Part Of Being Sane Is Being A Little Crazy

This post originally appeared in Women's Web:  Arranged Versus Love Marriage: Here's Why Things Are Changing In 21st-century India, change is so rapid that we barely have time to get used to something before some new trend is on the horizon. And I'm not just talking about technology here. Whether it is human behavior, relationships, societal or cultural norms, Indian society – along with the rest of the world – today is hardly recognizable to my parents or their parents. It's not a surprise that the institution of marriage and the process of finding a life partner is also undergoing a metamorphosis. Perhaps this is one of the areas where the gap between generations is the most obvious. Almost every day, there is a TV show or media report or blog post talking about arranged vs. love marriages. So I figured I would present my take on it as well! Whenever anyone talks about arranged versus love marriages - I don't know why they are always portrayed as opposing

Being a pretty outspoken atheist and feminist, I am frequently engaged by people in debate regarding these topics. Although I am non-confrontational by nature, it annoys me when people use straw man arguments or stereotypes to dismiss the feminist movement. Countless times I have debated with friends on the misogynistic attitudes prevalent in India and perhaps the most frustrating issue I have come across is when men point to small victories and say that there is no need for feminism or gender equality anymore. I recall an incident when one of my friends tried to argue that dowry is not actually a social evil since it allows women to get a part of their parents' property. Although I exploded internally, I tried to patiently explain to him that a better way to go about it would be to make sure daughters and sons share inheritance equally, instead of pursuing a practice that leads to further discrimination or abuse against women! The fact that even today countless female babies

Tia “Tia darling! So nice of you to come to my party, it’s been a long time since we met at that charity event!” exclaimed Mona, handing her a glass of wine as soon as she entered. “You look fabulous, my dear!” replied Tia, “So I take it you like the new DSK Spring collection?”, indicating Mona’s brand new designer gown. “Really? Thank you! I remember what you said about me not wearing pink, so I bought this green dress. Anyway,” she said, dragging her farther into the room, “You know most of the people here I expect. I’ll talk to you later, I have to check up on the caterer now.” Someone hailed Tia and she was soon busy with her regular cronies. She wouldn’t have come here if not for Mona, who was one of the few people she felt comfortable with. She disliked crowds but hated being alone even more so. Ten years of homeschooling could do that to a person. She could still recall the day she was kidnapped from school as a young child of 8. The police eventually caught the crim

Sana Sana hung up the phone and hurried onto the set. Thankfully the director hadn’t finished yelling at the technicians, so the rest of the models for the shoot were still lounging at the far end of the room. She sank into a sofa next to Maddy, relieved that her sister had taken the bad news well. She’d really been looking forward to meeting Abhay after such a long time but this shoot couldn’t be postponed. Damn her manager for doing this without consulting her! Raj had been her first agent when she started her career and she had no complaints about him, until a year ago that is. He’d started behaving oddly, pushing her to do more campaigns than she liked and booking ramp shows without so much as asking her. Yet despite working a hectic schedule, her bank accounts weren’t growing. Whenever she asked anything about her finances, Raj would put her off saying that her investments were doing well and not to worry. But she did worry. She had thought of asking Nihar for help but

Nihar Nihar came home from the spa to find her son Abhay closeted with his grandmother, doing his homework. She sank into a chair and silently thanked her MIL for being at home to keep him occupied until Nihar came home from work everyday. Her husband Sudhir had suggested that his mother should move in when Nihar was pregnant, since her own mother had died more than a decade ago. At first she had been apprehensive - even though they got along with each other - that living together might be a problem but everything had worked out rather well. Still, she had a nagging feeling that Abhay was more attached to her than Nihar or his father. Sometimes she felt that Abhay treated his parents as nothing more than a way to get nice toys and ice cream. They tried to spend as much time as possible with him in the evenings but there weren't enough hours in the day. By the time she came back home, she and Sudhir were both exhausted. It wasn't just family time either. She honestly

Diya Diya forced herself to relax while the attendant spread a mud pack on her face. She’d been nervous all week thinking about today. This was totally unlike the little beauty parlour she went to every month for eyebrow threading and the occasional haircut. No, this was a spa and they didn't just cut hair here. They styled it. And that was only the beginning of all the treatments a woman could get done. Normally she would have been too intimidated to even set foot inside, let alone enquire about the prices which she was sure would be too high for her budget. But this visit was a gift from her dear mother for her 30th birthday. Luckily for her, the gift card was for a particular package which meant she would not be gaping like a fool at the exorbitant rates. Once again, Diya tried to relax telling herself that these women were being paid by her. She employed them and as much as she was sure they were secretly laughing at her naiveté, Diya wasn’t the one working for a living