the stories behind fancy pictures

Sometimes I feel slightly uncomfortable sharing pictures with many people. They jump to these fancy conclusions that things are perfect, because the pictures are so (thanks to Tonk, of course). And while a strange sort of peace and a strong emotion fills me when I see this picture. I do also remember that at the…

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What is my culture?

Recently while eating spicy Thai (and not even a coconut base) chicken and a bowlful of sticky, shinning rice, in a half Deutsch-half Vietnamese (?) restaurant named Panda ( there’s enough Chinese as well), I had one of those culture moments. What is my culture? Growing up, my idea of home has increasingly got clearer…

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Why do we celebrate: Mekhal ?

Step 1: They took his hair away My baby cousin ( he was born in ’92 the year otherwise famous for the Cricket world cup) has been a lovely boy. Obsessed with his hair generally (especially when he was in his precious teens). I’m not heavy into gifts but the one thing I did get…

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another year.

I promptly messaged parents in the morning wishing them both another July and a year. And promptly also asked for treats in the night. How spoilt I feel with parents. Who else could I *ask* for even more, on a day when I should ideally give? They feel nicer when I ask, might I add….

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From Papa’s

Traditionally, and these days depending on time, the whole family gets together in the night, every night, for a week at the least, to sing, considering it is, the shaadi waala  ghar [the wedding house] and such activities are meant to be fruch [auspicious]. The next day of wedding, Srinagar Kashmiri songs are accompanied by…

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Grandmother. On Love.

Once in summer holidays, grandmother was in great mood. With her bahus and in general. Grandmother likes being the mother hen and having the whole family around, I have noticed. They started talking about children, love, cute things children shouldn’t know yet. And everyone started hush-hushing. When blatantly, she shot off: what’s the hush-hushing about….

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I’ll be watching you.

Grandfather was called Tathya (the dear one), or Tathya ji (for respect). I called him Tathu Maharaj ( I can’t recall how I knew I had to attach royalty to his name, anyhow). Our ritual was that either we would come home with him (after school ended at 4pm, matching with end of office for…

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