Meine Reise nach Chandigarh

Hallo Leute! Im 2017 waren wir (Madhvi, Kritika, Paras, Ashwarya, Sonali) eine Reise nach Chandigarh gemacht. Wir sind mit Auto gefahren. Chandigarh ist sehr schön. Das Wetter war Perfekt! Die Stadt ist sehr gut geplant. Wir waren in Chandigarh für einen Tag.

Es gab viele Cafes und Sehenwurdigkeiten in Chandigarh. Zuerst haben wir Rock Garden und Rose Garden besucht. Dann sind wir zurück Hotel gekommen. Später haben wir in Pal Dhaba Butter Chicken gegessen. Und dann sind wir zum Sector 17 gegangen und dort haben wir geshoppt. Wir haben Souvenirs und Kleidung gekauft. Am Abend haben wir Sukhana Lake besucht. Zum Schluss sind wir zum Tej Bahadur Gurudwara gegangen. Der Urlaub war Super. 

Mein Reiseblog

Hallo aus Ha Long Bay! Ich mache meinen Urlaub in Nordvietnam. Ich bin mit meinem Mann reisen. Das Wetter ist warm aber schön. Es ist windig. Heute sind wir in Ha Long Bay in einem Schiff. Die Aussicht ist Toll! Am Heute Nacht bleiben wir hier und am Morgen frühstücken am Deck. Hier essen die Leute normalweise Pho und Obst zum Frühstück. Dann gehen wir mit dem Boot Limestone Höhlen sehen. Man kann auch hier Tauchen. Du musst auch Vietnam besuchen.

Another rainy day

It was a rainy day and just like that he was 66. I could hardly see any wrinkles on his face. Working a 6 day, 9 hours a day still looked easy as it had 25 years ago. Taking public transport and walking to work , no problem to start at 60! Running errands and doing chores every morning and Sundays was still a piece of cake. He never needed help, he never even had a cavity. He is ageless.

Demonetization left me with no cash and cabs decided to go on a strike. So, I called him. I knew I could always rely on him to hitch a ride from the metro station parking. It was winter in Delhi (or at least supposed to be) and I was standing at the platform of a Gurgaon metro station watching water falling from the sky like cats and dogs. It had been a rather unpleasant day at work and all I wanted was to reach home and sketch or watch television. I watched the millions of immigrants waiting at the station in groups bitching about their day and munching on chips.

After skipping 3 trains I finally managed to get on one. A lonely woman was eating her feelings with a happy meal from McDonald's. Another girl next to her was yelling at her boyfriend and crying her heart out. A couple sharing popcorn in between the ladies coach and general coach should have really gotten a room. The driver decided the press the brakes hard and I landed on a pile of something on the floor which turned out to be a person sleeping on the floor. After regaining my balance I composed myself and tried reading my book.

Twenty three long minutes later I arrived at my station and ran to the parking into a puddle. I was finally in the car shivering. "I need to go the market, do you mind waiting in the car for 5," said my father. I knew it wouldn't be 5 minutes. I would take an hour to reach home! Why did he still go to those markets? I thought to myself. "Sure. I will move it around if required." I replied with a smile.

He started to drive and the windshield was fogging up. The traffic as one can imagine was hellish. Suddenly, the guy on the bike was hit. It just only touched him so he didn't lose his balance but he turned around to give the Delhi traffic stare to us. Looking at a young girl with an old man who instantly apologized, the biker turned back. My father started to scratch his knee. He always did that when he was uncomfortable. And just like that he was scared. He drove at 10 km/h and somehow reached the destination. While waiting for him I had to shift to the driver's seat and move the car around.

Coming back to the car he quietly sat in the passenger seat. It was the first time he didn't argue over who was going to drive. In the entire journey he looked down. I'd never seen him feel so small and helpless. He was old now, at least a little.

Strong parents never seem to age and one day they break. We never think we'll have to take care of them. Don't get me started on how they violently they react when we do try to help. Strong parents are too proud to ask for help. Aren't we as a race of people best at sweeping things under the rug?

So I said nothing. He said nothing. The rain seemed to be stopping and the windshield was clearing up little by little. He sat there with his face down like a kid who lost his basketball game or failed a test. I didn't know how to help him and then it struck me to just mess up too. I raced down a slope and drove fast over a divider. "See, that's not how you drive. How many times do I have to teach you this? It can be very dangerous beta. You see now why I drive so safely"

And there it was...his smile. I bet he slept well at night knowing I still need him.

Tring tring

Now that it is about to one year since Mr. Bhowmick (@ankanbhowmick) and I started Studio Nautilus, I have many experiences to share of managing a design studio.

When we were working as designers, we had to design and manage clients sometimes. But as business owners we do everything! We are the office boys, receptionists, cleaning staff, designers, client servicing, copywriters, studio people etc. There have been days when other activities have taken all our day and we can’t help but start designing at 9pm and order the most unhealthy food to keep us up. Post 9pm, no clients call us and no admin work bothers us. The nights are calm and cold and we get great work done. We have tried to pull many all-nighters but at 1am we lose some passion and decide to call it an early night.

Over these months, we have also collected many assets. Each time we earn that money to buy what we need it fills us with the same joy that a rich kid has when they receive a ferrari for their 18th birthday. Actually, maybe more. We are now proud owners of 2 macbook pros, 2 printers, 2 screens, 1 centre table, 1 tea kettle, our own high speed internet connection and an office landline! There are many more tinier things but all very important. It seems like you’re the coolest person alive. The joy of working hard to make these little things possible is amazing.

And then of course there is the design. The authority to fire an annoying or unethical client is amazing. We are no longer stuck in a work place wherein we have all the responsibility and no authority. We can also choose what to charge for a project, whether or not we want to do it. Call us arrogant, but if we had to be slaves to clients we would have continue working for others. In one year, my design skills have matured and focused as this has a direct implication to what projects I will find in future.

We have explored our hobbies in our own style. Our own little venture- Chomp Chomp has been easy, fun and kept us busy when we didn’t have much work. Combination of my hunt for food and Mr. Bhowmick’s depiction of it in photography, we have successfully written 18 articles in 1 year. I know it’s not enough but who’s judging.

I wish this zeal and excitement lasts even when we have enough money and work. For now I can for the first ever time say, “Call me.  011-41008783.”

A woman's BFF

I always wonder why women do it to each other? She must foul mouth her best friend. She must comment on every girl's body, hair and clothes. She must compare herself with every woman she knows and pretend to feel superior while in her head she only feels low on confidence.

Imagine a group of 4 teenage friends who claim to be very close to each other. Two of them fight, the other two will pick a side and wouldn't wait to start bitching. Go to a party and you will find two women who discover they are wearing the same clothes turn into mortal enemies. Alternately, pick up the newspaper and you will find that women ask for dowry from other women. Women set rules about clothing. Women judge other women on most aspects men are blamed for. You are an outcast if you miss a birthday party.

I'm not saying men are right but the way they treat each other is fabulous. If they disagree on something, they punch each other and forget about it. They never talk about people like women do. They have a strong bond.

When women see a friend after a few years they said- have you gained weight? or what happened to your skin? or I heard your boyfriend broke up with you, how are you holding up? In their head they just calculate whether they are doing better. If they feel they aren't, they would talk more and dig into their 'friend's' life to find some filth that they can use to feel better about themselves.

Women judge everyone. While they would judge another woman on her physical appearance and how anything that happens in her life is influenced by it, a man would be judged on his pure ability to make money. It seems women think they are inferior as they do not want to compete with men on a mental level.

There has been a lot on debate on issues like dowry, rape, female feticide and other evils on women. They are really sad issues but I hate to say most of the times women don't support other women in such issues. If a boy's mother asks for dowry, the girl does be a party to giving it to them. A girl should just get up and leave her wedding. Take a stand. If a girl is not getting education, she should fight for it.

But look at us. Look at how petty we are. We don't want to earn money ourselves and let men pay. We let them pamper us. We prepare our bodies by working out not to be healthier but be desirable while he comes with a beer belly and bald head thinking he's the most attractive man on earth. Then we complain that we are ill-treated. Fill our head with garbage and leave no space for peace and knowledge.

When our friends meet us, how many go beyond the physical appearance and actually discuss a book or debate on politics? I know women who claim to be good lawyers but think having pre-marital sex is illegal in their country. Women working in news channels who don't even know the prime minister or how many states are in India. All they want to do is obsess over their weight, party on Saturday and bitch about other women.

Women do not know friendship. No matter what they claim or think they believe. They judge other women on petty issues. They are incapable of standing up for each other till there is a big sensational news where they suddenly feel sisterly love.

Peas in a pod

Oh! That notorious little magical pea in a pod. In that basket there were lots of pods and she was not welcome.  She would often run away from the pod and was not welcome back. All she wanted was a pod where she fit, all she wanted was a pod where she fit.

First, she went to a tiny pod. Oh! how scared the other peas were.

Then, she went to a big pod. Oh! how tiny she was.

She then tried a new pod. Oh! how old she was.

Then she tried an old pod. Oh! how young she was.

Then she tried a green pod. Oh! how blue she was.

In the whole round basket, there was no pod where she belonged. No pod that she longed for. This wait had been quite prolonged.

The tired blue oddly sized middle aged pea then found a corner. A dark corner which scared her more. She would look up at all the pods she'd once been a part of and wondered where she belonged? Was there any place in the round basket where she fit?

This city scares me

I feel scared in New Delhi. The nights scare me. Walking in the dark scares me. Standing in the dark scares me.

I suspect every man in the car who looks at me while taking a turn. I don't want to believe he is looking at the road. I increase my pace when a see a group of men, maybe harmless. I watch my back after every step I take. I feel restless till I find a place with a big family buying ice cream. Soon I realize, they won't help me if someone tried to harm me. No one helps anyone in this city. No one can trust anyone.

A man lying injured on the road could actually have with a gun. A truck driver asking for instructions could abduct me. A cool looking basement cafe could be a trap. You can't get mobile reception there and who would be able to trace you.

I always thought I was safe if I were with a man I trusted but now I know he will be powerless when we are surrounded by a group. I only breathe a sigh of relief when I reach my house, lock it and see my parents around. Sometimes I feel it is better to not go out.

But why shouldn't I? I am a citizen with equal rights and I fulfill all my duties. I work hard during the day like a man does. I pay taxes and all my bills. I am an adult. Then why is it that women should either hide or just protest for their safety?

Everyone is happy till they are safe. Protests turn into branding exercises of celebrities and fade out.

What hurts me the most is that there are actually some women who discourage other women from standing up for their rights. We should first be strong and be equal. We should fight for equality in every situation we are in and not surrender thinking it is too small an issue to raise a fight for.

We deserve to be out at any hour we want to be without bodyguards. We deserve to wear what we like.  We deserve every opportunity that comes our way and we need to realize that.

I don't want to hide and feel safe. I just want to have a good time without constantly worrying about my safety.

Little A: Chapter 2

The three children rushed into the gate of Sulem Serai's garden. The winter flowers had blossomed. The grass was bright green and wet. Little A took his shoes off and started jumping on the grass. He ran and jumped. When he fell down, he turned around and saw the clouds in the sky. Most children find ponies and candies in the clouds but Little A said, "Ah, the clouds look so free today. The abstract shapes are interacting and rushing from here to there. There is so much chaos, yet so balanced." Then he gets up and picks up a flower. Excited Little A runs to Anandita and said, "Ani Ani, look it forms the golden spiral. See see, the ratio is" "Shut up weirdo!' she yelled. 'Why don't you go get us some candies?" "I don't know where to get them from, I don't eat candies' 'Let me help you with the direction. Dad took us the last time we were here. Here's what you do, take a right, then left, then right, then left." Anupam laughed at the back. Little A threw the flower and ran home. He tried to open and door in a rush but he keeps struggling. He wants to cry but was always taught tears make a person weak. He starts to bang on the door hard. All of this makes his breath heavy. His face turns blue. And he can't knock anymore. He starts blacking out when his mother opens the door listen to the banging earlier. "Oh no, Babu are you alright?" She carried him inside and warmed his palms and feet. Simultaneously, his father prepared his inhaler. They ask him to rest. He is tucked into a warm blanket and slowly falls asleep. The mother turned at the door to see him sleep calmly. She takes a deep breath and switches off the light with a tear in her eye that she tries to hide. A wakes up well rested at night. It was past 12am and he realized it was his birthday. He never enjoyed parties or other children. He didn't enjoy chocolate cakes or balloons. The moonlight was creeping into his room. If it was something Little A loved it was the moonlight. If it was one thing that little A was fearless towards, it was darkness. Little A looked outside the window and saw a beautiful teenage girl on the road. She had stepped out with a cup of tea. Little A rushed and opened his closet. He threw all his clothes away and found his camera. He loved his camera. The teenage girl had a steam of tea around her face. As she sipped the hot tea, the 7 year old boy clicked beautiful photographs of the girl. Then he clicked the wind chimes, then the street light and he kept going. He went to the little dark room he'd created in his house. He skipped through his parents room quietly and processed those photographs. Oh! What joy. He heard his parents waking up and creeps back into bed. Closes his eyes and pretends to fall asleep. Mr. B comes to his sons room when little A shuts his eyes hard. 'It's ok son, I know what you were upto. Not a bad job. Still a long journey to go. But you're smarter, keep art as a hobby, just a hobby.' Mr. B starts walking towards the door. Little A removes his blanket and looks at his father leaving. 'And son'. Little A puts the blanket back up. 'Happy Birthday, do study a lot today.'

Little A(working title): Chapter 1

Chapter 1 The sky was full of smog. Little A wipes the frost off his fat glasses and looks outside the large window in Allahbad.He takes his tiny hands and rubs the window pane. As he peeps closer, his brown eyes sparkled with joy and his incisors dug further into his chin. "Mother, can I go out to play today? Please please." says A."Go go son, get out of here before your mother sees you." winks his father. Little A jumps and runs towards the door but the door knob is shut. Little A turns back and asks, "Father, which side did the door open again?" "To the right buddy. Run along now, your uncle and I are discussing something." A turns back and opens the door knob. Once to the right, again to the right and he keeps going but the door wouldn't open. There is chaos in his head. He is frightened and his palms and forehead are sweaty. There is no sense that he can make. He wants to scream out loud but they would mock him again. He wants to ask for help but they would mock him again. The uncle sits back and laughs loudly. "Good for nothing." The furious father looks at his brother. The brother stopped laughing and suddenly, they heard the door open and bangles clinging. "Remember what I taught you Babu. The door opens on the side we have stuck your painting." Pointing at the abstract painting stuck to the door. 'Whenever you get confused, look at your work and believe in yourself. Where your work lies is always the 'right' direction for you." A's forehead starts to relax when his uncle shouts, "Hold on! Take your cousins also. They are out on a holiday to spend time with you!" A didn't like the thought of playing with his Mumbai cousins. He looked at his mother and started hiding in her saree's drape. "Take them son, I promise it will be fine," said the father looking at his uncle sternly while the uncle nods his head. "Anandita and Anupam, go out and play with A. I shouldn't hear any complaints from that boy."