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Farah Bashir's Rumours of Spring recounts her own experiences as a girl growing up in turbulent Kashmir. The book is semi-autobiographical and recalls the horrors of insurgency in Kashmir, particularly it's devastating effects on the lives of ordinary people. Each part of the book describes a particular phase in her life. Growing up in the 90s, when terrorism besieged Kashmir, she recounts how her family - living in a large mansion in downtown Srinagar, bears the brunt of losses in family business, snatching way of personal freedoms, simple pleasures and mostly, the liberty to live the life they want.  The language is intimate, drawing you within, as if you are a fly on the wall in her drawing room, observing things. She paints images through her words and descriptions. Of a shuttered window, of an abandoned attic, of closed cinema halls, and barbed wires, marching boots and flashing searchlights.  She focuses on the impact that army clampdowns and constant policing had on ord...

The recent horrifying, stomach-churning incident in Kolkata is not a one-time aberration. It keeps occuring in our country. And we women are also responsible for this stinking rot in society. Ask yourself these uncomfortable questions. How many of you protest when a girl wearing "revealing clothes" is cat-called?  Did you show your support for our wrestlers protesting against a habitual offender? Did your blood boil when you saw pictures of our sisters in Manipur paraded naked?  When rapists are released from prison or routinely escape punishment, do you raise your voice? How many of you have tolerated violence or even casual sexism in your own home? Do you turn the other way when transgenders are leered at? Do you grin and bear it when the men in your family crack obscene jokes? Do Kathua and Hathras ring a bell? And lastly, how many of you thronged cinema halls to make misogynistic horrors like Animal and Kabir Singh blockbusters? I have asked myself and am distinctly feeli...

My beloved country India is at the threshold of completing 77 years of independence. Its certainly a joyous occasion, one that needs to be cherished and celebrated.  Then why am I not feeling like celebrating? Why does my spirit dampen like the dark clouds? Why am I not proud of what my country has become? Why does a heavy sadness weigh on my heart? Because I am aware of what is around me. For one, inequality is at a historic high. While an appalling number of people are still sleeping hungry, without a roof over their head, we hear of never-seen before monstrous wedding celebrations. We learn that 2% Indians are worth more than 80% Indians' collective net wroth. We see open flouting of norms, rules, standards to manipulate the market and secure profits. We know ballots are being tampered. We hear judges being threatened, we see the police serving the powerful.  Students burning the midnight oil to clear unbelievably tough competitive exams are being cheated of a fair chance o...

Its an open secret that the education system in India is in a mess. Examinations are still considered the touchstone of a student's worth. Relentless suicides and the running away of young children from home under academic pressure, have not been able to dent our obsession with marks. The IITs and IIMs are still Meccas for the middle class, and getting into them means enrolling their child in coaching factories in Kota. Doesn't matter whether they can cope or opt to tie a noose around their neck. How does a otherwise good student deal with this pressure to excel, particularly when her performance has not been to her satisfaction? How does parental scrutiny and censure hit a young vulnerable mind? This excerpt from my story will give an idea: Excerpt from Can I Wash Off the Shame? Ma and Dad were making such a big deal about the ICSE results, she was really worried. She – their only child, the sole flagbearer of their ambitions, what if she didn’t perform that well and did just ...

Writing isn't easy or immediately rewarding, but still I love to write. Maybe because I have so many things to share, so many anecdotes to tell, so many lives to vicariously live. Would you like to know about my second book, and why I wrote it? A glance at Fragrance of Dried Flowers My second book, Fragrance of Dried Flowers , as the name suggests, deals with the paradox of dried flowers having their own fragrance, a rare kind of beauty. It is the imperfect people who create happiness, build relationships with love, and seek solace within themselves. If we, as parents, can contribute our bit by being less critical, less judgmental, and more forgiving, the world would truly be a happier place. Parents, particularly mothers, have a strong role in shaping the lives of their children. A mother’s unconditional love is critical in the life of a child. She can bolster her child’s self-esteem with her kind words and constant support, or break it with her rejection. In the story, “ Ca...

Hollywood has a way with animation films that strike the right balance between entertainment and life lessons. And Disney coupled with Pixar is a match made in heaven! What gems they have given us - Inside Out being the most amazing one. A brilliant film that personified emotions and took us into a tween girl's headspace, it won the Oscar for best animation film that year. Now the sequel comes with a lot of viewer expectations riding on it. Part 2 doesn't disappoint, but doesn't fascinate either. Diving into Riley's head just as she crosses 13, one would have expected more of a complexed story. Instead, the film focuses on the ice-hockey tournament that Riley is preparing for, and the introduction of new emotions, notably anxiety. Anxiety hogs a lot of space, both in terms of screen space and the way it messes up Riley. True, it does control a large part of a teenager's life, but so do confusion, angst, bewilderment and changing priorities. Wish the film t...

Part 2 of my travel diary to Kashmir starts here.  Day 3 We left Srinagar after our boat ride on Dal Lake, stopped at Pulwama for a quick lunch, then proceeded on national highway towards Pahalgam. Passing some pretty villages and oh-so-picturesque spots on the road, we travelled on till the air became distinctly chillier and the snow thicker on peaks. We reached at 8.30, and the inky blue skies revealed icy peaks all around. The river Lidder was running along, and our guest house was situated a stone's throw away. That meant that it was really COLD! Yes, Pahalgam is situated on a higher plane, and is a good 6-7 degrees lower in temperature than crowded Srinagar. At nights, the temperature drops to 3 even in peak summer! A recent snowfall had caused the chill to increase, and we rushed to our room for warmth of a heater. Unfortunately, power being a problem, there was no room heater. Electric mattresses were fitted on the bed, that took their own sweet time to warm up. The rooms we...