August 24, 2025

Indian Attires – Dressing Up In Style


Nowadays,  I see girls and boys mostly in jeans or trousers paired with shirts or t-shirts.

Saree was our dress code in the office. Every Indian state has its respective style of wearing saree. Wearing a saree with front pleats and pinned up pallu (the other end of the saree) at the shoulder was first introduced by  the womenfolk of the renowned poet, Rabindranath Tagore’s family. The style was popularized particularly by the ‘modern’ girls from the Brahmo Samaj who broke away from tradition. They wore the saree with lacy, long blouses, socks and boots. The beauty of saree lies in its versatility. The way you tie reflects your personality.

A modern girl in saree

Salwar/churidar kurta along  with contrast, matching, colourful or embellished dupattas draped over shoulders looks gorgeous. The fusion wears, much in fashion, are also good with or without dupatta. At times a stole wrapped around makes a statement.

A girl in blue Salwar Suit with her friend in an embroidered Churidar Kurta. Both carry dupattas or long scarves in different ways. The third girl is wearing a palazzo with a short kurti.

Skirts have come back in fashion worn with long kurtas/kurtis and smart shawls. They look dressy and stylish.

A girl in Skirt and Kurta with a matching Stole

Nowadays wedding attire is not restricted to traditional outfits. It’s designer lehenga/choli for the brides and sherwani for the grooms.

Men in crisp cotton pajama/churidar/dhoti and kurta look very elegant. So does pathaani suit. Dhotis again are tied differently in different states. To make it easy stitched dhotis , like stitched sarees, are available in the market which has to be just put on like a pair of trousers. But those who know how to tie a dhoti or a saree prefer unstitched ones. I like the dhoti worn Bengali style the most.

I have taken this photo of the renowned poet, writer and  film personality Gulzar Sahab from Pinterest in his signature
white Kurta Pajama

From Pinterest: Sikhs have a strong sense of style. This boy is dressed in Churidar Kurta

From Pinterest: Pathaani Suit

From Pinterest: Bengali actor Anirban Bhattacharya in Bengali style Dhoti Kurta

The mekhala chaador of Assam is a very graceful representation of the ethnicity of the North-east. It can be worn the traditional or the saree style. Both look eye catching and beautiful.

From Pinterest: A girl in Mekhala Chaador

South Indians  carry a veshti with immense grace and style. Men pairing it with bush shirts or half shirts combine casualness with dignity.

From Pinterest: A South Indian actor in Veshti and Half Shirt.

When I used to travel by Metro I saw many pretty faces in  hijaab. They looked lovely fusing tradition with modern wear.

In India everyone has their individual style quotient and varied dressing styles from traditional to western to fusion to experimental. It’s very pleasing to the eye colourful as well as dramatic. And if it’s a festive occasion you will see men and women of every age and ethnic group dressed to dazzle.

A little boy in Bengali style Dhoti Kurta

Pics are from Pinterest and AI generated

Posted by on August 24, 2025 in Come To India, FASHION and tagged , , , , , .

11 Comments

August 23, 2025

Cyber Phonies


Cyber crime is on the rise. The agencies of the Government are constantly cautioning the public through sms, recorded telephonic messages, You Tube reels and other such readily accessible means to not fall prey to these criminals. Yet, there are incidents of even the educated and the enlightened getting cheated by miscreants.

The thugs bewitch by offering  attractive investments, cheap property deals, free membership in luxury hotels, affordable stays in exotic resorts, lucrative tax benefit plans and the likes. They even dress up like cops and judges, video call innocent people, admonish them for committing imaginary crimes, scare them of dire consequences and extort money as a way out. Needless to say the amount extorted is exorbitant.

One evening I received a call from an unknown number. The caller asked me whether I worked in the Intelligence Bureau (IB). When I answered in the negative he disconnected. Soon after I received a call from my friend. When I shared this odd incident with her she told me it was a fraud call and that I should be careful in future.

A few days later I received a WhatsApp message from an unknown number stating that the messenger knew that I was definitely working in the IB.  This was followed by a phone call. Now the caller adopted a threatening tone as though working in the IB was a very big crime. This time I was also prepared to reply back and asked him what was his problem if I did work there. He quickly put the phone down and never got back again.  But from that day onwards I stopped picking up unknown calls.

However, in doing so sometimes I missed important ones too. So I decided to pick randomly to ensure that I don’t ignore expected callers whose numbers are not saved on my phone.

On one such recent occasion, a boy from a Call Centre, called up to say that I was caught red handed committing a heinous crime of sending wrong messages and pictures from my phone to other women. If I could, I would have happily strangled the boy over  phone. My reply was, accordingly, very much on the offensive. The boy must have been new in the ‘business’. He sounded a bit diffident and on hearing my aggressive reply quickly disconnected.

I sometimes wonder who these people are and what their faces are like on the other end. Are they into these shady jobs because of not being suitably employed or they just want to earn a few quick bucks. The boy seemed to be really working in some busy Call Centre because I could hear other voices (mostly female) in the background. He spoke to me in hushed tones which meant either he was playing a prank or trying his luck. In both the cases it was absolutely unpardonable.

With regard to the earlier call I still can’t figure out what is so criminal about working with the IB. In fact it would have been a dream come true. Moreover, had I actually been part of Intel it would have taken no time to trace the call and take some needful action.

Posted by on August 23, 2025 in A PROTEST A LAMENT, Espionage and tagged , , .

13 Comments

August 22, 2025

Pain And Relief


While going through the recent spate of  surgeries I realised how afraid I was of pain. I also realised that it’s not just the pain but the confounding bag of emotions attached to it that complicated matters more. The slightest prick of the needle was good enough to open a floodgate of  memories of all the agonies I had gone through in life. I was surprised how I had stashed these painful experiences in some corner of my mind and how they tumbled out as I suffered now.

To the extent whenever some procedures were to take place my first question would be “Will it be painful?” At times the surgeon would be at a loss because my reactions were far worse than the amount of discomfort the procedure actually entailed. Even if it were a pin prick my entire body would stiffen making it more excruciating and unbearable. Had I been able to relax , I guess, it could have been little less painful.

But I was so stressed out. Not by the enormity of what I was going through now but by the cumulative effect of all the memories of physical pain that I had endured at different phases of life.

I had long spells of illnesses made longer by delayed diagnosis. Needless to say it was most agonising. I may have forgotten the gory details but what I vividly remember is the trauma of acute pain associated with that journey. Now that I was suffering the only thought that played on a loop in my mind was, “No! Not again.”

Life has a pattern. A set of similar experiences tend to repeat itself at intervals confirming that “this is the way it has to be with me”. It is this conclusion that stays and plays in the mind whenever something unpleasant happens. In my case it was medical exigencies.

Now in hindsight I realise I suffered more because I could not dissociate myself from the past. The tendency to hold on to bad memories was my undoing. What was happening to me now was serious and intolerable no doubt. But it was made worse by the fact that I saw it in continuity of my previous sufferings. In doing so I cumulated my agony. It was an ordeal aggravated more by my flawed perception.

All great thinkers have time and again given the same message: to let go. We often hear our elders tell us to let go when we are unable to forget a bad incident. Do we really let go? No. We think we have. But what we actually do is to push it in some dark recess of our minds and think we have gotten over it.  When something dreadful  happens our minds pull these hidden memories out and replays them so as to make the situation more distressful.

Unless we know how to control the mind, which is like a monkey, it will involuntarily behave that way. That is how the mind functions. But we have another wiser layer to us which can tell the mind to shut up. To not give in to what the mind insinuates. However we seldom have the sense to do so.

Exigencies overwhelm us. Pain intimidates us. It is disorienting, terrifying, tormenting and weakening. More so because we are unable to think clearly. The emotions attached to bodily pain do not let us. That is why emotional detachment from the body is so important. As I write I remember what I have heard from great speakers. We suffer because we are so deeply attached to our body. We identify ourselves with our body. But we are just not the body. We are beyond body and mind.

On calmer days, believe me, I repeated these to myself again and again. But to no avail.

Reading books, listening to lectures and cogitating over it are all very good and should be incorporated in our day to day routine. But imbibing these teachings in the truest sense, so that we remain unmoved by the ups and downs in life, requires a lifetime of practice. It does not come overnight. If I were able to be stoic in suffering it would have really been a litmus test of my inner evolution.

Disgorging from the past is very important. To remind oneself repeatedly what is happening is only now. The past is no more. So no need to bring it back. To cleanse oneself of bad memories is real decluttering. In orbit of life we come across both – the pleasant and the unpleasant. But surprisingly what we hold on to is the bad. The good is there somewhere. But it pales before the bad. Why? I guess our mind needs serious rewiring. Not once. But time to time. Forgetting perhaps is undesirable. But to really obliterate all the bad, all the pain that has been caused is the actual therapy needed. Not easy but necessary. In not doing so we inflict more pain on ourselves than what is preordained.

My goal is to depart from this world without any bitterness or baggage. I think this is the only way I can free myself accepting that I may suffer again but I will react to it a little more positively, patiently and without bringing up the past

All that happens with us leaves us a little wiser and stronger. This suffering too was a path to learning. I am revising the lessons learnt. And will keep on doing so till it sits inside like a rock.

This is healing.

Posted by on August 22, 2025 in Healing, Healing - A Journey, Health Care, Learning and tagged , , , , .

26 Comments

August 21, 2025

Window


This is in response to Esther’s weekly writing Prompt

This week’s Prompt is Window

They live in the slums

where their breath mingles with

sweat mingles with dirt mingles with

the will to live on

in window less rooms

of the size of a palm

But when the clouds pour

they dance in the puddles

with cries of joy

naked souls running wild

against the wind

the torn shirt billowing

like a kite as they skip,

prance and jump

with that rainbow smile

in their eyes

They don’t have a window

to call their own

but they do have their own

fistful of sky

Posted by on August 21, 2025 in Poem, POETIC MUSE, POETRY, Prompt Write, Writing On Prompts and tagged , , , , , .

10 Comments

August 20, 2025

FF: The Sign


This is in response to Rochelle’s photo prompt for Friday Fictioneers.

Word Count : 100

The Sign

Whistling I drove. It was Friday. Plans for the weekend.

Slowing down I took the turn across the red brick building  fronting  the high rise. There were three road signs – left and right turns and parking.

Suddenly, a hand thrust out.

A traffic cop in blue and white uniform.

I pulled over.

“You have broken the law, ma’am,” Stern admonition. Puckered brows. Artfully chosen words , “It’s no entry. You are fined”

Out the car, I looked around confused.

“But where’s the sign?”

“Oh that!” He waved disparagingly, ” Blown away by yesterday’s storm.”

With that he punched out the challaan.

***

(98 Words)

(Challaan is the fine ticket).

You can read the other stories here.

Posted by on August 20, 2025 in Friday Fictioneers Flash Fiction, Writing On Prompts and tagged , , , , , , .

24 Comments

August 20, 2025

Expectations


My Department was quite aware of the fact that I loved to write. However, what they couldn’t discern was that writing for myself and writing for official purposes were two different activities. Somewhere the distinction blurred and often my superiors, and at times colleagues too, wanted me to write a piece for their personal or official benefit. The request was usually with the tagline “you are so good at it.”

I obliged not because I was flattered but because it’s hard for me to say no if  anyone came up with a need or reason to be helped out. Not to say I haven’t suffered bitter consequences on account of this shortcoming but more of that later.

With colleagues, I could bid time. I never said no and tried to help as much as possible. But the problem rose with superiors who thought writing was a then and there thing. Generally the request was with a huge amount of urgency. It was difficult to make them understand that one required a particular mindset, time and least amount of disturbance to write. It was just not putting pen to paper or tapping away on the keyboard. It was a process of reinventing your own self. How could you do that when the write was not yours. The thought was not yours. The urge to let out was not coming from within.

How would I know in a speech or an article what my boss or Head of the Department wished to say when I was not aware of his thoughts on the matter. So I had to ask  what he/she wanted to say on the subject. Out came the nuggets. Here was the crucial point. How they would like to say it. Directly or indirectly, implicitly or explicitly. Many times it so happened that I would write the way I understood which did not fit into the idea of what the deliverer of the piece had in mind.

So, they would ask me to modify the write. The whole process, as a result, became time consuming and a hindrance to my daily output. More so because I was not one with what I was writing.

And then there were those who made it a point to fiddle with what I wrote without making any substantial contribution. A comma here , a full stop there, correcting  grammatical errors where there were none. I put up with it quietly so as not to be mistaken as a show-off.

Once, one of my HODs said that she felt hesitant to make changes in my drafts as I was an ‘established author’. I assured her that it was quite okay. Not because she was my Departmental Head but the fact that I usually got carried away while writing it was important to have a  detached and neutral review of what I put on paper. Also, they being more experienced might have a perspective on the issue which I was not aware of, overlooked or never thought of.

Writing for official work is way different than writing for one’s own self. Again it depends on the type of write necessitating different forms of expressing. I may have an entirely exclusive format for a story. Poetry is a different cup of tea altogether. I enjoy a freer hand in my blog space. But for a speech to be delivered in a public forum I’d rather be more measured. An article for a magazine or a brochure holds your hand tight.

One of my hard taskmasters of a boss once remarked, “English is a very funny language. A word here and a word there can alter the meaning of a sentence altogether.” Working with him, though it was a pain, I realised how true it was. A tweak here and a tweak there and lo  the very meaning of a note or a memo or minutes of a meeting changed drastically. I also realised how nuanced one had to be while working on official papers. However, in contrast to his own wise statement I found him mostly relying on the cut and paste method from pre-approved notes with the bizarre hope that it would see his in-hand-proposal a better chance of getting through.

As against the dynamic process of writing expectations are quite static. People who have expectations of you seldom think whether it is right to expect from a person who may or may not have reservations to take up a task asked for. With immediate family, friends and relatives you do have an option to explain yourself. With peers and colleagues you still have a chance. But in a hierarchical relation it’s more a unilateral understanding that you will deliver the goods without any qualms.

Perhaps I was too approachable which over the time I realised had its own merits and demerits. I have now learnt if not to say no then at least put in my two bit to make my position clear. Like my nephew, who is a deeper thinker than I am, would delve in to gauge whether that makes him a better person, I’d rather go with the peace and comfort that being vocal brings me.

In short, it’s work without wordlessly warring with yourself.

Posted by on August 20, 2025 in A SHORT ESSAY, Confession, Learning, OPINION and tagged , , .

23 Comments

August 18, 2025

Music Of Rain


I listen to the rains

A splash on the street

A plonk on the leaf

A trickle down the bark

Tap dance on the roof

Umbrellas wade by

A paper boat glides

A half open bud

With a moist blush

Sequins on the stem

Like stars they gleam

A pause … a hush

Then a sudden slush

A rhyme a rhythm

Just there…now it isn’t

Clouds hang low

A misty wind blows

I inhale the petrichor

A wee little more

The wetness the romance

Let the world freeze

In this serene stance

A wisp of a song

Breeze carries along

No hurry … No rush

Hold the fracas

Just Enjoy and groove

With all your heart

As God’s fingers play

The symphony of

Mozart

This is in response to the Prompt on

Sadje’s #WDYS

Posted by on August 18, 2025 in POETRY, Prompt Write, Writing On Prompts and tagged , , , , , .

35 Comments

August 18, 2025

Suspicion Of A Poem


It was in the year 1943 that the rebel of a poet, Sahir Ludhyanvi, wrote these lines :

ये महलों ये तख्तों ये ताजों की दुनिया

ये इंसा के दुश्मन समाजों की दुनिया

ये दौलत के भूखे रवाजों की दुनिया

ये दुनिया अगर मिल भी जाए तो क्या है?

ये दुनिया अगर मिल भी जाए तो क्या है?

The poem was made into an equally famous song for another classic, rebellious Hindi film, Pyaasa (The Thirsty), sung soulfully by Mohammad Rafi Sahab.

The poet says :

This power hungry world where every society is the enemy of humanity. This wealth- mongering world of empty rituals. Even if I acquire this world so what ?

Poetry is the mirror of society. Seldom there is a poet who does not give voice to his/her dissent to what contemporary society stands for in its political, social, economic context.

Gulzar Sahab, is one of my favourite poets, of modern times. In the anthology, Suspected Poems, he expresses his  disappointment in the conspicuous absence of contemporaneity and relevance of democracy even after seventy years (now more) of independence of the country. He is hesitant to call these open verses as poems lest his free voice is held as “suspect” by the vested interests.

Pawan K Varma, is a politician, author and former diplomat. Ironically, the poems written in Hindi by Gulzar Sahab are translated in English side by side by him in this very anthology.

I quote a few lines (translated) to underscore the flavour of this unique book.

There is nothing really

new in New Delhi

Except that every five years a

new government comes in

The factuality of the statement belies the intransigence of apathy. A city where nothing changes except the face of the government.

But how can we talk

of a paradise

That is not yet in sight?

So come, let’s keep walking,

and talk about our country!

The phrase “let’s keep walking” is allusive of a journey which has not yet culminated into the aspired destination.

His hand has slipped

from my grasp

He is lost in the multi-

tudes of this town

The search is on for

the common man

A search for a person missing!

In the vortex of  intricacies of powerplay it is the common man who is perennially at sea.

Somebody is distributing

seats, another is pulling

chairs away;

No one moves ahead,

or steps aside.

I am caught in a traffic jam

For the last seventy years!

The dystopia is epitomised by the phrase “I am caught in a traffic jam for the last seventy years”  indicative of a state of  stagnation akin to death.

Maybe a writer, perhaps

some intellectual

Someone had asked

him for his views

And then cut off his tongue!

An assumptive yet dreadful predicament – ruthless strangulation of the strength and freedom of expression which is not in tandem with the power be.

Who will climb up to clean

this seven-coloured rainbow?

It looks black, enveloped

in a thousand cobwebs.

The abjectness of the lack of alternate ideosphere required to infuse the ‘colour of rainbow‘ to the horizon of the future.

When lines were only

etched on the palm

They told our destiny

We kept them closed in a fist;

When they are drawn

on the ground

They cut across oceans,

countries, homes and hearths.

Divisiveness in society is an annihilation of humanity. It cuts across people’s hearts and hearths.

Passengers have no say

In the arrival or depart-

ure of the train

Depends on the driver

Who runs the locomotive

of democracy

Entirely according

to his whims

The saddest devolution  wherein the keystone of democracy is hammered to  dust by the absence of visionary direction and political will.

The work of the poet is to nudge the readers gently and at times harshly.  To compel them to not overlook the rude realities shoved under the carpet of glossy rhetoric. To impel them to whip up harmonious discussions and healthy debate till it becomes the clarion call and a change agent for definitive action.

Posted by on August 18, 2025 in Books, FOR A CAUSE, Spreading Awareness, TALKING ABOUT BOOKS, Talking Of Books and tagged , , , , , , .

8 Comments

August 16, 2025

Thumb Rules – A Note To Myself


I realise past sixty there are certain ground rules you need to follow. At least I do. First and foremost stop multi-tasking because in doing so you are invariably going to burn down the curry on the stove. I did this morning. As a reminder for the future and also as a self inflicted punishment, I decided to eat that charred and hideously tangled concoct of potato and sponge gourd. It was not that bad to taste though the point was definitely made home.

Secondly, don’t squeeze too many things in your to do list of the day because by the end  nothing will get done except constantly worrying about finishing so many things in such  a short time. And of course that devilishly tempting movie on Netflix is inevitably going to bewitch  digressing you from the path of Right Deed.

Thirdly do that cycling in air religiously as that is what is going to keep your bones and  joints moving, howsoever, boring and tiresome that may be. Yes, to be fit you need to exercise.

Fourthly, break down the most tedious job into teeny-weeny morsels so that you can at least move a tiny step forward than forever procrastinating.

Fifthly, don’t try to show off your Tarzan-ic skills. Those days are gone. Better accept it than land up in bed with a thousand aches and pains. Don’t tire your mind and body. If any chore seems overwhelming sleep over it. Find a simpler and easier way of doing it rather than climbing the mountain on the steeper side.

Sixthly, though it may not sound that lucrative, do try to follow a routine. It’s important. This is a point in life where one has the tendency to slip into lethargy and apathy. A precursor to vegetating. Therefore a strict abidance to a preset timetable can keep you on toe, give that required zest to life and the purpose to get up and going in the morning.

Forgetfulness is a known evil. It is a sneaky thing. You will never know when you have given in to it. So start journaling. Or perhaps include writing a daily post on your day to day activity. That walk, that reading, those forms to be filled up in the bank, the groceries… Note down and like a checklist  tick them off one by one when done. Once you revisit those pages later a sense of achievement will sweep through.

As some physical exercise is a must so is mental alacrity. Crosswords and Sudoku are proven indulgences to ward off dementia. So is puzzle solving, finding hidden words as in Wordle, Waffle, Squaredle or Strands. All available online.

Engagement in creative activities also keeps the mind young and vibrant. There are hordes of them. Just pick the one which suits you best. Gardening, painting, pottery, sculpting…

I guess learning new things also keeps you agile and in spirit. Something which you have long craved for but never found time. Now is the time to go for it.

Past your prime you should have more leisure than worry. However, life does have a way of creeping in. Deal with it in the way that your comfort does not get compromised.

I write this post as more of a referral to myself. So that whenever I blunder I come back to this page and rehash my memory.

As I wizen up more in time I will add to the list… perhaps a fresher post….a new referral may be.

Posted by on August 16, 2025 in Confession, I ME & MYSELF, Learning and tagged , , , .

20 Comments

August 15, 2025

Microfiction I


This is in response to Esther’s Writing Prompt: Can you tell a story in 46 words.

The story has to include the following words :

Dumbfounded

Vitamin

Waterfall

Thumb

Garlic

My contribution

I was dumbfounded. How could a waterfall be contaminated? Thumb-ing through the box I found the pill and some vitamins. Also a piece of garlic to gulp on the safer side. They call me a hypochondriac. But I am just being cautious you see.

***

(44 Words)

Posted by on August 15, 2025 in Microfiction, Writing On Prompts and tagged , , , , , .

13 Comments