The process of raising kids has changed drastically over the years—while our parents never worried about buying us expensive gadgets when we were young; 5-year-olds these days know how to use iPads like a pro. When I was their age, my biggest aim in life was to go out and get dirty while wrestling with my friends in the mud without getting a sound thrashing from my mother. So it’s extremely intimidating when I read about pre-teen kids developing and releasing apps on Playstore and App Store and whatnot store!
On this Independence Day, four wives talk about what it really means to be married to men in India’s Defence Forces
“A few seconds separate life from death” — Avantika Agarwal
The date was February 19, 2013. It was a chilly winter evening when the mobile beeped and I received a text message. “I was 5 months pregnant when I got that text message from my husband at 7:30 PM. 3 words—Ejected. I’m fine.” says 31-year-old Avantika Agarwal, wife of fighter pilot, Wing Commander Gaurav Bikram Singh Chauhan VM and mother to a 14-month-old baby boy. “This was followed immediately with a phone call, which lasted less than a minute—not enough time to get answers to the hundreds of questions in my head, but enough to know that he was fine.”
The gap between them in the double bed was huge.
She turned around to watch him sleep in the other corner with his back towards her. She had a sudden urge to reach out and hug him from behind—ruffle his curls a little and doze off back to sleep. But, she didn’t. She kept staring as her eyes welled up a little.
It’s been this way for a while now. The everyday bickering, blame games and threats. Exactly two years back when they had decided to move in together in this house, the double sized bed used to look like a joke. Both used to sleep tangled with each other—the kisses wouldn’t stop, nor would the smiles. What changed? Continue reading
An open letter to my dad on Fathers’ Day, telling him things I’ve never before put into words…
When was the last time I wrote a letter to you? I think it was when I was 7, and had learnt letter-writing in English class. Remember that phase? I used to write handwritten letters to everybody-from classmates in school to family members to friends who lived down the street, to my grandparents and all our relatives. And instead of stopping me, you diligently put stamps and posted them for me. Thanks, Dad. Maybe that was the start of my future career as a writer. Continue reading
They had met after ages. She had come down to Bombay after almost a year and a half. But it felt like just yesterday. It always feels like just yesterday. They pick up from where they leave it. Each time. Or sometimes, they start afresh.
Smoke. Loud music. Hazy lights.
They were standing in one corner of the club, giggling and guzzling down beer. Her eyes shone like a bright star. The multicolored lights created abstract patterns on her face. He looked into her kaleidoscope eyes. Continue reading
Hi. So, where do you think this blog post is heading towards? [Pssst.. quick hint: Doom.]
They were inseparable. Madly and passionately in love. You know what they say about two bodies but one soul? Her morning used to start with his ‘good morning’ texts and his day used to end with her sweet nothings. The touch of his hand used to give her shivers. The look of her eyes used to stop his breath. Continue reading
It’s like, as if a really fat elephant is sitting on my chest. The pressure is unbearable. I take out yet another cigarette and light it. My hands tremble. Continue reading
We all know about mid-life crisis. It is well talked about, written about and discussed pretty often. But what about when you turn 25? What about the time when you’re neither young enough to party till wee hours of the morning and not old enough to brush your kid’s hair and get her ready for school? You got it, mate. That’s the quarter life crisis. Continue reading
I always thought there are two kind of filmmakers in Bollywood. One who make films that they believe in, for themselves, without worrying about big budget or stars, like say, a Anurag Kashyap or Dibakar Banerjee. And then there are filmmakers who make mindless mass ‘entertainers’ in order to boast about a 100 crore profit, like, a Sajid Khan or Rohit Shetty.
And then, I met the third kind. Continue reading