Compellingly watchable and listenable

While attention grabbing content is the backbone of a TV show or a movie, the presentation and the presenter(s) are of equal significance, as none of us would invest our time to watch a dispirited-looking presenter or a monotonous show that lacks innovativeness and uniqueness in the way it’s being presented. But movies and TV shows no more a daily luxury for me, given the pace at which I work each day. However, I always cherry-pick a few TV programs and make sure to watch them whenever possible. With that said, I must also admit that my checklist is devoid of any soap operas, as I strongly believe in investing time wisely, no matter whether it’s a second or an hour.

News channels and science fiction programs dominated my list of favorite TV shows until I started watching CNBC-TV18. Though this might sound like yet another cliché, I have to say that CNBC-TV18 is truly a business channel with a difference, as I have never seen them broadcasting tailored shows that are solely focused on intricate businesses and markets stories. Instead of serving an elite set of viewers who can decipher the hard to comprehend nuances of finance and markets, they have diverse sets of programs that are both entertaining and informative. Watching CNBC-TV 18 also helped me debunk yet another myth that I’ve had been carrying with me ever since my college days, when I was a devoted and curious student of Journalism. I had always believed that strong abrasiveness is a ‘must-have’ for a journalist of reputable stature. The quintessential visual media journalists whom I revered so far were always found yelling their hearts out on camera, several times, during most of the shows, for an array of reasons. But Shereen Bhan of CNBC-TV18 repeatedly gave me the strong and judicious message that a professional journalist needn’t be abrasive all the time to validate a point or a perspective.



The caustic and irksome on-screen narrators whom I hate to listen to:

From the bygone days of one news channel and a handful of shows, our visual media has grown by leaps and bounds, with the arrival of numerous channels that broadcast endless number of news programs and other related shows, right from dawn to dusk. News stories, political or non-political, always invoke a sense of unplumbed curiosity in me, the reason why I always make it a point to watch one of the news broadcasts telecasted each day. However, news programs are no more the meticulous coverage of top news stories of the day. Nowadays, they do not follow the sequential news broadcasting pattern, one after the other depending on their gravity and depth.

These days, news rooms are less about broadcasting day-to-day happenings and more about abrasive and ludicrous panel discussions that are monopolized by several groups of self-professed intellectuals who carry tremendously inflated misconceptions on their knowledge of the current world and its happenings. The intense interactions, dry wits, distasteful comments, and outlandish altercations take no time to become fiery arguments, violent war of words, and name calling, for several unworthy and unimportant reasons that we can count on. Both the invited guests and the anchors brazenly shout their heads off during the entire sessions, in front of the cameras, and leave no stones unturned to desperately prove themselves right and others wrong, often forgetting the very reason why they entered into the discussion. Thus most of the discussions on political, social, and economic reasons soon pave way for irrational outbursts and unstoppable overflow of intense narcissisms that are intolerable to the core.

A breath of fresh air:

After watching Shereen Bhan for a year, on various shows, I have come to the realization that abrasiveness doesn’t augment one's journalistic expertise, but only intensifies and exhibits the vulnerability of a media person, who has to be technically unbiased and unaffected, even amid the most crucial situations. While many of you might contradict me with a strong argument that CNBC-TV 18 is a business channel that faces the least of tensed debates on political and social issues, I beg to differ, as I have seen her being a part of several discussions that cover such topics as well. I have also had several chances to see her facing the not-so-evident fury of several political functionaries, who have repeatedly taken digs at Shereen Bhan very openly on various programs, for some of her clear-cut questions that they would not want to answer to. Yet, she maintains her commendably calm and composed nature throughout the shows and keeps surprising me frequently. Doesn’t she get angry on being mocked frequently? I don’t know! I have continuously tried to imagine myself in her place, and have constantly thought of my possible reaction on taking such potshots. Let me tell you in no uncertain words – My emotions would have overpowered my practicality, and I would have become downright annoyed several times.

A refreshingly positive face makes every news show and every program worth watching and listening to. It makes you want to listen to the anchor and decipher what’s being talked about. On the other hand, having an abrasive and non-smiling face on the TV is a huge dissatisfaction, and I would hardly bother to listen or watch what’s being aired, no matter how crucial the news program or the show is.

Women, are we safe in our own country?

An anniversary that shudders our mind, a memory that sends chills down the spine, its two years since Nirbhaya, the Delhi brave heart and India's brave fighter, left her mortal life after days of resilient battle against the horrific injuries that were inflicted on her. While namesake memorial meetings and candle light marches happen all around the capital city today, her tormented soul is yet to receive justice for heinous and bloodcurdling gang-rape that shook the entire nation. The huge street protests that followed the dreadful sexual assault did bring the nation to a standstill for many days, and forced authorities to initiate at least a few baby steps, hoping to making Delhi a more safer place for women. But sadly, nothing has changed since that fateful December 16th, and nor do I believe things would change until we introduce and implement stronger laws to protect women from being subjected to sexual crimes.


I often notice that men who get caught in sexual assault cases are absolutely remorseless, and relish every bit of their presence in front of public, as well as print and visual media. This fearlessness results from the unwavering confidence that keeps assuring them that they can easily get away with their lives, no matter how heinous their crimes are. Irrespective of having several fast track courts that assure speedy verdicts in such sensitive cases, no swift judgement has been taken in many of the cases, and no tough sentence have been given to any of the culprits .Ravagers continue to disregard the rules of law, keep pouncing on more women each day, yet  often get off scot-free. While most of the court case take more than 10 years to deliver the verdict, surmounting the pain and sadness of the wronged, crimes again women keen multiplying each day, making women in our country feel utterly helpless and trivial.

No matter whether it’s a city or a lesser fast-paced town, women across the country face sexual ordeals of one kind or the other each day. Catcalling, name calling, leers, shouting, brushing against the body, whistling, grouping, or touching inappropriately, and I can go on about the atrocious abuses that women are subjected to, even in broad day light. As I walk towards the hostel each day, from the bus stop, I can see at least a dozen of who stare at me, pass lewd comments, or try to walk past me while aiming at brushing against my body, during the less-than 10 minutes walk. Even offices turn out equally unsafe, when that stealthily smiling colleague stares at upper part of the body while asking a doubt, or that supposedly ‘decent’ male friend of tries to cunningly brush his hands against our body while climbing down the steps.

While these humiliating incidents are happening in the peak hours of the day, I shudder to think what women are facing during the post-evening hours when our roads have lesser amount of crowd. As the patriarchal community around us keep remarking on the dresses that lure men to committing sexual harassment, let me tell you this in no uncertain words - no matter whether a woman is full clad or barely dressed, no women have the luxury to walk through our streets without being harassed even once.

While Nirbhaya was the talk of the nation, I could hear many of my friends dissecting the incident based on several ‘what if’s that they believe could have averted that barbaric act. What if she had not traveled so late, what if she had refrained from boarding a bus with hardly a few men, what if she hadn't been accompanied by a male companion, and so on. Did her choices resulted in what happened to her on that fateful day? No, absolutely not! A woman's commuting choices are immaterial in a country that’s filled with men who carry the worst facet of overblown sense of masculinity.

For me, leery looks and lecherous comments have turned out to become day today happenings, but like many others, I never react to the taunts or speak back to the hooligan who passes lascivious comments at me. Call me a coward for not standing up for my freedom, and I would say that my safety is obviously my prime priority, however, fearing of a possibly dangerous outcome in the form of a vengeance-filled assault or a violent acid attack prevents me from giving a ferocious reply. Thus I keep calming my mind and walk past the ruffians who comment or stare at me in utmost inappropriate ways. There were even times when I had frustratingly wished for an opportunity to leave the country for ever and move to a safer place where I am not subjected to such harassment each day.

“I will insert a rod into your stomach if you report this,” As I read this terrifying threat that the Uber cab driver told the survivor who was brutally raped, I cannot help but think about the unfathomable amount of pain that Nirbhaya had to face on that fateful day.

With the current state of chaos that prevails in most of the cities and towns, I don’t think many women would come forward to report the harassment that she is being subjected to each day. This increases the brazen confidence of men to commit worst sexual barbarities each day. Nothing but strong laws, along with the timely and rightful implementation of them can change the current scary scenario of our country where no women, young or old find it safe, even in broad day light.  While I write this post, simultaneously watching news broadcasts that telecast the horrific experiences that women journalists underwent while filming about the unsafe circumstances that prevail in some of the top metros in the country, I still hope for a day when stronger and well-framed laws with zero loop holes are implemented, making men think twice before outraging the modesty of women whom they come across.

PS – While many countries around the world take adequate steps to publicize the list of sexual offenders in each city, thus increasing public awareness, both the society and media in our country and more than keener on knowing the victim, her kith and kin and the ways in which she was victimized. Sadism? Patriarchy? I am yet to decipher the right way of depicting this strange mind-set of people around me.

Technology and Digital Media- The necessary evils

Like each and every one of you, I tool love innovative technologies and advanced tools, and have used them periodically to ease my daily tasks and get things done in timely and perfect manner. I do admit that advancements in web and mobile technologies have helped us live life in better, easier, and faster ways, when compared to our pre-technology days with time-consuming and cumbersome tasks. However, with the growing number of hacking and leaking of private messages, personal information, and other sensitive details, I do believe that we are more than addicted to currently used technological aids, and often overlook the downside of each one of them, thus leading to several complexities, including cyber bullying, online harassment, and other spine chilling dangers that we might hardly imagine in our daily lives.


Here is an example from my own live! Facebook had been my ‘wonderful friend’ for quite a long time, until we ‘parted ways’ last year. The only reason why I dragged myself out of the much fascinating world of Facebook is the increasing number of privacy breaches that left me worrying each day. Scare of being unsecure and vulnerable left me in deep dilemma every day, as I felt the unknown claws of an unseen and monstrously faced existence lurking behind my laptop screen, spreading its tentacle-like hands, to find out as many as my private information it can amass. After giving me several nightmares of being deeply violated online, I felt it’s the right time to ‘call it quits’. I logged in and deleted my account forever, irrespective of the fact that most of my classmates from school and college were the part of my Friends List. As you read this, a few of you might think that I am tad bit over conscious about my online security, but considering the increasing number of harassments and shaming that have left most of the women in the world insecure and deeply worried about their online presences, I felt it inevitable to have the least online presence as possible, simply because I AM TOO SCARED TO THE CORE.

While websites and social media platforms go awry with their updates each day, mobile apps are no different. As we all know, not many of us are keen to read the message that pop-up before downloading our favorite mobile applications. While we blindly grand permissions by clicking the accept button on the message, we unknowingly open the easiest pathway for the mobile app companies to sneak into our private world and get the deepest insight about our personal information through our phones. This is one among the many examples of how several of those gross privacy violations are being overlooked or unnoticed. Yet, we leave no stones unturned to amass as many mobile apps as possible and save them all on the phone, simply because we are addicted to having electronic hands to do most of our daily activities. Simply put, we are slaves of the technologies that we have discovered over the years, and are irrefutably addicted to them. The mirage of online world and the enigma of digital quick fixes have surpassed the safer real world, thus making us vulnerable to more and more dangers, harassments, and abuses each day, and still, we are shamelessly glued to changing technologies.

As today’s digital age continues to remain bustling with an array of information sharing on various platforms, there has been a huge rise in the phenomenon of data mining which is now posing a serious threats to our online privacy. The rate of accessibility of information and their subsequent manipulation thereof are posing serious threats in the current digital world; especially in the wake of the fact that no websites or mobile apps guarantee 100 percent transparency in their privacy policies. This results in a clear disruption of the balance in privacy and security on such turnkey mobile and web platforms that have become part and parcel of our daily lives.

Data privacy has become more than relevant these days, particularly when private chats and pictures are leaked online within the blink of an eye. But, many countries around the world are yet to seriously look into this visible invasion of privacy. Have a close look at most of the mobile apps that are being used these days, and we would soon understand that more than 90 percent of them arrive with advanced tracking technologies that raise serious privacy concerns. An alarming fact that we often ignore!

Yet we overuse these potentially unsafe technological aids and foolishly keep welcoming the dangers that lurk around. Let me quote a simple example here. Selfies have become the buzzword these days, and clicking selfies is no more a sign of narcissism. However, posting them on privacy-compromised-sites or mobile platforms, and later regretting for having them hacked by some crook sitting on a remote part of the world is nothing but sheer negligence. Online shopping and cab booking apps have been plentifully made and used these days, thus leaving away a lion’s share of our privacy at stake.

While most of the currently used browsers claim to have the Do Not Track option that is supposedly the safest way of preventing our browsing activities from tracked, analyzing a stream of our own browsing activities each day would help us know that several websites as well as big daddies of Organic Search can track us easily, irrespective of the much-talked-about ‘Do Not Track’ option. While most of these tech-giants keep assuring that us the whole activity of watching is primarily for advertising purposes, most of us know that this statement is nothing but sheer eyewash.

As we continue to strive ferociously and save our own privacy from being disrupted by wacky crooks who can easily sneak into our browsers, mobile apps, and social media accounts, why don’t we lessen our technology addiction a little, and save ourselves from being victimized? I am not advocating on a complete ban on technological aids, but suggest lessened and more careful daily use to keep our privacy safer.

Rather than finding a picture of yours being morphed, sighting a private chat of yours getting displayed on a public platform, or a back account of yours getting hacked, isn't it better to choose optimal level of technology usage, while getting fair share of understanding about the diverse privacy attributes of the sites and applications that we use each day?

A fascinating learning experience

Finance & market news or Unexciting world of lackluster information; yes I did believe so until I started watching CNBC TV 18. Here is how it happened: At the outset, I have a confession to make. I absolutely hated the super-sized, super pompous worlds of finance, markets, stocks, and so on, as they always involved complex calculations, larger-than-life figures, and several intense jargons that were extremely difficult to understand. With hardly any intriguing information to offer, they never enticed my brain with promising content of any sort. Hence, in spite of carrying an unquenchable thirst for information of all sorts, I had zero inclination towards subjects like finance and stock market, as I always found them dry, interesting, and unimpressive.

While the market aficionados around me kept going gaga over inflation, GDP, stock markets, mind-numbing statistical data, and monotonous calculations, I decisively stayed away from such intense conversations, as I knew I would hardly have anything substantiate to contribute. Moreover, the scare of getting mocked for blurting out blunders turned out to be the biggest fear that sealed my lips and closed my mind. I hardly knew anything, and the fear of revealing my humongous ignorance kept perturbing me from seeking any aid to gain awareness on markets and finance.

The business news pages of our newspaper often became the wrappers of my lunch box, as I never read them, and always found the content as strange as Greek or Latin. Blame my lack of interest or an undecipherable abhorrence, my willingness to learn basics of markets and finance always took to the wrong deviations and never found the destination even once. In the relentless efforts to save myself from becoming the butt of jokes, I did try to learn the anomalous world of finance, but never succeeded in grasping the diverse intricacies of the subject. Irrespective of trying hard to deduce the complexities in the world of markets and investments, I couldn't easily comprehend the high-flown language and intense jargons used by print or visual media. Simply put, I hardly had any options to improve my knowledge without the aid of business dictionaries that helped me get palatable market data in bite-sized morsels.

CNBC TV 18 – My one-stop-learning-center for all things finance & business


It was yet another languid weekend, and I was flipping through the channels to find my way out of uninteresting movies and annoying saas-bahu sagas. Unexpectedly, a smiling and refreshingly positive face flashed on my TV screen. I stopped by to watch her, almost at a lightning speed. Much to my surprise, I saw a young and dynamic woman presenting a highly interesting and though-provoking show that featured some of the best young entrepreneurs in the country.

Leaving away a plate of scrumptious snacks that my mother had brought for me, I sat on the floor of my room with my eyes firmly glued to the television. Thirty something minutes went by like a flash, but I watched the entire show without even blinking my eye once. Curtains soon rung down, and Young Turks, currently one of my favorite shows on CNBC-TV 18, bid adieu for the day by flashing the name of the anchor towards the end of show - Shereen Bhan. Having seen several men and women journalists who are sheer aggressiveness personified, Shereen came in like a breath of fresh air. Equally refreshing was the show that spoke about Indian businesses, and yet conveyed things in the utmost compelling ways. While it did debunk my misconception that business journalism is a male-dominated niche, it also added one more name to my list of favorite anchors - Shereen Bhan, one of the most vibrant and utmost professional journalists I've ever seen.

I was quick to search and find out more about the channel and their shows, and found a whole array of information on some really spectacular shows that I can watch to gain profound knowledge on finance and markets. Excitement grew manifolds and I had to thank my lucky stars for the fortuitous opportunity that helped me watch YoungTurks, the flagship show of CNBC TV 18, for the first time.

A whole new world of knowledge and learning opportunities!

With a series of information-filled, innovative, engaging, and refreshing programs, including, OverDrive, The Appointment, India Business Hour, Accelerate India, and Forbes India Show, CNBC-TV 18 soon became the part and parcel of my day-to-day life, and severed me with unfathomable amount of genuine and updated information on markets, finance, business, and stocks; the topics that I once believed were monotonous, jargon-filled, and needless.

Instead of simply restating the happenings, the shows and news broadcasts on CNBC-TV 18 always showcase newer and impactful perspectives with truly global brilliance, while giving many fruits for thought. No consternating political discussions that lead to fierce arguments & no disreputable juicy gossips on celebrities, instead, you are free to cherry-pick some of the best shows on market, finance, and economy. Equally commendable is their efforts to incorporate active involvement from the audience, with the help of effective social media interactions. Simply put, in spite of offering hard-core business and market news stories, they make people pay attention, think, and understand them without difficulty. A team of exceptionally brilliant journalists, unbiased and intelligent coverage of news, outstanding efforts to present them in exceptionally interesting and remarkable ways, are their hallmark, and the reasons that make them stand apart.

It took hardly any time for me to become an ardent viewer of CNBC-TV 18, as I never wanted to miss any of the shows that helped me learn more on the intriguing worlds of business and finance. While most of my friends excitingly watch evening soap operas each day, I wait for Shereen Bhan and Nayanthara Rai to arrive on Indian Business Hour and serve me generous portions of interesting news stories on the exciting happenings from the world of business and market. As the television in our hostel has always been the undisputed privilege and monopoly of the sizeable team of daily soap viewers, moneycontrol.com Live TV, is the only platform where I can uninterruptedly watch CNBC-TV 18, though I must admit that it is eating into my data allowance each month, thus giving me insanely high internet bills. However, given the amount of valuable information that I get to know each day, I regret little about the humongous internet bills.

It's been more than a year since I have started watching CNBC-TV 18, and let me admit frankly, I've improved way far from the hardly ignorant to becoming the reasonably informed. Ask me about bulls, bears, inflation, growth rate, bank rates, or anything that pertains to market or finances, and I can confidently deliver the reply in no time. Gone are the days when I never had to think twice to admit that finance and market news were the most un-fascinating and incomprehensible of all, depicted in utmost boring forms that one can ever find. CNBC-TV 18 and their knowledge packed shows transformed me to become immensely confident and well-informed on topics that I would never have learned in my entire lifetime.

Let me end this with by sharing an unanticipated surprise that I received last week. Quite unexpectedly, I was chosen as one among the lucky ones to represent the viewers and share feedback on a live show that was aired as a part of the 15th anniversary of CNBC-TV 18. As I my favourite host happily appreciated my opinions and interactions, my excitement knew no bounds, and I was literally on cloud nine.

Just an ad

The internet is fired up with heated debates about this advertisement. With no offence intended, I wish if I could ask this to all the self-proclaimed feminists out there, who have left no stones unturned to spark this needless uproar on this new advertisement of the 3G network of a leading telecom player - Why dissect an ad when it’s just an ad?

Shockingly, this ad has upsetted many on the social media as well. But the Boss, Wife, and Chef avatars of the woman is in no way portraying her as weak and submissive, but on the contrary celebrate her capability and urge to multitask and excel in all of them. I happened to watch the ad a few days back, but hardly noticed the mayhem and hullaballoo about this on the web, until I read an article on a leading website, where the author accused that the makes of the ad are promoting gender stereotypes. It was then that I discovered that the ad has garnered a bulk amount of negative publicity, thus becoming the talk of the town.

Even after watching this supposedly controversial ad, I couldn’t decipher the reason that triggered this pointless uproar.

The determined boss who wants her subordinates to stay back for an urgent assignment is seen transforming to a loving wife who rushes back home, whipping up a delectable meal for her husband, and waiting for him to come back. This has been portrayed as downright regressive, wherein the feminists have come up with the unpalatable argument that the ad affirms and justifies the common misconception that in Indian society the husband would always be on the superior side, irrespective of a professional upside that his wife might have.  Adding to my shock, a few blog posts out there portrayed the woman in the ad as a schizophrenic who cannot make up her mind to live up to her position and self-identity.

While the uproar continues to rise, I also read a few articles that are written by a group of ‘defenders’ who believe that the ad perfect and normal in an Indian scenario. This has led to the rise of an obvious question that I have for both the defenders and the offenders - Are we realty running short of worth-discussing problems, the reason why we make this needless hubbub about an advertisement? If sexiest or progressive is the question, the answer for the supposedly serious buzz around us is this one – It is just an ad, watch it or leave it, you are free to choose! If the intention is to throw light on the prevailing misogyny of being an Indian woman, there are several other issues that are worth to be raised.

The ad is in no way a case to kick start a discussion on feminism, which is a much intense concept on factuality, the reason why I do not feel the need to have a fiery debate on an advertisement, especially when it doesn’t portray our women to be docile. The woman who is seen working as a strong and resolute boss is displaying the alter-ego which is a loving wife, and not a lonesome soul who is forced to beg to her husband to save herself from a boring evening. It’s quite humane, and common amid us, and is common to both men as well as women, if they for their respective partners. If the boss in the ad was a man, we wouldn’t have had the same perception, on the contrary would have taken pains to go gaga over the depiction of a loving husband who rushes home to surprise his wife with a scrumptious meal. But the twist in the tale has gathered a group of blazing protesters, who, I believe, should look in to more serious issues that we face in our society, and raise their voices for genuine reasons, leaving behind an advertisement that will make profitable gains to a brand, no matter what kind of publicity it receives.

As the caring wife in the ad is shown getting ready to serve a mouth-watering home-cooked meals, proving her goodness, and having seen this rising hue and cry on the supposedly regressive side of the ad, I have yet another doubt arising in my mind - Had she been shown ordered home delivery for the dinner, would she be portrayed as a bad wife? What if she'd made some sandwiches instead of the elaborate and appetizing meal? The critics would have pounced on to the makers of the ad for portraying women in a negative and big-headed manner. This is nothing but the aftermath of the problematic mind-sets people who fail to understand how to strike a balance in life, and keep it moving happily. The career woman is not a submissive domestic goddess in the latter half, but just an affectionate wife. Ask them off the record, and most of the women who eagerly jot down their disagreement with the concept of the ad would definitely admit on doing the same at their respective homes, even amid sparking a flurry of unwanted controversies and raging debates.

The ongoing buzz and social chatter has shocked me in many ways. As I said before, if a role reversal can create such fierce uproar, why does it mellow down when a man does the same? Why is he portrayed as loving and affectionate? Doesn’t the same apply to a woman too? After having seen thousands of ads that portray men as the boss and women as the subordinate, we get to see turn-table roles in a progressive manner, yet we create a lot of fuss about why she cooks for her husband. Isn’t it quite natural for one to cook for the other partner when he/she is late from work? Please correct me if I am wrong!

I want to explore the world outside my comfort zone

Having a comfort zone in life, professional or personal, would be like sailing smoothly on a calm ocean, where you hardly come across a hindrance to block the easiness that you continue to enjoy. On a professional front, I am surrounded on the four sides by the mount of unobstructed and comparatively less stressful milieu, but off-late, a strange feeling of boredom and exasperation has started growing deep down my heart, for reasons that I am yet to excavate. But I believe that the reason behind this indefinable aloofness is my constant fear of getting outdated and unnoticed, especially when the entire world around me is fast-paced, increasingly competitive, and optimistically cautions, accelerating towards more and more professional triumphs each day.

Hence, differing from the conventional choice of gluing myself on to the comfort zone, I’ve started longing for a shift, a change to uproot me from my comfy work zone, and put me in to an unaccustomed ambiance with unfamiliar people around, for me to grow further. After having a long yet not-so-bumpy ride that helped me carve a niche for myself as a copywriter, I’ve lived both the highest of the highs and lowest of the lows in professional life. The alternate ebb and flow of workplace juggles have unveiled several morale-boosting as well as shattering revelations, along with pouring several knowledgeable, happier, and harrowing moments intermittently.

This revelation was intensely reinforced off-late, when I began suffering some discomforting workplace difficulties that fine-tuned my mind to broaden the perimeter of my courage zone, and look for worth taking risks that can fuel my ride to engaging in more accomplishments and achieving more accolades in life. Throughout the past 6 years I’ve worked all my way up in an uneasy male-dominated workplace that honed my mind to shed down the flagellations of naivety, and to rise up to the challenges that were thrown before me, thus pushing my boundaries wider. In the beginning, I was always bound by the fear of impending risks that I should tackle on exposing myself to newer situations. But I have managed to step beyond my then comfort zone; expanding my confidence, trying out newer things, speaking up for what I felt was right acting confidently and courageously, and taking up the needed risks. I’ve managed to strive even through the most difficult times, triumphing unquestionably.

With no armor to protect me from possible setbacks and criticisms, I had to encounter numerous moments of fearful disagreements, backlashes, and humiliations that constantly aroused my fear of losing the battle I had willingly chosen to fight. After several years of relentless struggle, I managed to overcome my agonies and succeeded in setting for myself a comfortable zone surrounded by easiness on all the four sides.

But while I carry the strong urge to keep pace with the fast-paced world around, and move ahead in my work-life, I have to confess that deep down I also have a fair share of fears that prevent me from getting out of my comfort zone. With a whole bunch of responsibilities that keep holding me back, the bitterness of indecision and insecurity keep thwarting my plans to rise-up and embrace some of those ‘must-needed’ risks that are essential to move-on. I am not new to the discomforts of new ambiances, but what scares me is the profoundness of a looming uncertainty that awaits me in a new setting.

I fear I no more carry that intense zeal and vigor, the reason why I am finding it hard to open the doors once again and readily let me face the riskiness of experimenting a prospective platform that promises yet another journey of professional adventure. Or am I letting the fear of losing resurrect once again, to tighten its firm grip on my mind and soul? I am well aware that a corporate career offers little security for playing safe. I keep reminding me of the words of John. F. Kennedy, who once said: “Nothing worthwhile has ever been accomplished with a guarantee of success.” But my fear of failure has increased manifolds, the reason why I keep driving myself away from newer challenges in professional life. Or perhaps I’ve started looking at me and my capability through the mistakes setbacks that I’ve encountered in the past. However, what I need now is the willingness to give up on the familiarity of the comfy zone, so as to tightly hold on to the discomfort from outside your comfort zone, which can be increasingly crucial to a must needed change in my professional life. Given a prospective chance, I want to give up on this security of the known and the comfortable, to take up bigger and challengeable professional roles, and win over my fears.

When the bully is at home

Healthy self-esteem is something that has to come from within, the reason why I keep mocking at the tailored confidence boosting courses that are being held in the city lately. The unwavering promise to induce undying confidence in someone would be the height of exaggeration that one can hear, especially when the person in need is diffidence personified. Diffidence and timidity are mostly the outcomes of real-life experiences that leave cold fears of unconfidence and shyness. Being a living example of one such daunting experience, I am well aware of the lasting impacts of embarrassments that such incidents leave in our minds. Back in the village where I stayed during my childhood, with a whole bunch of immediate and extended family members, I had this snooty aunt of mine, who had a bunch of humiliating adjectives to define me. The exasperating teases and distressing comments on my dusky skin, my broad forehead, my belly, and my legs were not only mortifying, but brought me down to tears several times. I was told that my forehead protruded like a Cro-Magnon man, my teeth protruded like fangs, and my legs were skinny and bony like a starved Somalian. I was told that I was terribly ugly, and this filled in and settled down in to psychic space indefinitely. Though her comments where often shrugged off by everyone as casual jokes, but they were not as benign as how others thought about them.

For child of less than ten years, the demeaning and hurting teases were like thorns that stuck and pierced through her little soul and left it bleeding every day. Flawed by the kiddish naivety of mine, I never had anything to say in return to my aunt’s scorns and mocks, and always ended up teary eyed, cursing myself for having born ‘ugly’ looking. The day-today ridicules slowly started working their ways to batter, bruise, and cripple my personality, and I was forced to watch how I groomed myself to a shy, introvert, and diffident woman who leaved no stones unturned to save herself from the visibility of the world, especially in public places. I hated being photographed, desperately found excuses to skip family functions, and freakishly looked for everything that can lessen the melanin under my skin. Well, as the saying goes, “The way we talk to our children becomes their inner voice.”, and I was no different until lately.

Though I left the village and moved to the nearest town within a few years, my defaced second-self was glued to me, and forced me to remained aloof from everyone for years together as I had this strong notion etched in my soul that I was not good looking. Being bullied by a family member can be more than devastating, even when the bullying stops. Although several years had passed, the lasting effects of my aunt’s bully and torment left severe self-esteem issues in me. While some of them were so blatant and direct, the others were quite subtle, leaving severe long-term damages. I turned away bright dresses and glossy accessories, as I feared they would accentuate my ugliness. Instead, I draped myself in dull colours and little adornments, and believed they wold help me disappear in the crowd, so that no one like my aunt would take notice and pass more comments. School and college days flew by and I remained hidden in the drape of loneliness and dullness, sacrificing all the fun for saving myself from the vicinity of the world. Though I regret that decision now, while looking back, that alter-ego of mine, whom I forcefully bid good bye to, always raised my fears and insecurities that left me with the lowest self-esteem.

Being constantly belittled about something leads to a very harming self-doubt, and it gets worst when one is belittled for things that she can’t possibly change, like skin color and physical attribute. I was always made to believe that I was less of a person due to my appearance, and those hurting thoughts keep resurrecting intermittently many times even now, particularly when I get to see rejections on the matrimony page that my parents have put-up for me. My aunt wrecked a terrible havoc on my entire self, and left me with a crippled self-esteem. Although I worked for long rebuilt my spirit, I still believe that I have long way to go, yet can confidently say this now – Unlike the my aunt’s comments, I am beautiful in my own way!

A delectable day

Getting a ‘tantalizing’ surprise on a glum day is unexplainably amazing, and I was blessed by one such sweet gesture from one of my colleagues today. Unlike a normal working day, I was in no mood to wake up to the refreshing sunshine in the morning, but had to drag me out of the bed and kick-start the day as I was bound by several commitments that I was obliged to. At times commitments and obligations are too strong to rule our thoughts and emotions that we almost feel desperately tongue-tied and deprived of the liberty to squeeze ourselves out of that ‘must-carry’ encumbrance. When it comes to dealing with workplace worries, the otherwise ostensibly optimistic me always sink in to deeper and darker gloom, and today was no different.

Though half-hearted about the idea of heading towards the workplace, I was quick to get ready and reached the mess hall for the regular breakfast, or we call it so, and believe it to be most scrumptious feast so no matter whatever we’re severed, cooked or half cooked. The dishes often taste so weird and bland that none of us are now deprived of healthy taste buds that clearly differentiate the tastes of what we are served. But as we’re never free to be vocal about the unsavouriness of the food, in spite of paying a whooping rent each month, hostellers like us are mostly deprived of tasty food, forcing us to lookout for affordable foodstuffs available outside, only to end up getting infected with stomach problems most of the times. As I finished my breakfast and left the hostel, I had ample time to reach the office, but chose to turn up a bit early, so that I can save myself from the chocking rush during the peak traffic hours.

Like any other day, the office awaited me with empty seats and dark rooms, where my co-workers were yet to reach. Thankfully I had a copy of ‘Deception Point’ by Dan Brown to help me spend my time until I had to jumpstart the day’s work. As I was complete immersed in story of ‘Rachel Sexton’ and her impending ‘adventures’, I heard her calling me from behind. She, a junior colleague of mine, came to me with a bright smile and handed a beautiful container with mouth-watering paneer butter masala, the most delicious and aromatic dish that I always keep drooling over.

As I grabbed the container from her, I smiled from ear to ear, as if I was handed a piece of heaven. Being well aware of my love for paneer cuisines, she just smiled and went to her seat, while I carefully kept the priceless possession of mine, the container with the mouth-watering paneer cuisine, on my table, positioning it right in front of my eyes. Trust me on this, paneer butter masala is a true mood booster, and I always love savoring the tantalizing chunks of soft paneer, edibly cooked in cream and tomato sauce, and garnished luxuriously with unadulterated butter. It simply cheers me up, just like a happy kid! Serve me a teardrop sheet of oil-laced or ghee-glistening chapatti, porotta or naan to mop up the entire bowl of paneer butter masala, and let me confess shamelessly that I would literally be in seventh heaven.I was always free to indulge myself with ample paneer varieties, until I was forced to keep a check on my skyrocketing weight, which forcefully made me cut down the satiating paneer dishes from my diet.

While I continued my work, my heart was pounding and racing for the moment to savour the delectable delight – the most appetizing and luscious paneer dish that sat in front of me in the beautiful plastic container. The most majestic of all the cuisines I know, paneer butter masala is the right compliment of fragrant flavorsome Indian spices that suffuses our sense, along with wedges of pure butter that make it absolutely scrumptious and salivating.

It came lunch time and I was getting uncontrollably hungry. Unlike other days when I continually ranted about being forced to have tasteless hostel food, my colleagues were quite surprised to see me gravitating to the terrace happily, hugging my lunch bag close to my chest, as if I feared someone would grab it soon and disappear. An enjoyable mealtime soon followed, and I relaxingly sat alone and polished-off the entire paneer butter masala satisfyingly, with utmost delight, enjoying every bit of succulent pieces of paneer. It was more than gratifying that I literally fell short of words to thank my colleague who made my day with such a kind gesture. As I went back to my seat, I was happy, completely free of the glum that surrounded me as I arrived. Sometimes savoring a favorite dish is all that it takes to emerge out of your sadness, solitude and desperation. Today it worked wonders for me, and tomorrow it can do the same for you as well.

Thanks dear friend! You made my day!

Is marriage an end to women's career?

As I happened to watch an interview with Sheryl Sandberg the other day, I heard her mention this advertisement of matrimony.com, where a husband is seen standing up for his spouse, unconditionally backing her decision to work after marriage.

Having seen numerous men who are dynamically opposite to the one in the ad, I found the entire concept of the commercial too idealistic and unreal; yet prefer to hope that such men also exist at some corners of this ruthlessly patriarchal world. As I have disclosed in several posts before, I am not used to seeing men who are vocal about the rights of their partners, but on the contrary have bumped in to several big-headed and hard-nosed morons who want their wives to be as submissive and obedient as a slave. So I would say that the ad was quite refreshing like a breath of fresh air, making me more enthusiastic to go on with my spousal search, on a well-known matrimony site. But here is this thought that I cannot help but ponder over.

Although the ad is supposedly showcasing the post-modern mind-set of a present day Indian spouse, I find it really hard to believe that our men have outgrown and mellowed themselves way ahead to this very ideal level, shedding their conventional mind-set totally, to broadmindedly accept a working woman who stays out of the house until the dinner time of the day. As I mentioned before, while I would be more than happier such men in today’s world, I can undoubtedly say that most of menfolk out there would find it quite uneasy to gulp down the fact that their spouses work until late in the night and conveniently skip their ‘customary’ spousal duties. This is because, having a culture that proclaims men to be the undisputed leaders of the society, women are often forced to fight against this macho mind-set, in order to gain a place for themselves, be it at home or in the society. While the world continues to proclaim that gone are the days when it undeniably latched and rode on the stereotypes of the husband being the breadwinner and the wives getting confined to homely chores, when it comes to women working as late as six or seven in the evening, she gets to see many frowned faces and nosey questions that rip her of her self-integrity.

As it has been rightly put in the ad, it’s high time that men start amassing the courage to stand by their and make the world aware that when it comes to commenting on someone’s life, there is a boundary line where the world has to stop. But the number of such forward-thinking men in today’s society would be much diminutive when compared to the obstinate majority who cannot stand the sight of watching a woman earning for her own and climbing up the professional ladder with ease. A financially successful woman is always portrayed as a threat to her husband and the family, the reason why the world around leaves no stones unturned to make a hullaballoo of her professional dreams, forcing her to give up on her ambitions, thereby turning the statement “The sky is the limit!” into “The home is the limit!” Such forced decisions can sometimes have adverse effects on their self-esteem, and even force them to plunge into deep depression, as they helplessly watch their career dreams going down the drain.

It’s not chance or compromise that binds two individuals in a blissful matrimony, but genuine understanding, respect, and care for each other. Having the mind-set to wholeheartedly understand and accept the likes and dislikes of partners will work wonders and make marriages work without any strain. To make this effectual, all that our men have to is to shed their flagellation of ego, chauvinism, and patriarchal mind-set. But have our men risen to elevate themselves from their traditional outlook? I really doubt if they have! Rather than forcing women to put their careers on the backburner, men should rise-up and take pains to support her on her professional expedition thus stopping educated and ambitious women from throwing her career dreams out of the window.

Being in a happy marriage is no more about the clichéd romantic thoughts, but goes deeper in to making a choice based on the level of understanding and commitment. It’s about embracing an individual as a whole, along with paying attention not to trample the likes and dislikes of each other. But this often becomes one-sided in many relations, mostly due to those self-centered men out there, the reason why I believe there is more to change in the outlook of men, in order to accept and understand a working woman, instead of forcing her to opt for an indefinite career break post marriage, thus squashing her aspirations mercilessly.

In an age where the ratio of failing relations, increasing divorces and growing number of domestic violences, there is much more to a happy marriage than the cliché that we’ve been carrying throughout the past decades. It should no more be the story of submissive wives and their narcissistic and bossy partners but more about empathizing each others’ passions and beliefs. I hope the ad would turn a reality for many women out there, who are in need of a strong, aspirational and compelling reason to enter into wedlock.

Sorry, I'm Not Sorry

After having watched this advertisement of Pantene which unveiled a shocking truth to the world that women apologize more than men, mostly for no reason whatsoever, I cannot help but ponder over the reason liberal use of the s-word by most of the women out there.

It really got me to thinking about the number of times I apologize a day and the reasons why I do that. The result shocked me further, as no matter whether I am in office or at home, I apologized all the time, much more than what I thought, mostly for trivial , dumbest things; and unknowingly continue to do all the time. Although I am not sure about how I am perceived for having uttered those higher number of apologies throughout my life, the advertisement empowered me to keep a check on my emotional and sensitive self, so that I don’t utter more apologies for insignificant things in life. I am not sure if all women have this strong urge to apologize for everything, but the advertisement strongly vocalized the need to delete the unwanted urge to apologize for unimportant things in life.

With its constant use anywhere and everywhere, ‘I am sorry’, has now become almost flippant, and insincerity personified. With an advertisement that clearly articulated about the need for women to stop their frequent apologies, I feel women are responsible more for the recession and flippancy of the word sorry. I don’t know how it turned out habitual in my life, because I’ve always been on the keener side, and hardly landed in troubles that forced me apologize. The apologies that I’ve articulated by far might have come from my mistaken notion that the apologies would give me a way out from the bad situations. But after watching the advertisement, I feel that it hasn’t done anything worth.

Personally, I believe that apologising too much is a result of the incorrect notion that it makes one more polite and likable. Most women do it in the hope that the other person shouldn’t feel bad. In certain settings it may do good, whereas in certain others, it can be the worst move that one can make, and the advertisement echoes this idea that saying too many apologies is a bad idea. Analyze people around closely and one can soon find that blame and shame trickle down a woman’s mind sooner, when compared to men, and most of the times they are absolutely irrational and insensible. We believe that an instant apology is the best way to mitigate every heated situation in our life, no matter whether we trigger them or not. The advertisement exposes this false reasoning and spreads the message of empowerment. While I sulk around the corner to get in to my senior’s cabin, I unknowingly tend to ask, “Very sorry to disturb you. Can I ask you a doubt?” Even if she says “Sure come in. No need to apologize.”, my replied would be immediate, “O.K. I am sorry.”

The advertisement , I believe, is a like a mirror that reflects our own self, and leave a strong message to stand up for ourselves and stop apologizing for trivial stuffs. As the ad ended, I felt I heard a yell and looked around. There was no one behind me, but I soon understood that the yell came out from the revived and empowered soul of mine. It said, “Stop saying ‘sorry’ all the time! Stop being apologetic unnecessarily. You don’t need to do that unless you really did do something wrong, O.K.? Or else the entire world would find that as a reason to prick you for lack of confidence.”

It is time high time to get over with this frailty, and I want to save all my ‘sorries’ to be said for reasons that are rational enough for an actual apology. I want to them all to be said to people who needs sympathy in actuality, as I’ve had this realization, although off late, that ‘sorries’ lose their value when they are overused. Perhaps I should find a more creative way of saying it when I feel that a sorry is detrimental to my own self.

Bottom-line- While some people may start respecting you less for being constantly sorry, some big-headed ones may feel that you are much more conceited than them for not being apologetic.

Fame (or infamy) in 140 Characters

Fame is addictive, fame is contagious, and so is the reason why people are keener than before to get hold of it by hook or crook. The newest and perhaps most talked about platform where one gets heightened to fame overnight, for the good or the bad, Twitter, often turns out to be an unfettered podium for public spats . Taking potshots at anyone and everyone on Twitter has now become quite common among both celebrities and commoners and am yet to decipher the reason why people willingly ridicule others so openly on the web, only to put their feet in their mouths later and get themselves ridiculed at the end. Although I am used to seeing the day today bickering on Twitter, occasionally limiting to a few posts and most of the times extending to explosive rows, they are turning out downright trashy and nauseatingly offensive nowadays.

With people arguing it out left, right and centre, more and more people find it amusing to snoop on Twitter than actually tweet their thoughts. When the rich and the famed indulge in such ugly spats, the media leaves no stones unturned to expose, bisect, and comment on each of the 140 character posts that trigger some much heated arguments. But when a commoner openly confronts on Twitter, thankfully the messages are limited to a few, yet remain open to be read by anyone and everyone online. Such famous and less-famous rants got me to thinking why people are so keen and desperate to wash the dirty linen in public and make a mockery of themselves before the world. Here is the most recent one among such high-profile rants that have hit the headlines. Among the two, one is riding high on his new-found success while the other is a self-proclaimed superstar, but sadly both showed their true colors with their verbal fight on world’s most widely used social networking sites, Twitter. What amused me more was not their choice of words, but their much shocking audacity to turn to Twitter to give vent to their ego. With thousands and ten thousands who constantly follow their tawdry musings, and lakhs of other subscribers who are free to read their vicious and enraged commenting on each other, I cannot help but think about the reason why these self-proclaimed stars are hell-bent on garnering the wrong publicity on Twitter, by constantly ranting on trivial stuffs. This is the newest trend among both young and old, both rich and the not so rich, who unwittingly yearn for shortcuts to skyrocket to meteoric fame in one way or the other.

Online of offline, a constructive criticism or an honest message goes a long way and t fruitful turns out to be a fruitful effort to pointing out things that one would otherwise fail to accept wholeheartedly. But the world is now overcrowded with bunches of annoying social media screamers who conveniently cross the line of decency and decorum as and when they wish, with poor choice of words, screaming at the top of their lungs like ravenous hyenas. Twitter is no impromptu situation where you can slip in to trouble due to lack of time to give a pre-arranged message. Yet many lack the basic civility, and spark a great deal of unwanted controversy, just for immediate fame. Make a big deal out of nothing is never a shortcut to overnight fame, nor is it a remedy to combat the any of the nasty things that being said online. It will only confound and irritate others.

Publicity, good or bad would nurture and boost the ego of a few, and boost their journey to fame, but they all must do our society a favour by weighing their words by being more cautious before posting more impromptu and derogatory posts and speeches. Social media, no matter Twitter or Facebook, gives incendiary words more longevity and reach, sparking heated online sparring in no time, along with courting endless troubles and real world consequences, both legal and personal. Giving your words a second thought and a very careful consideration will actually do more good than lamenting about how your words would take you to raging controversies and foulmouthed attacks, thus hurting you and many others.

Let Go and Move On

Do you sit by the window pane for long and think beyond the brain? You may possibly be caged by the much fatal flaws that most of us have: the addictive urge to dissect the past, the dead, and the bygone! We spend the lion’s share of our lives looking back on what ‘was’ rather than focusing on what ‘is’, even when we’re well aware that it gives nothing in return, but on the contrary robs us of our peace and poise of mind. Yet none of us stop mulling over the past disappointments and heartbreaks.

To put it shortly, rather than centering our focus on the lively present, our keenness lies firmly on the dead past and the uncertain future, the reason why we fail miserably in making the most of our vibrant present, only to regret later, when it becomes a part of the long-gone past. This is quite common among everyone, irrespective of age and gender differences, but I believe women lament a little more when compared men. I don’t intent to call it a fragility, but prefer to depict it as the anguish of the perfectly calculative human mind that finds it hard to realize that one of the much cautiously taken step has gone wrong. A mishmash of good and bad, the past is a chapter of life that has been read and lived, but yet, we’re always haunted by it for no rational reason, and the reason why we’re forced to think more and keep dissecting each moment, in order to create and convince justifications that our mind would easily and unquestionably agree on. But are we good in convincing the conniving minds of ours? The honest answer is a ‘No’. No matter how long we sit and rack our brains to list out the thoughts and reasons for the past actions of ours, our mind will continue to pop-up newer and more complex questions, like a merciless lawyer who keeps arguing fiercely, to prove himself.

So why exactly do we take pains to think and craft reasons and conclusions one after the other, to justify an action that has already happened in our life, for good or bad? This innate human demeanor, I believe, is the root cause of distresses that spoil or present. They not only steal a lion’s share of time but also keeps us blindfolded from indulging in the happiness and fun that the present open-mindedly gifts us. As the camouflage of the past continue to trick us to live in the bygone, the present waits at our door steps uninvited, and sadly leaves as time flies. The unwillingness to let go, the stubbornness to get stuck in the past, and the scare of outcomes of a bygone action are all failing strategies that you latch on to, for no valid reason to cite.

So does that mean we’re bound to erase all that has happened in the past? No, we’re not! Remembering the happy times is in no way harmful, and other contrary can help boost our confidence to make the most of the present. But sadly, we count more on the harder times than the happier ones, the reason why we often can’t let the past go. Past wounds will never do anything good but will only hurt us more, the reason why one should never cry over the spilled milk. We move on and on, in our fast paced life, and no one aims at staying in a point and ponder over trivial things, the reason why we, I believe, should aim at walking (or sometimes) running more, than staying still, hoping to encounter amazing things on the way.

Like a bacteria that slowly decomposes a corpse, the past rots our mind and makes it ‘smelly’, leaving our mind heavily poisoned. As long as the much pondered past is on no way related to the refreshing present, it’s nothing but a putrid waste that has to be flushed right way. Its defective, it’s infected, the reason why past is something to be buried and not to be carried along. Imagine a bird that has been caged for years together, and crying desperately to be freed, that’s how the past moans from inside, yet we never listen to its sobs. So start listening to lit and let the bird fly as earlier as possible, because, soon you will hear its happy chirping near the window pane of your heart, making you feel better, easier, and happier.

Get a life and stop worrying about mine

Dating was never my forte, and it’s still not my cup of tea. Thanks to the much strict and conservative upbringing, unlike most of my friends, I’ve never dated anyone, and never had the much-talked-about thrills and excitements of having a boyfriend in life. While everyone around was so engrossed in their love lives I happily embraced my solitude and hugged it tight each day, jotted down my thoughts and feelings into several blogs, made friends with lots of books, walked down the busiest lanes with no one to hold me tight, enjoyed watching every downpour of the monsoons bygone with no one to wipe off the wetness from my cheeks, and no loving shoulders to feel the tickle of rain drops dripping from my wet hair. Red roses and beautiful cards never arrived in my life, nor did cheeky and sassy calls and messages that kept the world around lively all nights, while I hugged my pillows and drifted to sleep with no sweet dreams to wait for. With that said I also must admit that I am in no mood to regret for not having these much celebrated pleasures. I’ve never felt they are all the must-haves in everyone’s life, nor do I think they are limited to a certain phase of life, and cease to happen beyond that.

Constantly mocked for lack of supposedly distinguishing feminine qualities and the richness of ‘natural’ beauty to become the head turner or the focal-point of menfolk around, my womanliness was always a fruit for thought for everyone, and it escalated to a very amusing extent where even my sexual orientation was under the radar of these infuriatingly nosy folks.

Many a times I found the uncomfortably frequent inquisitiveness constantly frustrating and bothersome, but thankfully managed to keep up with the annoying world around until now. Adding to my displeasure, certain generous womenfolk around even dared for some matchmaking assistances which I politely denied, adding more doubts to their incredulous minds. Little did I care about what the world had to say about me or my lack of dating skills, or any other of those mistaken thoughts that the world fostered about me.

But 30 plus and still unmarried? The world around concluded that there is something seriously wrong with me. While I am a bit beyond the much marriageable age of an average-minded community, like many other of those supposedly ill-starred women, I too have become the marketable product of a much hyped matrimony website that blindly promises to find the soul mates for everyone who is willing to pay them. Despite the fact that I had absolutely zero intentions to pin-up myself on one such sites and do a visibly embarrassing self-marketing, I was always reminded of the nerve-wracking loneliness that awaits me if opt to remain single for long. Furthermore, like every other parents, mine too have the very typical and conventional dream of getting me married off, and silence everyone who keeps them nagging with a repertoire of offensive questions dripped with uncouth sarcasm.

While I’ve been promoting myself online for about a month or two, I have to say that my business is by far rolling downhill, for lack of being the stereotypical woman who would be showered with endless marriage proposals. While I don’t intent to debunk any of the much staunch beliefs that create the benchmark to gauge a woman as a ‘marriage material’, I have been quite surprised by the number of men who create chocking verbal hullaballoos about their much idealistic partner preferences, only to reject women meanly for not matching up to the level of looks or richness that they’ve set in mind.

For being thirty plus, for lack of long hair, for choice of unconventional academic qualifications and job, for being vocal about my self-identity, for lacking cooking skills, for not being filthy rich, and for many other reasons, I keep getting a bunch of rejections each day, I cannot help but laugh my ass off over them. Much to the surprise of those perceptibly snobbish men, desperation has never hit me hard the reason why none of the back-to-back rejections have been strong enough to pour in the feelings of intense dejection and hurt in to my mind, but on the contrary makes me more stronger.

But I must say that I am more than done dealing with endless questions and sympathetic nods that I get to witness each day, along with scornful reminds about hitting the mega milestone, and walking past the big 30 without having a man by my side. It sickens when I get to see people making huge faces on knowing that I haven’t been ‘lucky’ to date someone find a match yet. As someone who has successfully pursued her dream of leading an independent life, it freaks me out when I get to listen to those pretentious well-wishers who unwelcomely barge-in and spit-out their piece of mind as if there is no tomorrow and I am left with zero chance for a happy relationship or a blessed nuptial. I’ve reached the saturation level of tactful replying to them, and many a times I break the barriers of decorum and give earful to those who are needlessly curious and unsympathetically sardonic.

I don’t know what the future holds for me, nor does the sympathising and scandal mongering crowd around me. While I am fine with waiting for the future to unfold for better, I really wish if I don’t get to see any more sympathisers and scandal lovers around me.

Body language

No matter how many training sessions I get to attend, there is one part of them that I find too much amusing and just impractical to listen to and practice. It’s nothing but the whole lot of hullaballoo on the need to consciously and consistently maintaining a supposedly accepted body language, which I believe is a nothing but a deceiving pretention.

The other day I was amid a training session when the instructor told me not to keep my arms folded across the chest as it indicates arrogance and bad manners. Although I was startled hearing that tad bit open reference on my posture, I must say that I didn't have any intention to be arrogant or indecent amidst that huge crowd. I was comfortable sitting with my arms folded and was absolutely at ease. But the comment dragged me away from the easiness I had, and made me a bit extra mindful from then on. I became doubly cautious of how I sat, changed my postures often, kept head high and shoulder back enough from drooping, and tightened the abdominal muscles. These desperate efforts of mine, to be visibly clear with my body language, almost diverted my entire focus from the discussions that were going on, and my brain hardly registered any of the tips that were mentioned later, as it was already engaged in giving me the signals of alarm, whenever I shifted to the supposedly bad or unprofessional posture.

While I don’t disagree on the necessity of a strong body language, I have this slight disagreement on making it a yardstick to judge someone. Body language is an essentiality in workplaces, and I don’t intent to deny or argue on that, but have just one question to ask - If being myself makes me powerful, confident, and energized, is there a need to accept these globally recognized norms and protocols, only to temporarily duplicate myself, and later unconsciously slide back to how I am. While I may forcefully make myself go by the accepted rules, it wouldn’t actually take me long to get back to the usual way of speaking, sitting, or standing.

This makes me wonder why people are keen on judging others through postures which may not depict them correctly. While well-known trainers and corporate program instructors advocate these ‘must-follow’ steps, most of them often forget that these much-talked-about practices are subjective, varying from person to person, depending on their body make-up and even the previous injuries that might have affected the postures.

If a posture can affect how someone perceives an idea about me, I would call it a misjudgment, for varied reasons. Being someone who has been in the IT industry for 6 continuous years, sitting hunched over at a computer the entire day, I suffer from major problems with my back and shoulders, and also get severe sinusitis headaches on and off. Hence I keep shifting postures in-between, while attending meetings and conferences, which in no way means that I intent to be unprofessional, arrogant, or rude.

While I agree to the fact that body language is a crucial nonverbal sign, it should never be taken as the only benchmark to judge someone. While most of us keep trying to embrace the accepted body language norms through attention and constant practice, the energy, resilience, and confidence of being oneself is way different from forcefully making the body do things that we can never practice continually. As much as I know I can wow someone being the way I am, I am also aware that my body would speak volumes about tons of uncomfortableness, if I am forcefully made to sit, speak, or do things robotically.

The strongest body language is about being oneself and accepting what it takes to boost ones confidence, competence, and charisma, along with gaining the ability to gain a commanding presence. This is never the same for everyone. The aura of confidence that one has will remain only by being oneself.

Thirty is not the end of life

Does age hinder you from enjoying your life? Does it make you feel like a worthless bum? If you say yes to both these questions ‘How Old Are You?’ the movie that I saw yesterday, would change your perspective in just two hours.

A milestone in every woman’s life, but a source of considerable anxiety and depression, turning thirty or the impending transition from the supposedly ‘youthful’ twenties to the hard-to accept ‘adult’ thirties is the worst of a woman’ s fears. Lately I’ve been watching a lot of people around me who freak out too much on turning or being thirty, and deal with all the sudden and unnecessary existential crises. An indispensable journey of life that no one can stop as per their whims and fancies, thirties arrive in everyone’s life, and can be pretty awesome if one has the right perception and willingness to accept and enjoy that settled and matured stage of life. But the fear to grow old begins with thirty and burgeons day and after day, making us go desperate for everything that we feel would give us the so called ‘juvenile effect’ and bring back the twenties in to our looks.

No matter whether it’s a few wrinkles around the eyes or a couple of extra pounds on the body, every age comes with an amazing step forward in life, for which we should be thankful for, instead of pouring out grumbles and curses. Nevertheless, age crisis eats up most of our thoughts and we end up being frantic to polish our outer selves in whatever ways possible, to look ‘younger’ or so do we believe, thus killing our innate and god-gifted potentials.

This destructive road of thinking was the theme of the movie and the protagonist, a thirty something woman, the butt of ridicule of the entire family and society, is seen transforming herself into a woman of substance, strength, and ultimate vibrancy by the end of the movie, when she, who remained shy to reveal her age turns fabulously confident enough to say that age doesn’t matter at all, as it’s nothing but just a number. A chain of events wash away her confusions, anxieties and insecurities, making her shed her self-flagellations and rise up to become a much revered personality, thus gaining immense respect and admiration, even from those who gang-up to shower ridicules on her.

While women turn distressed and freakish on turning thirty, I haven’t ever seen a man undergoing the same desperation on stepping in to his thirties. While the protagonist of the movie tries her best to be keep up with her younger looking husband and vivacious daughter, her husband is shown as a very easy going and self-centred man, and an absolute naysayer, who leaves no stone unturned to belittle and poke fun at his wife for being in her thirties. For most of the women the biological clock starts banging its hammer by the age of thirty, and our protagonist is no different. With more of a sedentary and lazy life in a government office, she has no knowledge of the world outside, other than the trashy conversations of the serials and novels that she reads.

Surrounding her is a group of scandal mongering women and men who live and breathe only to gossip and say ill about everyone other than them. The situation is no different in real life as well. Most of the women forget to set strong boundaries and dedicate their time for people who genuinely care about them. Thirty or not, mediocre friends and miserable colleagues are a real pain in the ass, and should be nipped off right from the bud. Instead, having people who can better our vision and love ourselves for the way we are can work wonders in our lives. This is very effectively depicted in the movie, when a long lost friend of the protagonist motivates her and changes her entire outlook about life, by helping her start dreaming all over again, and inspiring her to chase her dreams with all her efforts. While her narcissistic husband pays a short visit from Ireland and indirectly admits that he wants her to accompany him and help him avoid the cash crunch of paying for a servant, the protagonist boldly denies and gives befitting reply that almost silences him. As the movie draws close and we see her family dining with the honourable president of India, leaving a wonderful message that age is never a benchmark to judge someone, nor is it a hindrance on our road to achieving big in life.

With that said I must say about the immediate impact of watching this absolutely motivational movie. A woman who sat next to me, a thirty something housewife and mum of two kids, couldn’t stop saying this as we stood up to leave– “I feel as if I have many more things to do in life.”

Above all the namesake accolades and write-ups, those words are the genuine acceptance and appreciation that the movie and the makers can get, and ‘How Old Are You?’ is well-worth all that and more!

The place I would never go back to

Hating people is subjective and so is hating places, but hating everyone from a certain place or locality, for no apparent reason might sound a bit wired and irrational, but I have to shamelessly admit that I have this much unreasonable phobia for people from a certain town, although it’s the native place of one of my immediate family members. But the moment I get to meet or talk to someone from that ‘hateful’ region, my mind is too quick to create a very strong wall of hatred around that I cannot help but be indifferent and unpardonably snooty to them, no matter how good they are. I cannot stand the very presence of any one from that place, as anger soon snowballs in my mind, ready to burst out even from the thinnest of the fissures. With that said I must tell you about the reason why I slip to uncontrollable anger when I meet people from a town that’s very far from mine.

The bitterest of my childhood memories come from this town, where I happened to live in a large ancestral home, with a whole lot of members, mostly males who have the worst ego and superiority complex that one can ever find on earth. The females other than a fifty something matriarch and her youngest daughter had absolutely no say in the family, whatsoever, making the other women much worse than puppets who were made to work according to the whims-and-fancies of the big-headed males in family. Decisions where the monopoly of men, and women were hardly asked any opinions, no matter what their choices where. None of those submissive women knew what it is like to have self-identity or ho it is like to be independent, as they were steeply overshadowed by their indescribably domineering husbands and in-laws.

While the men were free to work and enjoy as per their wishes, their wives slogged every single day, juggling between truckloads of household chores and child duties. Sadly and shockingly I never saw any of those much ‘married’ men turning up even once to lend a helping hand to their wives who toiled each day with tons of backbreaking works. On the contrary, I used to see the flocking to the dining table near the kitchen area during meal times, when women would hide themselves behind the kitchen door, waiting for men to finish their meals, while the matriarch and the snobbish sister in law served the men, thus showing off their dominant position in the family.

While men where served the best potions of the food, women had to satiate their huger with what their glutton husbands left behind. Yet, with absolutely no qualms, they used to enjoy the leftover food and slog again until late night, hitting the bed dog-tired. With about a dozen members to serve and no domestic aids to ease their workloads, the womenfolk in the family slogged like slaves with whatever amenities they were provided with, and managed to serve others in the best possible way, amid all the silly and irking complaints and rants that they had to listen to. Quarrels were never new to them and occasional thrashings were something they were much acquainted with.

The matriarch was no less than the hellish mother-in-laws of stories that we’re familiar with. While she plotted and planned against each of her daughters-in-law, the demonic sister-in-law who was equally conceited gave her mother a great support in side-lining and bullying the women. They left no stones unturned to poison the minds of the men in the family with malicious stories about their wives, triggering ugly spats every single day. As they sat back and enjoyed the men howling, shouting, and occasionally thrashing their wives, these two vicious women slyly and devilishly smiled out of contentment, affirming their unmatched position in the family.

Simply put, the horde of awfully narcissistic men and their pathetically subdued wives gave me the worst shock of my lifetime that I even bore a very strong sense of hatred and bitterness towards men until a few years before. Although I waved good bye to this much conservative and tormenting ambiance several years back, I still have those memories sharply etched in my mind that I find it almost impossible to be cordial to people from that town no matter who they are.

Let your actions do the talking

When it comes to waiting for my turn in a long queue, I am not as patient as I should be, the reason why I always make it a point to do things on-time, and if possible a little in-advance, so that I can avoid long and monotonous waits. I do this everywhere, every time, especially when it comes to paying the monthly hostel fees.

Today being the last day of the month, I was all set to pay the next month’s fees, and reached the office room on time. Our warden was on a serious talk with one of the inmates of the old age home, and I was made to wait for about a minute or two, while the old woman paid her fees and had a usual chitchat before leaving. As she was about to leave, after sharing her share of unsolicited advices of which I heard the last part alone, I went inside to pay my fees. It was then that our warden told me about the heated debate that went on until I entered as the much unforeseen interrupt, for which our warden couldn’t thank anymore.

The topic of the debate was the fundraising program to help a cancer patient get his daughter married off. With a few steps more to embrace death, he is almost bedridden, and is desperately hoping to see his daughter’s marriage. Our hostel committee agreed to raise a part of the money required, and wanted the generous ones among us to contribute a little share each. Being the member of a rich and affluent family, she did have ample money to help that poor man, but sadly and shockingly showed her pitiable stinginess by giving just a meager amount, along with a whole lot of reasoning to desperately justify herself. Those who were well aware of the amount of money that she continues to squander each day couldn’t hide their shock to see her arguing fiercely for not contributing generously for a genuine cause.

I don’t intent to blame the old woman, but believe that she could have been a bit more generous. But sadly, other than selfless willingness, no persuasion in this world can make a person donate for a good cause. While people are keen only on futile talks on charity, their noble sounding words would quickly turn into plaintive pleas if they are asked to put them in to practice! What a pitiable revelation of double standards! A charity that doesn’t break the bank is always possible, but all that it takes it takes is a generous mind-set and the willingness to help the needy.

It’s high time to shun our hypocrisy of limiting charity to just verbal juggleries alone. We have to either stop all the talking and remain aloof from helping the needy, or match up to our words and lend a helping hand when required. I’ve seen the old woman willingly participating in many of the events in our hostel, and impressing the audience with her long speeches on helping the poor and needy. But the actuality turned out tad different from all the talking that she did so far.

With all these said, you would have an obvious question in mind – Whether I gave my share of contribution or not? Yes, I did. Although I am not as rich as the old woman, and has been in a deep financial instability, I did give a share without any futile talking, because I believe that my action should speak louder than my words.

Respect is not anyone's birthright

Despite the fact that vacations to dad’s village always aroused a whole lot of curiosities, the most pronounced one among them was the unreasonable pride of the much strong headed Nairs. Although caste system was not visibly strong, every other Nair in the village was considered themselves elite and superior way above the others or precisely the Ezhavas, Christian, or the Pulayas. This very baseless and imprudent notion was immovably strong, particularly the grownups.

An unpardonable injustice that existed decades before my birth, an unjustifiable and unfair tagging that I would never agree on, the dislike towards people from the lower caste was profound in my dad’s village until a couple of years back. As a child, I was totally new to the idea of caste differences, while the natives including my cousins strongly believed in the so called age-old segregation. I found it quite strange to gulp down the oddity of indescribable discrimination that the snotty upper caste, or the Nairs, showed towards the supposedly lower castes.

There was this Ezhava family close by our ancestral home, with Kunjiraman and Sumathy and their kids who were our immediate neighbors. While Sumathy helped my aunt with household chores, Kunjiraman was the trusted aid to my uncle, and managed our paddy fields, along with rearing and taking care of the cows that we had. Growing up hearing everyone addresses them by name, the entire clan of children at home, except me, too started aping the elders. Much to my disbelief, both Kunjiraman and Sumathy were absolutely fine with this, and never showed any sign of uneasiness. But I couldn’t agree on this gross disrespect and indecency, and addressed them as Kunjiraman cheettan (brother) and Sumathy chechi (sister). Their children too were much elder to me and I addressed them as cheettan (brother) and chechi (sister), for which I was relentlessly mocked by everyone. I never knew my sense of respectfulness would irk people around, but the worst was yet to come. Needless to say, regardless of being right, I became the butt of the jokes for defying the indigenous beliefs by respecting the ‘sub humans’, and giving the rightful dignity they deserved.

Being born to parents who have always been uncompromising when it comes to respecting elders, I knew I was not wrong, however, was badly ridiculed consistently for being respectful to Kunjiraman and family. I was called an outcaste and people left no stones unturned to make a mockery of my innocence and frankness.

Humiliations heaped upon me and I burst in to tears on several occasions. Yet my dad kept asserting that I must address them as cheettan (brother) and chechi (sister), as they were elder to me. I knew my dad was right, and I knew I was right too, but there was no way out to prove myself. It was hard to be a one man army and win over a dominant number of boorish and big-headed people on the other end, who never stopped bullying me for being respectful, not just to Kunjiraman and Sumathy alone, but to everyone whom they called low caste.

Years passed by and with a hectic work life that drains out a whole lot of time from my life, I almost stopped visiting my ancestral village. Yet these memories flashed through my mind the other day, when I read the story ‘Charlis and I”, a stellar piece of writing by Shashi Tharoor. I could very well relate to Neel, the protagonist, as I underwent the same shock and disbelief, when I was scorned for respecting someone who was elder to me, just because he /she belonged to a supposedly lower caste.

Is it time to leave?

I came for an exciting future which has now become a stinking stagnancy from where I desperately want to escape and re-engineer my life. 

It’s my seventh year in the big city, but sadly, I don’t feel it as alluring as it used to be. Far away from the hustle of a metro and the maddening crowd that throngs around, I was brought up in a not-much developed town, way far-off from the big city. Growing up in a traditional middle class family, I was never familiar bewitching cities and addictive lifestyles, as all those were confined only till the television programs that I got to see, after pretty-much 'censoring'. With no Carrie Bradshaws and Lizzie McGuires to boost my rather diminutive dreams, I never aimed big or wished for a world beyond the limited surroundings that I was confined. Moreover, living in an overprotective family that never exposed me to the treachery of the world outside I trusted and believed things and people in the way they appeared to be, and never felt the need to delve deep, as I blindly believed people around and trusted them as I trusted myself.

But destiny had other plans and I moved in to the big city which enticed me with a whole lot off nerve-tingling excitements that were nowhere found back in my home town. Although I was new to the city life and took considerable time for being a part of the fast paced urbanism, I got attuned to the new lifestyle, yet curtailed myself from getting lost in the totally new world that I was in. Months and years passed by, moulding and remoulding me from the much simple, sometimes downright silly, to an independent and serious woman with a vivid idea of how to live and move on, even in the toughest circumstance that I get thrown in to.

The journey was not as easy as I felt it would be. Along with a good share of gains, I got to experience equal or perhaps more share of losses as well, when unexpected happenings unfolded with several unforeseen moments. While small and medium-sized victories brought moments of joy and pride, what fueled my growth more was the hard experiences of being exposed a whole new world without any notions of how it would be. With no idea of people and situations around me, I went on living every day in my own way. I fell down and failed very many times, but stood up again taking-up lessons from every experience, both good and bad, and making them the catalysts to move forward. My never-give-up attitude strengthened me to rise-up from every fall, no matter how wounded I was. Relieving from the burns and wounds, I moved forward each day, leaning on to every single ray of hope that made me dream about a better day and a brighter future.

Outgrowing the pain of being ignored, dejected, back-stabbed, deceived, unrewarded, unheard, and unappreciated was not easy for me, but I fought and won those battles all alone, whilst withdrawing myself and creating a cocoon from where I hardly go out now, to get close to people around, in the way I used to.

I came to explore the city that I'd been dreaming about for so long, but it has nothing more to tingle my senses and excite me to remain here further.

Seven years bygone, and the consistently appealing big city has lost its charm to monotony and lackluster. The sunshine is dulling each day and I want to break free from this long default setting of my life. Life is almost akin to a very mechanically running machinery which keeps moving in the very same way at the very same pace, uninviting and unexciting. On a professional front I am more or less in stagnancy with no upward movement to hope for, while on personal level there’s nothing further to excite and motivate me to remain further. The anticipation that brought me here, the feeling of being on a roller-coaster and waiting for that adventurous start, is no more alive and vivid in my mind. I feel as if I am constantly walking towards boredom and monotony, only to keep pulling me back from reaching there.

Yes, I want to move on and start afresh in another city, possibly unknown and unfamiliar of, preferably far away. Is there any way in which you can help me out?

A short escape from reality

Strong waves of intense desperation keep hitting me on and off, for some reason or the other, several times a day. Some of them leave no stones unturned to mercilessly drag me to the brim of a nervous breakdown, but I often save myself through a temporary escape to a strange makeshift surrounding, to shred my very stressful present and start afresh.

Sudden and unforseen desolations are never uncommon in our lives and I am no different. But sometimes they grow intense and uncontrollable, especially when I am strongly blamed for no reason or when trampled under a bunch of worthless advises from people around, be it my immediate family or the much strange this-and-that people I get to see each day. I am no stranger to being underrated and unrewarded at workplaces and have outgrown the stages of grumbling and crying my heart out for being unappreciated and unrewarded for what I do.

Now I don’t shed tears on being called irrelevant and do not express my anguish for being unappreciated. Instead, I put a visibly strong and bold face to deal with the despairs, making sure not to curse my stars for the repeated failures that I get to face, often for no reason of mine. What’s left is an unexplainable numbness which has stuck my brain with its full strength and vigour leaving me visibly reaction-less to every single blow that I face. But if you ask me what goes on deep inside my heart, the resource of words that I have is insufficient to put out how badly I feel. On a personal front, I am more familiar with let-downs than contentedness the reason why I have now become well groomed to take in everything with a pinch of salt. That being said, I must also admit that sometimes my saneness gets so badly hit, and that’s when I enter a brief escaping mode.

On reaching the level of saturation, I so badly yearn to run away until things settle down clearly in my brain. This is when I switch to the escaping mode, where I dream about flying off to some of my favourite places, mostly some of those hustling and bustling metros where I can effortlessly vanish in to the very fast moving crowd. Imagining me busily writing for some of my favourite companies is yet another phase of the fleeing mode, where I see a happy and contented me working my ass off yet earning well enough to fulfill all my dreams.

The runaway mode is quite good for the mind and keeps me off from the impacts of distresses, small and big. By the time I get back to normalcy, I would be at peace to rationally attune myself to compromise to where I am and what I face, grabbing by senses and moving on with whatever hope I am left with. Though it may sound way bit silly and irrational, for me, it’s a workable potion to sooth my grieving mind and make me walk past some of those sorrowful days.

Seeing myself busily walking through the pavements of beautiful city, imagining myself writing for a well-known company, picturing myself getting wholeheartedly appreciated for my writings, visualizing myself walking contentedly with a decent paycheck, envisioning myself living that fairy tale life with the man of my dreams; I know they are all too much impossible to think about, yet I dream in my escaping mode, and dream big, even for the momentary happiness and saving a little of it for a long term hope that someday at-least a few of those would turn out true.

I don’t share any of my woes as I hate being a complainer, nagging everyone I know, the reason why I hardly disclose myself to anyone, be it my parents or other family members whom I am close to. The blog has always been a good platform to give vent to my thoughts and feelings, the reason why I’ve made most out of it all these years, without being too divulging. Yet, writing my way out gives me a sense of unaccountable sooth and calmness, along with the strength to move forward boldly. So does the temporary fleeting mode where I dream myself to tranquility.

Those who read me regularly might find it a bit odd that I lament quite a lot sometimes, and I shamelessly admit I do, as my blog is the only friend I have on earth to listen to my blabbers, no matter how senseless and boring they are.

A snack that you can't say no to

Having a wholesome array of well garnished and delectable gastronomic varieties would undeniably be the most wonderful delights for both mind and stomach. But I must continue to keep reminding myself that I am supposedly on a weight watchers diet, and should never get tempted to gorge on foodstuffs that add more calories to my already expanding frame. Taking time off to treat my palate to delicious and calorie filled food stuffs has always tumbled my dieting plans but I never get over that addictive habit of falling for gorgeous looking and scrumptious foodstuffs. One such is the perfectly rounded and tastefully layered burgers; garnished with neatly cut vegetables and served with lip-smacking ranges of hot chilli and tomato sauces.

I got to taste this western fast-food after reaching my big city which is rich in both posh as well as street-side bakeries that serve a whole range of delectable snack selections - a feast both for the eyes and for the palate. The curvaceous, captivating and truly satiating burgers are neatly arranged and kept on noticeable spot, to invite the attention of every hungry customer who enters with much anticipation, looking for a quick bite, possibly a low-key decent snack which is not pricey.

To be frank, at the very first glance, burgers we not as appealing as I felt it would be. But slowly felt a strong tantalizing feeling deep inside my belly that lured me to munch-on one of those appetite inducing uber-popular snack, beautifully stacked spicy patties and attractive slices of cucumber onion, and tomato. There was no craving at first, but a few bites did make me love the tangy flavours and seasonings as well as the satisfying taste of vegetables. Within no time I found myself falling for that curvy newfound snack which was unquestionably wholesome and tasty beyond words.

I was served a flavour-packed Indian version, a fusion snack with rich, exotic, and mouth-watering flavour of savoury and spicy deep friend veg patty wrapped in two soft buns, and served with tomato sauce. As I was unaware of the original taste of a burger, my first burger experience awesomely suited my very Indian palate.

A dense and filling fast food variant that I cannot easily find in bakeries back in my home town, burgers served in my big city are invitingly addictive, and incomparably delectable. Every other chef or restaurateur here are experts in making burgers, be it in the very classical way or custom-made to suit our palate.

Although I am far from being completely obsessed with this wonderfully layered eatable in multifarious varieties, the fixation for well grilled burgers are quite common among both the young and old around me. Burgers are no more side-lined as the quintessential American food, but considered very much a part of Indian gastronomic varieties. A widely chosen staple snack choice, burgers are always uniquely tasty, the reason why most of us continue to embrace this veritable king of all snacks available these days.

Those who are keen on finding the Indian version can perhaps look for a vada pav vendor who can serve you a spicy Indian Burger or the Vada Pav, teamed with tangy chutneys. Round deep fried potato balls are sandwiched between two pavs or buns smeared with garlic, chutney, and butter, making it one of the most liked fast food varieties in India, truly exceptional and remarkably tasty. Try it out soon and you will thank your stars for this delectable and addictive Indian version of burgers.