of wearing the clothes, jewellery or makeup that highlight your identity?

Sudden blackouts and loudspeakers from mosques blaring, asking you to convert or flee?

Witnessing killings of prominent members from your community?

Threatening posters stuck outside your homes?

Asking you to leave but keep your women behind?

Rapes of women, infants being killed?

Is this enough to instill fear? Or was/is more needed.

What option would a sane person be left with? Stay? Or leave? Maybe come back once things normalize (only its been more than 30 years, and things on the ground level remain the same).

Belonging to a community that has time and again been branded as cowards, who ran away - I have many times thought about possible solutions or workarounds we had as a minority group in Kashmir. The exodus of 90s was not a sudden affair. As I hear from my parents and relatives, the air in Kashmir was very different months from the dark night of Jan 1990. There was something in the atmosphere, you could not exactly pin point to but feel. There was apprehension and fear. Dapan keh chu gasan wol. Everyone came home early, doors were carefully locked, utmost caution was taken but yet no-one in their wildest dream could have envisioned that they are actually spending their last few months as inhabitants of this land they so dearly loved. 

Soon it started, 14 September 1989 Tika Lal Thaploo - a prominent kashmiri pandit was killed.

Soon after Neekanth Ganjoo, a high courst judge was killed.

Early January 1990, local newspapers carried a message which threatened all Hindu's to leave Kashmir.

Almost in every neighborhood posters were stuck, with threats and names of people on the Hit List.

19th January, the black day in history - in the middle of the night loudspeakers from the mosques called for killings of Hindu's. Asking pandit men to go from kashmir but leave their women behind. Chaliv. Raliv ya Galiv for the motto and one of the slogan. Leave, Convert or Die. Like Sophie's Choice for us.

In Feb 1990, Satish Tikoo a social worker was shot dead.

Soon, Lassa Kaul Director of Srinagar Doordarshan was killed.

In April, Sarwanand Kaul Premi, a poet was murdered.

In June, Girija Tickoo, a teacher was raped and tortured. Her abdomen was ripped and using a saw machine her body was cut in two. Can you imagine the situation being reversed and in this time and era - the kind of wrath it would invoke? I can already see film stars holding placards for the photo ops.

The above mentioned killings are just a few prominent ones, there were many many such incidents of killing, looting and rapes. In a time where there were no telephones or means of communications - my parents tell me they had sleepless nights. Praying fervently that all near and dear ones had made it through the night. After a lot of thought and discussions, many families including mine decided to leave. And no, Governor Jag Mohan or "Indian Agencies" did not ask us to leave as is very conveniently put by the people of Kashmir. 

What else were we supposed to do? How do you argue or face a religious maniac with a gun? There can only be one voice - the sound of the bullet killing you. In the late eighties many of the young Kashmiri Muslims had crossed over to Pakistan to receive training and AK-47s. Young, fueled with religious fanaticism, given guns - they were blood thirsty. Kashmir Pandits were their targets. Yasin Malik, Bitta Karate have confessed on record to killing Kashmiri pandits. Even boasted that they never missed their targets. Needless to say, they received a lot of support from the locals. Treated to lunches and dinners. And so as not to offend them and hence have their wrath on them - the locals never openly condemned the killings of Kashmiri Pandits. But I don't need to tell you all this. The entire world saw what happened in Kashmir in 2006 when Burhan Wani was killed.

Even after the mayhem of 1990 some Hindu families stayed back. But they were given timely reminders that Hindu's are not to stay in Kashmir. Wandhama and Nadimarg massacres in year 1998 and 2003 were an example of this. Kashmir Hindu's were lined up and killed. Even little kids and women were not spared. The youngest casualty was a 2 year old boy. Let that sink in.

ML Bindroo, a chemist who had a very popular medical shop in Kashmir was shot while at work on October 5 2021. This was to be the 5th of the total 7 targeted killings across Kashmir. Even teachers (including a woman) were not spared. People working for the majority on ground level for the betterment of people in Kashmir - ironies of all ironies. How is killing a human being still tolerated? Why are educated people silent about it. At this point I am not even talking about religious angle, is a Human life not worth anything if it doesn't benefit one politically?

The selective silence of the very active "Kashmir Bleeds" brigade is deafening. The people who make hue and cry about human rights violation, internet shutdown and the general "azadi" hullabaloo have zipped their lips and pens. I know, because I have been stalking them obsessively. 

The recent killing could not have come at a worst time. I was reeling under a Kashmir hangover. While I was born there, we left when I was 1 year old. I had visited once in 2000 when my father was posted there. But when I went again just last month, it personally felt like a homecoming. I was drowned in the exquisite beauty of untouched places and felt an unexplainable joy of calling this beauty my motherland. I literally felt at home amongst the ethos of the city. The food, the language, the jokes, the idioms everything was a part of me. I clicked thousands of pictures with traditional outfits.

I came back with memories, lot of happiness, resolutions and the sweet sound of Lidder flowing in my ears.

Only to be jostled with the disheartening news. The pictures, smiles, the Pherans - everything looks like a sham now. The once beautiful memories have now left a sour taste in my mouth. The actions have made it very clear that we can enjoy and experience Kashmir as long as we have a return ticket booked.

Can you feel the pain of visiting your motherland - the land of your deities and ancestors as a tourist?

Love:

Sepo

Afghanistan, Mariam & Laila

If you have been following this blog for long, you would know my obsession with Afghanistan and its people. Ever since I read A Thousand Splendid Suns which continues to be my most favorite book of all time, I have wanted to visit this country that has been traumatized again and again. You can find me rambling about the book and the country  here, here, here, here and here. I know it was/is an obsession. 

With the recent developments in Afghanistan combined with the heart wrenching pictures, I have just not stopped thinking about it. My heart goes out to its people. Especially women and children who are more vulnerable and innocent in all this. This country just does not get any breather. The moment things start to look up for them, a new invasion occurs. The take over by Taliban is however not like any other invasion. The set of rules they come up with are stifling just to hear, to be an actual witness to them is something most of us cannot even fathom. Herat, where at one point of time you could not even stretch a leg without hitting a poet is silent. Books, music, art are being burned. Kabul has lost its sheen. You will not spot women shopping or haggling with vendors. Even if you spot one, she will be accompanied by a man not her other women friends. Walking carefully so as not to trip in her burqa. Chapli kebabs stalls look empty. Fruits although fragrant just don't have the same sweetness.

Invariably I end up thinking about Mariam and Laila. How this news would have affected them? What would have been their reaction to this? I am sure Laila would be livid, angry at how they are closing up opportunities and schools for women. I won't be surprised if she still ventures out alone only to be sent back with lashes from the Taliban. Mariam would make her understand that no good can come out of her anger while applying ointment on her wounds. Aziza would join Mariam and both of them pray for better days. Laila's heart would be so full looking at them. Laila sees more and more of Mariam in Aziza every day. Zalmai is playing with the gun pretending to be Taliban. Laila scolds him and he goes running to Tariq. Tariq soothes him, they say the Babaloo prayer together and Zalmai goes to sleep.

Late in the night as Laila and Tariq lay together, they talk about Afghanistan and their future here. They can hear Mariam singing a lullaby to the children in the next room. Tariq suggests moving to Pakistan for some time, till things get better here. They could go to Muree again. Children would love the fresh air, goats, meadows and snow. Aziza could go to school again. But Laila wants none of it. "How can we betray our homeland like this". "Especially when it needs us the most". Laila wants to stay put, she says she will continue teaching both Aziza and Zalmai at home. They can definitely get books from the black market. there is always a way. They will find a way. Tariq is not so sure, but doesn't argue. He doesn't want to agitate her. Mariam's voice calms and soothes them. Aziza is saying something to Mariam in the next room which makes Mariam chuckle. Laila makes a note to ask what she said to Mariam tomorrow and falls asleep on Tariq's shoulder. 

None of them know what tomorrow might bring.

P.S - I know Mariam is no more, but I refuse to believe it. In my memory she lives on.

Love:

Sepo

The Superwoman Syndrome

Remember last year during the first lockdown, when all of us were suddenly deprived of the comfort that our respective helps bring? It was sure a difficult time for all. The scare of corona, truck loads of work and by work I mean all sorts of work imaginable and possible and to top it all up, everyone in the house traped together without any breaks what so ever.  

However after some time we all did get somewhat acquainted with the entire routine. Hell, we even cooked up different storms in the kitchen. Deprived of favorite foods and bored out of wits - everyone became a chef of sorts. People created pages on instagram to showcase their skills and all the deliciousness they were indulging in right from momos to samosas and everything in between.

It was around this time, right between Dalgona coffee and banana bread ~ that Amul created a cartoon acknowledging the support and extra work that womenfolk were doing. The said cartoon had a lady with a laptop and a kid besides her. She was probable on a work call, keeping an eye on the kid and his homework, while counting the whistles from the cooker in the background. 

I had shared this picture in all the social media handles, it felt good that someone acknowledged the efforts that women do, were doing and had done since forever.

Not realized it at that time but it was what our patriarchal  society has done for centuries. A pat on the back and encouragement to just go on. There are numerous marketing campaigns showcasing and praising the superwomens, super moms who just do it all. Have a career, take care of the kids, manage the homes, parents and inlaws, hit the gym, look like a million bucks and have it all together. With this comes immense pressure on others who question their very existence on why if she can do it why can't I. I can, I will and I must. And there you have it, the cartoon where the man is mysteriously missing. Probably giving his undivided attention to work.

The patriarchy is so deeply encrusted in our minds that we feel extremely guilty if we somehow falter in accomplishing these imaginary goals set for women. I remember having this feeling when I had to employ a cook because of an extremely busy time at work. What didnt help to easy the guilt were comments like "its not really that difficult to cook for two". And uncalled suggestions like "if you wake up early... ". Well have you thought for a second that maybe I dont want to wake up early? There is absolutely nothing wrong in either taking or hiring help. And no one, I repeat no one has the right to shame anyone for doing so.

There are still a lot of things and works that have a gender stereotype attached to it. Cooking, cleaning, taking care of kids is primarily the job of women. And if by any chance a man does invest or help - the woman is considered to be very "lucky". It has become my goal to shatter these gender based stereotypes. And also to NOT be the super woman. Nope. I don't aspire to be a overworked super women.  I'd rather be lazy and happy than be patted on my back and stressful. 

Ladies, please get your men into the kitchen and beyond.  Divide your responsibilities.  Create a chart, a schedule do what ever it takes. Create a good example for your kids. And whatever you do, please don't ask your daughters to get water for her brother. And eat the damn food with the guests, we really need to abolish the women-will-eat-later rule.

Love:

The un - superwomen

Sepo

Gilmore Girls

Have you ever lived in a small town? Somewhere where everyone knows everybody else. There is a lot of gossip and affection. There are different characters, some serious, some funny, some friendly and some irritating. But the presense of each one of them is what makes the whole small town thing cute. There are specific shop where you buy your stationary, your grocery, your cake and your cup of coffee. Now imagine a series centered around this small town with all these eccentric characters and an interesting story line - which takes you for a joyful ride for seven seasons and approximately 150 episodes. Thats Gilmore Girls in a nutshell for you!

Gilmore girls is essentially a story about mother daughter relationship, both named Lorelai, both fun, both coffee horders and junk food connoisseurs. A young mother, the elder Lorelai has a strained relationship with her own parents but must take their help for her brilliant daughter who aspires to be in an ivy league college. This sets up the theme of the series but trust me it has much more to offer. Interesting storylines, cool friends, emotional moments, the love lives of the girls and a very interesting insight into the American education system.

The younger Lorelia is into reading and you will get a lot of must read books from almost each episode. Plus the girls have a friday night movie marathon ritual with a lot of junk food ( well, obviously) which again will introduce you to a lot of classic hits. Almost every episode has a popular movie references which make it all the more interesting. A lot of music as well for all you pop music fanatics. And, a lot of learn in the food department as well - apart from the regular American pop tarts, cheeseburgers, pretzels, tarts and burritos, there are so many other interesting references. Sookie, who is elder Lorelie's best friend and an accomplished chef will have you drooling over her exotic food in many a scenes. I learned many new vegetables and dishes from this series. Namely, Artichoke, Sweetbread (don't google this! )

The series premeired in 2000, so you may find references to a lot of things we no longer use. A pager for example, or how marvelous is online shopping thought to be. But it just adds more vintage charm to the series. I recently started to re-watch Gilmore Girls to escape from all the negative news related to corona, and I must say it does not disappoint! I am enjoying it as much as I did when I saw it for  the first time. Ofcourse, it comes with its flaws - some story lines seem deliberate and unnecessary.  But overall it is an absolute entertainment package.

The series is bound to make you hungry, make sure to keep a big bag to chips right next to you when you start watching Gilmore Girls. And a cup of coffee. Maybe order a pizza while you are at it. Oh and some candy. Some chinese food couldn't hurt either. Umm some doughnuts. You see what the series does to you? Go start watching already!

Stay safe!

Love:

Sepo

The Blame Game

As is with everything else in this country, the current crisis too has been oscillating into the very common playground of politics and blame games. How each section of various groups is using tragedy of common people to build a vendetta, settle scores and pave a way for their future alliances and benefits. It’s the Kumbh mela Vs the last year Tablighi jammat. People are comparing numbers and deaths to prove which one was deadlier. Its political rallies. One party condemns it but that doesn’t stop them from having one of their own the very next day. There is oxygen shortage in hospitals but somehow at the same time there are also free oxygen langers. People are hoarding medicines and life savings drugs and selling them to the highest bidders! Not only this ambulances are charging anywhere between 10k to 50k for distances less than 10km. Crematoriums not to be left behind are also using this opportunity to earn some extra bucks.Talk about making money at the expense of someone’s life. Even things like thermometers are being sold at double their price. I have first-hand experience to this. My thermometer broke and when I called the local pharmacy, he started by saying he had none, gauzing my need and desperation. Towards the very end of the conversation he very casually mentioned that he may have a one but that would cost double the amount. I just did not know what to say. I kept thinking about how if a simple thermometer was open to such bidding, how difficult would it be for the Remidesivir’s and how actually were poor people helpless against this open robbery.

A lot of people and countries have been donating, but have people for a second thought about whether their well-intended gestures are bearing any fruit?

The big private hospitals I hear are hoarding beds and “discharging” patients only when they get a big amount from the rich. Everyone is questioning how government has let them down, no one questions are state leaders or for that matter the people. People are still fighting with each other on how the government they support is wrong. I was apalled at some comments directed at the death news of a journalist who was apparently from a pro government news chanel. The comments were on a picture of him, with his 2 little daughters and people were actually celebrating his death, calling him and his family names. At this time when the country is burning, people are dying - the hatred in the comments literally took my breath away.

People have conveniently forgotten about how they openly flouted all rules, refused to wear masks, had one big party after the other, weddings with no proper SOP followed. I have actually witnessed people laughing and saying how paranoid we are for simply masking or asking to wear a mask or for sanitizing. 

What we don’t understand even after this shit has blown out of proportion is that we ain’t anything. A miniscule virus has shown as that. Plan all you want, do whatever you can but everything can come to a standstill. All your carefully curated plans, all your expensive clothes and shoes, nothing matters. Just stay humble. Stop fighting over petty politics and over Politian’s. All of them are the same. Take care and help each other. Stop believing everything you read or listen in the news. Whether its from a pro government channel or otherwise. Don’t let powerful people sitting at powerful positions sway your opinions. Let humanity be above all.

Double mask up!

Stay safe.

Love:

Sepo

Staying Sane In The Times Of Corona

Last year around this time, newly into the changed world of lockdowns - fueled by the dalgona coffees and all the baking/cooking, I had started to write about things this virus and the subsequent lockdowns taught us. 

Me back then, baking cakes & breads at the drop of a hat!

It was a very positive post about how little we need to survive. And how we are destroying the nature and environment around us by increasing the carbon footprint. To add more on to the topic, I decided to wait a little longer as I was pretty sure - there would be more learnings and experiences to share. Somewhere down the year, the write up got lost amongst the huge list of drafts sitting in my laptops/ phone/ dairy/ back of the shopping list.

Exactly one year later - we have somehow found ourselves in a situation quite similar if not worse. But this time around the virus has wiped out every ounce of positivity from me. The news, social media, general conversations just about everything is centered around the virus. And with that comes the sheer helplessness that surrounds each of these news pieces. The line of ambulances, the lack of beds, oxygen and medicines in hospitals, about how people are not even able to bid a proper farewell to their loved ones. All this has just drained out the living hell out of me.

Plus I am sure now everyone has encountered this virus from pretty close quarters with atleast someone in the family, amongst relatives or friends or colleagues having tryst with this shit of a disease. Of late I have heard about so many sudden deaths from friends and family. And now with the new development of it being airborne the panic and scare around it has multipied.

Personally, all this negative news from everywhere is just making me anxious. Away from parents and loved ones, cooped up inside, same sort of routine everyday. I am sure everyone must be feeling quite blue. Although I am not really an outdoorsy adventurous type who is out partying or going on vacations. Even without covid I am mostly happy being home with a nice book and a strong cuppa coffee. But being taken away of even the option of going out is I guess what is making me restless, sleepless and panicky. Our residencial block is a containment zone with covid patients left, right and center. Since we have been advised to avoid the lifts - It has been weeks since I have even stepped outside the main door. 

Reading is helpful. Getting transported in the story in unfamiliar locale is helping even if temporarily. My bed has become my favorite place to be. And my shitty shit pcos has made my anxiety and mood swings worse than ever. And also my acne.

Now in order to stay sane, I am doing everything thats making me happy. Planting a new plant, applying nail paint, eating a whole pizza all by myself, staying the fuck away from news and social media, reading a lot of books, spending my time scrolling through good reads, waiting patiently for juicy ripe mangoes, following a skincare routine, avoiding these new shitty movies and series - this one story in a latest movie which I made mistake of watching had a scene of putting a baby in a pressure cooker!

These are not normal times. You see even the most strong people buckling under pressure. Depression and anxiety is at all time peak. We recently had someone committing suicide in our team. A perfectly happy jovial person with a toddler. And I guess thats when i realized how we hardly know what goes on in a person's mind and life. We choose to judge and comment on people. We formulate a image of people based on what they share on social media. But reality is different. A person may share a picture of cake they baked, but may feel hollow inside. 

Lets stop being judgement. Everyone has their own battles. Lets help in whatever capacity we can. Help your domestic helps. Pay even if you are not calling them to work. 

Meanwhile I read this article about things that ease out anxiety - it suggested re reading and re watching helps ease out anxiety as you already know the outcomes. So no more of these Ajeeb Dastans for me. I am gonna be watching re runs of .... No not FRIENDS, Gilmore Girls :) 

Coffee, books and some sass. That's exactly what I need right now.

One last thing! Mellisa MacCarthy  in Gilmore Girls was so much cuter with all that extra weight... one more reason to not buckle under the pressure of conformimg to society's idea of beauty and ideal size. 

Phew.

Stay happy and Stay home y'all 

And get vaccinated whenever you can!

Love:

Sepo

The Unfulfilled Resolutions

I had a teeny tiny resolution for last year. To keep this blog updated,  one post per month. Despite the shit storm that the last year was, I managed to keep up with this resolution right until the end. But I faltered toward the very end - the December month post got missed and messed up. And I got so  disappointed that it took me almost 2 months to start writing again.

So, the thing is that I actually had everything planned out for the last post of the year. It was a topic very close to me and since it was a  flash back post - I had all the artifacts keep ready and a draft all set in my phone for a long night of editing. But then I lost my phone. And before you ask no I did not take the backup.

Since I am a procrastinator, all this prep was obviously towards the very end of the month. Next 2,3 days were spend in crying over the lost phone, FIRs, duplicate sim quest and search for a new phone. By this time I was totally drained out of any creative energy and with the draft and artifacts all lost I would have to recreate everything from the scratch.  But for the sake of my resolution, I still planned to write atleast a little something to kind of conclude the year. 

Cut to the last night of the year,  I am working, ah yes and watching Rockstar and planning to write a quick post right after I finish my office work. But just like it was 12 and I was still knee deep in my office work. And the window for my last post of the year was gone, and with it my resolution. In hindsite it was probably not right to spend last night and first few hours of a new year doing office work, coz ever since I have just been working non-stop. Anyhow other than not writing I have spend most of the new year working like a robot, stealing in some time for book reading, a little bit of netflix, zero exercise with has resulted in couple of extra killos straight to my tummy and a lot of pimples.

Now last year is gone and have already lost 2 months for the 1 post per month resolution to be successful.  So we will come up with an improvised resolution for writing whatever and whenever irrespective of whether it makes sense or not. 

The blog for the longest time has been my personal space to vent but as I have started to share it with more people,  I feel like I have lost the freedom to say and write what actually is on my mind. I already have a very people pleasing, non confrontational personality, my writing and this blog was specifically to let me vent out, share what's actually happening inside my brain while I just smile and nod my head.

This year it will be more on speaking err writing fearlessly.

Cheers to that!

Stay safe and wear a mask.

Love:

Sepo

Throwback Post - For the Love of Red

This post was first published on the blog sometime in 2011 or maybe 2012. I had recently been bitten by the fashion blogger bug, and spent a lot of my energy in designing various looks around a single piece of clothing. At this point of time my blogging and blog were quite a hush hush affair, with only my closest friends knowing of its existence. As luck would have it, my tryst with fashion blogging somehow coincided with my darling sister somehow stumbling upon my blog. Fiery phone calls followed and I was strictly told to take down a number of posts and also the blog. Though I put my foot down for the blog I did take down the so called fashion posts. I wasn't too happy with the meddling back then, but in retrospect I am quite glad it happened. In my sister's defence the post she first saw was "5 ways to style a boyfriend (oversized) shirt" and most of the looks consisted of ahem just the shirt and a belt.

Anyhow, now that throwbacks are such a thing with pictures I thought why not do a throwback post. I had hard deleted the other ones but I couldnt for some reason delete this particular one where I styled my red pants multiple ways. So enjoy my old narratives and mediocre pictures.

Here goes:

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Red they say is the color of power but for me it is a color that shouts out FUN! I remember the day I bought myself the Red Pants. We were out shopping for a friend and I spotted them staring at me from a basket. They were on SALE in Westside and the price at which they were available was totally unbelievable. So I took a chance and tried them on, it was that OMG moment when you realize that finally these pants fit and how! They were perfect in every way - price, style, size so there was no reason for not buying them. So I took another chance and bought the Red Pants.

They sat in my cupboard for a considerable period of time but the moment I wore them for the first time, there was no looking back. I fell in love with them and the addiction is such that every time I go off to shopping I make sure that all the Tees that I buy match with my Red Pants. So all the latest shopping material is Red Pant compatible. My love for this look with Red Pant is so dire that I decided to dedicate a post to it. I guess this would be my first post in the genre of Fashion Blogging!

I apologize in advance for the image quality, yes it is that bad ....

This pic is special because it is from the first time I ever wore the Pants.

This is with black with the famous matching of Belt and shoes.

Isn't it adorable the way my pants and couch match!

This is the same white and red combination worn with different shoes and hair !

This is my favorite look, as it contains two of my current favorite things: the pants and the bag. Isn't it an absolute arm/eye candy?

            

Well, that's all I have for now. But I can assure that there is more to come!

Would appreciate more ideas from your side as well :)

Love:

Sepo

October 2020

While this entire year has been a blur, the month of October for some reason was exceptionally quite small. Like one moment, I was here planning winter feasts, writting about something nice for the blog. And the very next moment I take a look at the calender and somehow it's October 31st. I was on the verge of loosing my only resolution this year - the one of writing 12 posts, one for each month. 

Somehow I have managed to keep up with the challenge, with a couple of good posts and some mediocre ones. I kept the blog alive.

I had planned a lot of stuff and ideas. However nothing concrete came out of it. And this month was like crazy busy with work. I am almost clocking in 13- 14 hours every day. My entire schedule has been royally fucked. I am hardly getting any exercise, which is like really bad for my hormonal health. I am hardly making any tasty food. Hell, I am hardly finding time to eat and there's hardly any scope of inspiration in this routine whatsoever for writing. The reading has hitten a slow-down as well. I managed to read through only a couple of pages before dozing off. Hopefully next month should be better. And with so many festivals coming up, it better be!

October is really one of my favorite months, right after the birthday month of February. There is so much anticipation surrounding this month. So many festivals. More often than not there is also always some or the other wedding surrounding this time. Starting with navratri, then Dusshera, closely followed by karvachauth and then finally diwali and bhaidooj-0. I love how the markets are bustling during this time. The lights, exhibitions and that lovely nip in the year. It just smells so delicious.

This year ofcourse is like no other. All the above mentioned activities have either not been done or done with not the usual flare. I missed dressing up in colours for Navratri the most. And the big dandiya nights. Hopefully upcoming festivals though spent safely from home should be a bit better and exciting nontheless.

There is also a very disheartening news of some third wave of corona virus. Don't know when this shit will be over and thinks will be back to normals. However everything said and done, this time period from March to now has definitely taught many lessons. By the way writing about lessons learned from corona and quarantine was also one of the topic I has decided on to write for the blog! But then since it's just not ending, I am not really sure how many more lessons are there in store.

So maybe sometime next month or year! Gosh can you believe it's almost 2021. Sometimes I still feel it's March, the normal times right after which the world as we knew it changed, and how!

Here's hoping for things to get normal and soon.

Till then,

Stay home and safe guys!

Love:

Sepo

The Social Media Detox

September was a quest to stay away from the social media. To say I am addicted to my phone would be an understatement. What I have with my phone is something beyond addiction. This inexplicable need to touch and open my phone at regular intervals and just mindlessly browse through these different social media applications. Sometimes catch an episode of two of the current series that I follow. If you may ask, these days its the re-runs of The Big Bang Theory and Rotten on Netflix. I am really happy that my education was during a period when we were still kind of untouched with the plethora of these distracting mediums available now. However, during my college days – the Facebook craze was at its peak! So, I dutifully deactivated my Facebook 1 week prior to my semester exams and activated it right after coming back from writing my last exam. This sort of self-discipline worked very well for me back then.  

All those working in IT sector would agree that studying and elevating your skills here is a never-ending exercise. Now after cooking, baking, embroidery, other hidden hobbies and all the other quarantine mandate things – it was time for learning some new things in the professional capacity. When I sat down to prepare a plan – I realized that the only way I can manage to fit in sometime for studies is if my some magic I am able to increase the duration of a day from 24 hours to say 26 or 28. Considering the impracticality of that idea I quickly took a dive into the activities of the day and identify the leakages – majority of which where identified to be associated with the phone and the universe of social media it beholds. I hastily decided to do what I did back in college. I deactivated my Facebook and uninstalled Instagram and Pinterest – the major applications I spent my time on according to the statistics on my phone.

The withdrawal symptoms kicked in as soon as I uninstalled the apps. I lost the count of how many times I switched on my phone and scrolled towards the place where Instagram and Pinterest used to be. I had given myself at least 1 week of no FB, Insta time. The first few days were hard. I remember clicking pictures of the food I was having and saving them for later use. But after few days the exercise seemed futile and honestly a bit silly. I mean I heard a voice inside me which said “Bro, just eat the damn thing, no one cares about your picture”. Haha. So, during the one week I did manage to study a bit – which made the exercise a little bit successfully. I also devoured Anne Patchett’s The Dutch House, William Dalrymple’s City of Djinns which made me fall a wee bit love with Delhi (but more on that in one of the next 3 posts remaining for this year). I also started and still reading Chimamanda Adichie’s Half of a Yellow Sun. This woman is fast becoming one of my most favorite authors. Someone who's books I can blindly order without having to read the jest or the reviews. Although I do find her leading ladies a bit flawed and ridiculously similar, but I am ready to overlook that for the other little things she so nails down in her stories.  

An interesting book can help you overcome anything. For me, these three books did the trick. Watching the documentary Social Dilemma further resolved my detox to be extended by the end of the month. TBH, after the strict first week, I did cheat a bit by accessing the applications via the web. But blame it on the interfaces, the time spend was negligible. Also, Chimamanda ensured that any remaining time I had left from work, study, daily chores and reading was spend extensively reading and researching about Nigeria. The Hausa, Igbo and Yoruba tribes. The Nigerian Civil War. And the recipes for Jollof Rice, Fufu’s and Fried Plantains. By the way I have really perfected my research on jollof rice and I am definitely making it next month. Next month because IT MOST DEFINITELY NEEDS TO BE INSTAGRAMMED RIGHT?

My closing thoughts on this topic would be – social media is a necessary evil. Necessary because it gives you so much information. I love the history, book, home décor and the foodie pages I follow on my Instagram. I love those tiny little baby chef pages. I love how some girl will take the pain of creating a video on the best nude lipstick shades for Indian skin tone and looking at it I can just order the one I like reducing my research time. Oh and the memes. I missed the meme pages the most. But how much you want it to dictate your life is in your hands – like literally. The trick is to find a middle ground and not get swayed by mindless browsing. I am still trying to find my middle ground. When I feel I am browsing way too much I simply get up eat a fruit, get hold of my book, study something, apply a face pack or go bug my husband for his unfolded laundry.

All in all, I really liked this social media detox. I may make it a regular feature once a month.

Also, I got a nice blog post out of it, so a win win.

Stay cautious of the Social Media Peeps!

So long.

Love:

Sepo

 

The Rundown: August 2020

It’s going to be a lean post this month.

It has been a crazy last few week. With tight schedule at work and parents visiting, add to that several festivals – I hardly had any moments of peace with myself to introspect. I did not even have a topic in mind to at least formulate something in my mind if not on the paper. Also, I was reading this book called A house without windows by Nadia Hashimi. Since it was based out of Afghanistan – the description, story-line, food, locales, characters – everything reminded me of Thousand Splendid Suns. Now if you have been reading this blog for long, you would know my obsession with Afghanistan, Mariam and Laila. I have written about it here, here, here, here, here and here. Yes, yes, yes – it was/is a huge obsession.

So, any minuscule time that I managed to get in-between all the other madness was spent in reading. I am not complaining though. I had a gala time reading the book. Of course, it’s no Thousand Splendid Suns but good. Also, I had a very disturbing experience of someone copying stuff from my writings. Yet again. This time however it was not at blatant as the previous one. Sneakier and smartly done. In a way that even though I know it has been taken from my blog, I still can’t point my finger to it. And that has just made me so sad. Angry first. But later just sad.

Of late I have seen multiple Instagram posts alleging or complaining about how their content/ideas/posts have been copied by popular Instagram influencers. Since these influencers have large standing and high number of followers, their content and words are taken at face value. And somehow the new budding creator has his/her wings cut. Now, a lot of people are of the opinion that imitation is a form of flattery or they will just throw a “grow a pair” at you, or even dare to ask you to grow a thicker skin. But trust me – it’s a lot easier said than done.

For a creative person there is nothing as devastating as finding someone stealing and posing your work as his own. I fail to understand what makes people to do this. Why would yourself to be a copy of someone, why not be an original? What drives me crazy is when educated people indulge in this deplorable behavior. I am sure all of us knowingly or unknowingly have many a times copied an image from the internet and used it in our documents or presentations. I have many a times done the same. However off late I make it a point to mention the website links wherever possible. If I like something on Instagram, rather than taking a screenshot and saving it for myself, I share it online giving due credit and link to the artist’s profile. I really wish people would respect the content one dares to share online.

I had all these things going on in my mind this month, hence I was unable to write or invest time on anything else. I have decided to maintain a low profile for now. Go easy on the online sharing for my blog. It has always been a very private space and I now intend to keep it that way at least for some time.

Hopefully next month would be a good post month!

Till then so long.

Love:
Sepo

Bullying In School and Beyond

There is a lot that goes about in schools apart from education and sports and all those extra curriculars. There is a lot of politics involved in who you sit with, eat with and mingle with. Who invites you to their birthday parties and who doesn’t. Ooo and birthday invitation cards matter too. If you have seen Mean Girls, you would understand what I am talking about. If you haven’t – Really? You haven’t? Hmph! Please go and watch this cult classic. 

The point is, there is always a crème-de-la crème that exists constituting of the IT girls who everyone wants to be friends with. Now I am not sure about how things work in school colleges anymore – considering there are a lot of changes from the time when I was in school. There was no digitization, no corrupting TV series, no branded clothes, no coffee chains but there was definitely a hierarchy, a lot of group-ism with underlying bullying.

Of course, there was not much understanding on these aspects at that point of time but when I look back, I can totally see it through. The talks about clothes – lack of fashionable clothes mostly during an annual children’s day celebration which was really just a big fashion show. A lot of judgement was passed on till of course the next year and the cycle would continue. Fancy stuff in tiffins, cold drinks in water bottles, vacations at fancy places, occupation of parents – these are just tiny examples which led to a lot of peer pressure. To be fare our school never endorsed any of this. Apart from that one exception for the children’s day, we had to wear our uniforms always – even during PTMs. We were not allowed to wear any jewellery of any kind. Just simple tops for the ears. No chains. No rings. No colored hair. No residue of Kajal. No fancy hairdo. No Step cutting. No flicks. All this was very annoying back then, but when I think about it now… I feel grateful that my school and people involved there cared enough to make the schooling years as comfortable as they could for kids’ comings from different backgrounds.

If you think we leave this toxic culture of bullying, judging, comparing at schools, you are so wrong. This never really goes away. You will always be judged right from a simple dinner party you throw to the dress you choose to wear at someone’s wedding. The stuff you post online, the frequency, your photographs – everything will be discussed and dissected. Some people will even make it a point to bring it to your notice on how you have put on weight or how you are posting a picture of chicken on a Tuesday. Now it totally depends on how you choose to take it. Don’t give a damn about what people say. With age, an added set of responsibilities and an attitude like “You-don’t-pay-my -bills” helps. But it is not fool proof.

Toxic people have a knack on sneaking up on you at most normal of places. They even lurk at your workplaces. I had a real bad encounter with one at the start of my career. This person made a point to make my life at work miserable by a mixture of intimidation, personal comments and other tactics which I understood very late. So much so that I had nightmares about going to office. Panic attacks at the very mention of Mondays. I may also have contemplated leaving my job many a times all because of this person. There were also many crying calls made to friends. I saw this person fish out the same treatment to many other newcomers after me. Not standing up for myself and others, remains one of my biggest regrets ever. Years later I understood that this persons’ bad behavior stemmed up from deep rooted insecurity. An explained need to not feel unwanted or overthrown. Well, what can you really do about that? We are all wired a certain way. And some of us may not even know there’s a fault in the wiring for a long time.

While all this is part and parcel of life, the thing is how do we know where to draw the line? We all may have knowingly or unknowingly hurt someone by comments which we may have thought to be innocent. But how our words affect other person, we have no way to know. All of us are struggling with battles of our own. Some have body issues, some may have anxiety, others may be having an off time at office, some may be struggling to make peace with hormones gone haywire by PCOS. Then there are mood swings and thanks to Corona, most of our work life balance is crazy. All I want to say and practice myself is to be kind. Let’s stop the judgement at least during the pandemic. If someone decides to post a workout video – let them. Cooking escapades – give a like. If they want to play every goddamn challenge from Sarees to B&W pictures- its there wish. Anything that keeps them happy even if temporarily. Let everyone do whatever the hell they want to keep sane.

To be honest I really did not have anything to write about this month. But I was/am very serious about fulfilling my news years resolution of 12 posts this year. One for each month. So, while this month has been very fruitful in terms of my reading goals. There was not much inspo from the writing front. I usually decide on a topic well in advance and then spend many weeks formulating ideas in my brain on how and what needs to be included. And when I sit to write, I slowly elaborate on all the bullet points in my brain. But this time my brain was empty. In the past, during a writer block I usually pranced away to nice pretty café. And a gourmet sandwich and endless coffees later I would have at least a blueprint of a write-up.

Since going out is out of picture now, I did the next best thing – a strong cup of immunity booster tea, some romantic yellow lighting, questionable numbers of pillows to make myself comfy and back to back episodes of Good Girls on Netflix for that perfect background noise. Some time later I had the three paragraphs you read in the start. Not sure from where and which corner of my brain and heart it sprouted…but I have an inkling that it may have something to do with Sushant Singh Rajput’s suicide and the subsequent news items which have refused to die down since then. A part of it also came from this disclosure I read on how these big fashion magazines and brands – mostly led my these entitled young adults who feel they run the world – indulge in all kinds of shitty behavior.

All I can say to conclude this haphazard post is – Never do something that you may regret in future. Neither to yourself nor to someone else.

Live and let live

Love:
Sepo