Sonia Kuncalienker

This is how families function : Wife (to the husband, sitting in the same room) : Listen, when I go out this evening, please remind me to go to the tailor and also while returning, to collect the library books. Okay, please? Note the decent tone and niceties. Husband, almost as if even before wife […]

This Women’s Day. This women’s day, I pity you, man. I pity your armour – the one that doesn’t allow you open grieving, the heaving of the bosom, the snorting of the nose when the cries turn into loud sobs. The weeping that gets deeply connected with your thoughts, the wry smiles when the cries

“What time are we supposed to meet him?” I asked Sidharth Kuncalienker. It was late Sunday evening, and along with a visiting USAian (the only way I can describe them – almost like an alien ; but not even quite there) friend, we were out to meet someone to buy a few odds and ends. “Seven.

The girls are returning home.You can see them – the girls returning home from work. Its little after six, dusk is settling in; the regular offices are shutting down for the day – and you see them. The freshly-minted , as yet unmarried girls , returning to their homes after work. This is a different journey

Let them be. The purple colour hair-dye I never tried.The tattoo , I am wishing for since the big Four-Oh!The delish vegetables I forsake The travels I do in my mind.The sarees I drape , unseenThe calm I wished I mastered The art I am unable to appreciateThe clumsiness in me, I bring everywhereThe odd-timed

You are Durga; C’Mon, scream out your lungsDon’t you put on the Fairness Cream; you are Kali after all You are MahaGauri ; not just plain Jane-Gauri.You better be Happy and Hilarious(Oops, Sorry. No Woman is Ever Told to be Hilarious)What a waste of woman talent. Cook delectable a la Annapurna Devi.Cook : Cook Food,

You are Deepawali. You aren’t defined by the dripping faucet;the one you “wished repaired” by DeepawaliYou are the one who still ensures a dry floor. You aren’t defined by the rangoli you never made;the one you “pinterest wished” for Deepawali.You are the one who brings your true colours everywhere. You aren’t defined by the family

Oh, Yes we are. Fat, Harried Mothers.Our Hips have lost track of your waistsWe have lost track of our husbands.But, we are determined –We believe, very strongly so – that with every unwanted morsel of food stashedIn our brattish precocious children, we believe we are creating that next Albert Einstein We are so inspired by

“Just charge my phone, please.” I say to no one in particular, and yet it means to everyone within earshot. No one stirs. As if. “Hey, please just put my phone on the charger.” I indicate to my husband, breaking down the process, lest he think that charging wife’s phone is rocket-science. “I don’t know

“Hey, listen, we never did a pre-wedding shoot.”“Okay.”“That’s not a good response.”“Well, I agree with you.”“That’s not good enough, but I will take it. I really feel nostalgic that we didn’t do a pre-wedding shoot.”“You are feeling nostalgic for something you didn’t do? I don’t think that is technically allowed.”“Well, the word may be wrong,