My Views and Ideas: Life and Parenting

Life’s most profound moments often sneak up on us in the middle of the mundane. For me, those moments are often found at the kitchen sink, with my daughter, "T," by my side. While I scrub the dishes, we talk — not about schedules or tasks, but about life, feelings, and the things that matter most. That day was no different. As the water ran and the soap bubbles floated, I found myself sharing a thought I’d been carrying for a while. Me: "You know, T, when you were little, I thought as you grew up, I’d see a younger version of myself in you. I imagined you’d be just like me when I was your age." T: "So, what do you think now?" I paused, looking at her, my lively, curious daughter who lights up every room she enters. Me: "I don’t think I was like you at all, sweetheart. I was very different." She tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "In what ways, Mama?" I explained that I’d been a quiet, introverted child, preferring to stay in the ...

I still remember being in 8th grade when all the girls were asked to stay back after school for an extra hour. We were puzzled, whispering among ourselves, trying to guess what was going on. None of us had any clue what awaited us. Our questions were answered when the health counselor arrived. She began explaining a phenomenon that would soon become a significant part of our lives—a cycle that would visit us every month for many years. She talked about how to handle it when the time came and handed each of us a packet of sanitary napkins. I vividly recall sitting there, feeling a mix of awe and dread, wondering how I could possibly survive bleeding for four days every month. But I did survive—and eventually, it became second nature. Back then, and even now to some extent, periods were a topic shrouded in secrecy. No one talked about them openly, let alone wrote about them in blog posts like this. I still chuckle remembering how my father would immediately leave the room during televisi...

There comes a moment in life when we’re faced with a choice: stay within the safety of what we know or step into the unknown. A few years ago, I stood at that crossroads, grappling with self-doubt and fear, yet yearning for growth. This is the story of the day I chose courage over comfort—and how it changed me. It began with an unexpected decision. It was August 8th, 2016. I had come across a job posting for a "Market Development Assistant" and, on a whim, decided to apply. Deep down, I was sure I wouldn’t make it. My resume was devoid of professional experience, but I chose honesty over pretense. In the application, I wrote: "I have no experience working in a professional environment, but I am eager to learn and willing to work hard." I wanted to start this journey with integrity, trusting that my determination would speak louder than my lack of experience. Days later, the phone rang. A polite voice invited me to schedule an interview. My heart raced as I mumbled m...

Some times I wonder how important is the precision of language when you are trying to simply communicate with one another. When we were kids our Language teacher used to say that precision of language is one of the most important task we need to understand, because  the consequences depend upon what we are conveying through our precise use of language. To a large extent she was so right. Instead of "snack" if we ask for "smack" ,we should indeed get a smack. That is what precision is. Then few days back I was listening to a language program and the host said, "as long as you are able to convey the message depending on the situation it is fine." Few grammar mistakes here and there, don't  matter much as long as you are able to connect to the person. The main idea is being connected while communicating. You can pinpoint or embarrass the person for wrong usage of grammar once in a while, but that does not do any good to the person, it just makes the p...

Just a few days ago, I was exercising and listening to a podcast by Ram Dass, an American spiritual teacher who studied at Stanford University and authored many influential books. In the episode, he shared a five-line phrase that struck me almost immediately: “Don’t prolong the past, Don’t invite the future, Don’t alter your innate wakefulness – Don’t fear appearances. There is nothing more than that!” As I listened, I felt an almost aching clarity. Ram Dass’s words sounded so simple and direct—yet embodying them feels like an unreachable ideal. I find myself doing the exact opposite, dwelling on past memories, especially painful ones. I replay them in my mind, again and again, as if each repetition makes the hurt feel more real, more permanent. One painful thought leads to another. The more I dwell on these memories, the more I begin to worry about the future. I start imagining the ways things could go wrong, bracing myself for heartbreak before it even happens. It’s as if I’m stuck i...

People often say that daughters grow up with a deeper empathy and honesty toward their parents, both in their youth and later in life. Initially, I doubted this sentiment, but as time passes, I see more truth in it. In contrast, sons often become more practical, perhaps too much so, and tend to overlook the efforts their parents have made over the years, taking for granted the sacrifices given on their behalf. Perhaps my perspective is flawed, yet this has been my observation. I see it in my brothers, in friends, in their husbands, and even within extended family—men often seem to show less allegiance to their parents. And this realization pains me deeply. Although life hasn't always unfolded as I’d hoped, I have never placed the blame on my parents for the disappointments I've faced. I believe, wholeheartedly, that they did everything they could, giving me whatever they thought was best. The things they didn’t provide weren’t withheld out of neglect or bias but out of a genuin...

I recently read a book by H.G Wells, "The Time Machine". I started off reading the book with a little skepticism because I am usually not fascinated with such fictional events, but some where down the line I thought I will give it a try. Moreover that day I did not have any book to read, so I picked up this book and said, "ok why not". The truth is, I read the classic Start version of the the book which is much easier to understand. I usually borrow these classical books in "classic Start" version because it is easier for my kids to understand and get interested in literature to later enjoy the original version of the book. Anyway, I started reading the book and by the end of the day I realized I have already finished the book as it was so interesting. I was marveling at the idea of being able to traveling in time in future or in past. After reading I had mixed feeling. Emotionally I was very scared at the thoughts described by the author when he wen...

Ayodhya, Diwali, and the Unanswered Questions of Sita When I think of Ayodhya, I think of patriarchy—a place where male rulers, male dynasties, and male ideals were exalted. The Ramayana, retold by Tulsidas, is an epic that has inspired generations, but I hesitate to encourage my daughters to read it in its entirety. The story reflects many virtues, yet parts of it leave me questioning the values it promotes, especially regarding women’s place and agency. For me, this perspective is not a rejection of tradition nor a result of contemporary discourses on feminism. It’s a view that took root long ago, when I was barely twelve or thirteen, and it solidified through my own life experiences—especially the day I left my father’s home to live with my husband and adjust to a new family’s traditions after getting married. This transition highlighted for me the stark expectations that women shoulder in society. Many of us find pride in goddesses like Durga, Lakshmi, and Saraswati, believing them...

Yesterday was my oldest daughter’s birthday; she turned 17. It’s hard to believe how fast the years have flown by—it feels like just yesterday we brought her home from the hospital. She was so tiny, the most adorable, sweet little being I’d ever held in my arms. From that moment, my world changed completely. In those early days, I was swept up in emotional highs and lows. I remember the soft baby coos, the milestones we celebrated, the sweet babble of our first conversations. She was clingy back then, always wanting to be near me, which made me feel deeply needed—not just as a mother, but as her caregiver, her safe place. It reassured me, too, that I was raising a little human who would one day become my confidant, my lifelong companion. When she was born, my own mother shared her wisdom, telling me that my daughter would grow up to be my lifelong companion, someone who would be close to me in a way no one else could. My mother and I had a bond that felt timeless, and she reassured me ...