My Diary Pages

Who else can teach a young boy about the meanings of 'consent' and 'harassment' better than his own mother? (Image credit: Pixabay) I came across an interesting article in The New York Times last month about a group of mothers defending their sons who had been accused of sexual assaults at college campuses. In the U.S., the guidelines on campus sexual assaults had been pretty stringent so far. However, these guidelines have been blamed to presume the accused students as guilty, who are usually suspended or expelled from the college campuses for a certain amount of time. Needless to say, most of the accused are men.   These mothers are on a mission to save their sons who, they believe, were “wrongly accused.” As protective mothers, they had compelled the college authorities to relook into their sons’ charges. Some of them consider themselves as feminists and hold opinions that how girls today have misconstrued the definition of sexual assault.  

A new destination, a new road.  (Image from Pixabay) Through out my life, I have always been on move; never sticking to a place for long and trying to adjust to new surroundings. So when I needed to move to Irving, Texas in early 2016, I just packed my bags without any thoughts. After all, I had lived across six states in India while surviving through different schools, colleges, and jobs. "It’s no big deal," I said to myself. I was wrong. The moment I came out of the airport, it took me a while to realize that the cars on the road were driving on the right side. Back in my country, we drive on the left side of the road! Right there, I froze. It was definitely not love at the first sight. Whenever I start residing at a new place, I try to look out for some elements in my surrounding that were common at the places I lived before. Funny as it might sound but it brought me some comfort on staring at a tall, rusty, dimly lit streetlight standing next to the

Harry came to my life when I was in the eighth standard. A bespectacled young boy with ruffled jet black hair, green eyes, and a scar on his forehead; a boy to fall in love with. Don't blame me as I was a teenager who wanted a spell of magic in her life and to run away to the Hogwarts. I hated being a muggle and aspired to become another Hermione Granger. I imagined myself boarding the Hogwarts Express and reaching Hogsmeade, going to that magical school, and learning to wave my wand. I had once written a secret letter to Harry on Valentine's day and later decided to keep it safe in my diary. When I watched 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone' for the first time, I lost my mind (and heart!) over that young and extremely cute Daniel Radcliffe.  I remember keeping newspaper cuttings of anything and everything related to him. I still have them, safely secured in my old trunk. Well, that infatuation lasted for a couple of years till I graduated from college. And

The Holy Ganges In my mind, there is always a cobweb of thoughts running in a loop: worries about my parents' health, anxiety over the work deadlines, fear about my future; the thoughts go on and on. So, when I decided to take my parents on a short trip to Banaras, I was anxious over charting out the travel plan and executing it to perfection. My parents, on the other hand, were initially reluctant and later very excited to go to the holy city for the umpteenth time. But the bone of contention between us was the travel plan itself. While I was stressing on early reservation and booking for the trains and hotel, they were thrilled over traveling by a bus overnight and staying at a place with bare minimum facilities. No prizes for guessing that they are more adventurous than me. Needless to say, I could manage to book the train tickets only. Banaras has a charm that never fades away. Though I have visited the city a couple of times, I still look forward to roam across

The other day, I got a forwarded message on WhatsApp. I had a good laugh going through this image. I do not know about the authenticity of this news but Google came up with a few links related to this crash course on crying. You can check too ( This New Crash Course will Now Teach Brides How to Cry on Their 'Vidaai' ) and thank me later for a ROFL moment! While I am marveling at the entrepreneurship skills of that lady who came up with such an innovative course, I am recollecting the events during my 'Vidaai' . Yours truly got married in the year 2015. Let me tell you about the years before my marriage. I started staying on my own since I was twenty-two. The first time when I left my sweet home to go to the humble college hostel, I cried my heart out. Being the only child of my parents, I was a pampered and overprotected kid. Staying on my own was a liberating yet frightening thought. My parents were unhappy too. How was their kid going to survive on the hostel

I fumed over my cup of coffee. It was a beautiful sunny day outside but my day had not started on a happy note. To start with, I had a big fight with a man over a silly towel he kept on the bed. The plumber was taking his time to fix the broken faucet in the kitchen. I had to rework on the files sent to my boss yesterday and I was already running late for work. A nagging headache was the cherry on top. So, here I was staring at the ceiling, listening to the seconds ticking by, and holding a hot cup of coffee. The coffee was the only good thing in this morning, or so I thought. "This too shall pass," I consoled myself.  After a grumpy day, I was back in my kitchen, making dinner. My favorite songs were playing on the laptop. I had decided to give a cold shoulder to the man in question. After all, he and his silly towel were the reason for my bad morning. The elephant in the room was a five letter word: SORRY. Neither of us wanted to budge and say sorry. Saying sorry m