Reflections in Personal Growth

 Mangoes are the one upside of summer in India. The various shades of yellow, the pervasive aroma of the fruit, the dramatic differences in texture and taste of the different varieties, mangoes are a truly treat to the senses. The improvement in the supply chain technology has led to an explosion of varieties available in the country. But it was not always like this. Appa would bring a box of Alphonso or Hapus (we called it Aapoos, I had to look it up now to find the spelling :p) when he traveled to Bombay, it was a genuine treat. We would get Neelam, Salem, Malgova varieties locally. A recently available variety that is delectable is the Imam Pasand. Badami is another one that is Alphonso, but can't be called that (it is grown in the contiguous stretch of land as the Alphonso, but called differently because of GI). Banganapalli receives a bad rap only because of it ubiquity in Bangalore,  The saga of mangoes would begin long before the ripe fruits entered the scene. Before the fru

On the recommendation of a friend, I watched Laapata Ladies. I had a five hour flight to take, and I downloaded the movie last minute, and had had very little prior context of the story line, or even the genre. I watched about half the movie on the flight, and just concluded the full movie about two days later.  The movie is very nicely done - powerful ideas presented simply and without drama, with a certain yathartham (Side quest - Didn't know the direct English equivalent of the Tamil word, used google translate. Apparently it is the same word in Hindi as well (who knew!) and roughly translates to realism. Realism doesn't completely capture the essence, maybe realism with elegance is better). Directed by Kiran Rao, characters played by not so mainstream but highly talented actors, taut story line, and a dose of everyday humor, the movie is a treat to watch and leaves you thinking. As I watched the movie, the character Manju Maai reminded me of Geetha didi. She worked at my ho

We don't need ONE women's day, We need a day to care about women's SAFETY From being fed ideas about her identity and potential From molestation, abuse, torture and death. We don't need ONE women's day We need a day to INDULGE her RAGE Her pent-up anger over centuries and generations To fuel an uprising to restore the balance. We don't need ONE women's day We need a day to RECOGNIZE her unique advantages Evolutionary and honed over thousands of generations That her male counterparts can do with a little more of. We don't need ONE women's day We need a day to CELEBRATE how far she's come In spite of the cards stacked against her In a sexist society. We don't need ONE women's day, We need a day to FIGHT for women's EQUALITY In power, authority and responsibility In representation, grace and compassion. We don't need ANY women's day For great will be a day when she can just BE Existing and thriving, with strengths and contributio

I wanted to go for a walk I didn't want to venture out I dithered and dallied, finally Did decide to step out. The friend I called to speak didn't pick my call. The book I had been listening to didn't call out to me. The song I had recently been binge-ing on sounded wearying. My usual playlist was on infinite skip. Maybe it was the time to just be by myself, with myself. Am I fun to hang out with, time to find out! So off I went, airpods back in case, Walking on, trying to be in the present.  The cold forced me to pay attention, The wind faithfully supported the cause. The occasional car ferrying its driver home, The sidewalks devoid of any people.  My hands found warmth deep in the coat pockets The sliver of skin between the leggings and the boots didn't I kept my head held low, out of respect for the cold, The jacket hood could not keep out the howling wind. With every lamp post I passed I watched my shadow grow longer and shorter Unlocked a core memory Memories carri

We talk about and reminisce the fun stuff. The happy times in relationship.  With a friend. With a lover. With a manager. Conversation that just flows.  Music that instantly resonates. When you feel like you belong. When you feel loved. What feels easy. Effortless.  We don't speak enough about the hard stuff. Getting out there looking for a job.  A dream job. Or a job for sustenance. Getting rejected at an interview. Being passed up for promotion. Being fired from or laid off at work. Feeling betrayed by your manager.  We don't speak enough about the hard stuff. Taking your ideas into the world. Finding out they suck. Asking for money. From an investor. A friend. Admitting you screwed up. Not being able to return the money. We don't speak enough about the hard stuff. Opening up your heart. Having it crushed into a million pieces. Having to let down love you cannot quite requite. Having to let go of a relationship that isn't working for you. A breakup. A breakup of a

 This blog used to be titled "Musings of a self-confessed geek", and the URL "mostlygibberish.blogspot.com". I had started this blog circa 2008, and the blog identity I had created for my writing reflected my self-perception at the time. As I resurfaced this blog last year, I had been feeling that I didn't like the name. It would irk me every time I looked at the title of the blog, or when I would share the URL with you all. I felt that it didn't fully reflect who I am.  Who I am is an elusive concept I am still grappling with, but I know  that I don't write gibberish, and I certainly do not identify with the geek description, much less the self-confessed part of it. Whenever the annoyance increased, I would ask the question - if not this then what?, and I said this would stay until I organically came up with a better one.  Having been raised in a culture that appreciates humility, especially in a woman, it had become a practiced art to show up as less t