“I Love You If….”: The Transactional Love of an Indian Man
Indian men can be supportive, understanding, generous as long as you fit a certain idea of womanhood. This love is transactional.
Womanhood
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How To Love Yourself (Because The World Won’t)
Cliches, clichés. Cliches are the cliché of every woman’s life. Our worlds are constructed on set-in-stone clichés. Even transitions are clichéd, at specific times, in defined ways. You know what the biggest cliché of an empowered, modern woman’s life is? “Love yourself.” Nobody tells you how this is to happen,…
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“One ticket, please”: Why I Love Solo Dates
Going solo is a constant journey of self-discovery. I started mine with a movie ticket for one. A friend said she’d never do that. Then she surprised me.
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Dress Restrictions: Equal Opportunity Offense
Yesterday I was denied entry into a building. I was there to attend a business event, peopled by serious professionals. The reason for my not being allowed admission is that I was wearing a dress. I think the details of the dress are not important but anticipating debate on that,…
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Scared Of Nobody
You never quite realize how much you live under fear until you break free of it. I am not scared of anybody.
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Warrior Woman
I think a lot of women are programmed to play Florence Nightingale. That’s why the idea of the tormented, disturbed man fascinates so many of us. It’s a cringe-worthy but true fact that the protagonist of the bestselling ‘Fifty Shades of Grey‘ is nothing more than a self-obsessed, abusive, damaged…
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I Wear: Oppum Dishpa Style
I spent a crazy five months jumping back into (and subsequently falling off) the ratrace. But it wasn’t without its moments. And people. Dispha is one of those delightful ones that people never tell you about when they’re scaring you about the perils of working life – a colleague who…
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Sometimes Does Yes Means No?
Consent is a layered, nuanced thing. How do we even begin to consider it in a world where some of us are not allowed to say NO?
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A World Of Pain
How am I? It’s pain like I cannot even begin to articulate. So much that I’m numb. A thick sheet of plastic over a boiling cauldron of black, festering poison. That’s me.
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The Novelty Girl
So I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the pattern of my relationships, the kind of men I attract and so on. All my associations with men, the minor flirtations and the serious relationships alike follow a pattern. They’re drawn to my quirkiness, my ‘oh my God, did she…
