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Prolific writer-activist-thinker Arundhati Roy's memoir, an ode to her mother's formidable personality, is cleverly titled, Mother Mary Comes to Me. Below the title is a picture of young Roy nonchalantly smoking a bidi. Irreverence, thy name is Arundhati Roy! At 372 pages, it is a tome, a sweeping saga that recollects both her mother's remarkable life, as well as her own. Is it a Memoir? Yes and no. Though the book title refers to their mother-daughter relationship, the book - at several junctures treats each one of them as independent and exclusive from one another. In fact, for a good part, her mother finds no mention at all, and the reader is engrossed reading about Roy's exploits and struggles through Architecture College, early attempts to find her vocation and calling, her dabbling with cinema, acting, scriptwriting; her romantic liaisons with the luscious JC, Sanjay, Pradeep et al. A life as extraordinary and unapologetic as Arundhati's mesmerizes in itself. ...

Festivals are happy times, right? Time for merriment, revelry, celebration, enjoying yourself... Wrong! Studies show festivals call for a steady spike in stress levels. Cortisol shoots up, starting with preparation for festivals, and remains high throughout, in the quest to do everything perfectly, "at least during the festival". Guess who bears the brunt of this? Yes, its the one who takes emotional labour for everyone she cares for - the woman of the house. She wants everything to be perfect, so works her ass off tidying and cleaning things. Then she wants her family to be fed well, so spends hours toiling away making delicacies in the kitchen. Rangoli to be painted - there she is with the brush. Festoons to be hung up - she's balancing herself on a stool. Furniture rearranged, flowers put up, puja room decorated? Yes, only one person who signs up for all this. Then there's the stress of the whole family at home, stepping on each other's toes. She has to appease...

That Pujo feeling! Kaash phul swaying, clear skies with a smattering of clouds and crowds everywhere....Pandals being constructed, idols given finishing touches! Last- minute frenzied shopping, beauty parlour visits, et al. This year, Ma Durga arrives early at the end of September. Which means hot, sticky days and muggy nights with intermittent drizzles. Fashion therefore, has to prioritize comfort above everything else. And we women know how the pressure to look good often makes us squeeze into uncomfortable outfits. So do we say goodbye to traditional flowing wear? Of course, not! With a little bit of imagination, traditional wear can be the best bet in heat and humidity. Let's see which sarees are hot this season: Source - Dora by Phoenix Cotton, mul and linen sarees with quirky prints or floral design. Think soft fabric that doesn't make you break out in a sweat. Painted with florals or eclectic motifs. Or printed with quirky symbols like the yellow taxi or the Howrah bridg...

Just returned from a solo trip to Shantiniketan! My first trip without family or friends! I had gone for a couple of days to attend a literature festival at a resort on the outskirts of Shantiniketan.  Since it's almost sharatkaal, the kaash phul was in full bloom along the roadside! It had just rained, leaving everything verdant all around with different shades of green! I started out from Bolpur station to my resort in a toto, passing fields and stretches of green. The resort - Raktakorobi Karugram was in quite a remote area, and there was no mobile network in my room, so my first reaction was, "Where have I landed?"  Thankfully wi-fi solved the problem a bit. The atmosphere was of calm and solitude, and gave a feeling of peace. My next day passed in the festival, making new acquaintances, talking about my book, and networking with like-minded people. It was an exhilarating feeling, listening to interesting discussions, as well as being appreciated and feted for my talk...

A curious phenomenon has taken place over the years. Technology has advanced in leaps, modern medicine has become far more effective, we can control pain and disease far better, mental health is getting due attention, there are more avenues for creativity and entertainment.  Yet.... We are no longer able to be really happy. We are a chronically unhappy people. Forever dissatisfied, never content. Always thinking about the past or the future, never enjoying the moment. Think about it. When was the last time you were really, truly, wholly happy? Blissful, joyful? You slog hard at office, get that deserved raise/promotion, party hard to celebrate, and yet at the end of the day, a hollowness creeps in. An emptiness, a feeling of futility. You have a grand wedding - its the stuff Instagram dreams are made of. Your sweetheart looks like a million bucks with the latest designer lehenga, you yourself are spruced up, your family and friends are beaming, the event is going on swimmingly. Yet...

Does motherhood belong solely to the birth giver? Or does it encompass anyone who nurtures and cherishes the child? Does an adoptive mother- busy with her career, disqualify as a mother? Or is a nanny cum housekeeper the actual mother? She who mothers both mother and daughter with a fierce loyalty.  Image - IMDb Or is it the father, who embraces both roles of mother and father with a natural flair, become the child's prime mother, the safe place she so badly desires? Aniruddha Roy Choudhury's Dear Maa provokes you with these prickly questions....it's a rare Bangla film that actually prods your brain and heart. In today's gadget-addicted world, who is actually the mother or the parent whom the child seeks? Is it wrong if she "betrays" her adoptive family by seeking out her original mother? No easy answers to these messy posers. Better to follow the heart, and become a heart mother or father. And allow the child to choose her path, without resorting to emotiona...