Don't let this be my India.

A five year old girl was raped in my country.  

Each word is drenched in so much pain, shame, anger and misery. I usually steer clear of politics and the like on my personal space – it’s never been my thing. But now..I am raising my voice.

Because I feel I must and because I know I can. And because if we don’t do it now, each and every time this happens… things may never change.

I raise my voice as a woman. In my country, the government campaigns to save the girl child. It is against the law to find out the gender of an unborn child. Bravo.

But in my country, women are raped every day. The parents of a raped five year old girl, were offered money to keep quiet about the horror their child had been put through. By the police.  It plays like a dreadful horror story, some documentary that you watch and never believe could happen so close to home.

The same government that fights to protect the unborn girl child, cannot keep her safe when she comes into the world – after the initial hullabaloo, the government seems to feign a practiced ignorance. More ‘important’ things happen and the atrocities are swept under the rug.

Women are raped. Girls are raped. A child – raped. Women deserve more. They deserve justice and rights, without news channels playing painful footage and angry debates all day long. Without protests, marches, candlelit vigils. Women deserve more, without having to shout from the rooftops about it.  To be treated with respect from the beginning, to the end. This cannot be immediate, but it is definitely not impossible. Accord them the protection they deserve.

I raise my voice as a mother. Any female who goes through this nightmare , is someone’s daughter. A mother somewhere, feels the indescribable pain of her heart breaking inside her. Anguish at being able to do nothing to protect her child. Anger that the government, seems to be playing too stupid to understand.

Violated at five. Raped, beaten, defiled.

Five. FIVE. Good Lord, five is a baby. Five is innocent and pure. Five is a little angel who still marvels at rain on a school morning and secretly wants a chocolate before going to bed. Five is cruel, wrong, sick. It is complete and unadulterated evil.  

I have read that we must condition our children from a young age, regarding living with equal rights and equal respect. Sure. I am more than ready to start at home. To teach our boys that women are not to be ogled at and teach our girls their worth, not to mention quite possibly jujitsu.  That right from the playground, girls are not to be bullied. I can try and handle the tomorrows.

But is my government ready to take a stand on the crimes against women today? Impose a deserving punishment, given the hideous crime? As my government, this is what I expect you to do. You are the law, are you not? Do these cases not deserve precedence over a film star slated to spend a few years in jail? Do not make a joke out of these horrific events. When we cannot save and protect our children, DO NOT waste my time showing me a plea from members of the film fraternity and the public to lessen or do away with a court verdict. Do not insult my intelligence and mock my sentiments.  

I raise my voice as an Indian. This is not the country I have defended countless times.  This cannot possibly be the government I elected, hoping for a better tomorrow. These cannot be the law enforcement representatives whom we trust to make a shining India for our children. This is not the country I call my own. It can’t be.

The constitution speaks of my rights as a citizen. A right to equality, freedom, my right against exploitation.  Do  you constantly need to be reminded of this? सत्यमेव जयते. Truth alone triumphs.  The truth is staring you in the face.  Now what?

If the government does not feel the urge to go out and fight for the rights of these women – know that as a government, you have failed. We as a country, have failed. Repeatedly, miserably, shamelessly.  Your nuclear power and your armies are worth tosh, if you can’t protect your people from the evil that lies within. Get back to the basics. Honor your people, protect them.  

To everyone in the Indian government who can make a difference in this mess we seem to be drowning in, but is perhaps waiting for some sort of divine intervention  – here is food for thought. This woman has been to hell and back. Iron rods, candles, hair oil bottles – you’ve heard these words again and again. In a country as big as ours, there is probably much more happening. Our monsters are slowing crawling out from under our beds. The woman will believe she is cursed, unloved and of no consequence to anyone. She will understand that this is the life she and her daughters will be condemned to live, with no one to champion their cause. She will never be able to love and she will never be accepted, thanks to society. She will rot on the inside and she will die.

Now imagine that this woman is your blood. Your mother, who gave you life. Your sister, who laughed and played with you, tied a rakhi around your wrist. Your daughter, whom you held and vowed to take care of forever when you first held her in your arms.

Harsh? Perhaps. True? Undoubtedly. Do not live in denial.

Take a stand and act. We expect it of you, it is your duty. Because if you wait for too long, it will happen again, make no mistake. And it will keep getting worse.

Let your people know that they are in safe hands. Put actual justice on the table, not compromises. Impose a punishment strong enough to deter these animals out there. Work on a better tomorrow. But for God’s sake, protect your people today.

Don’t mess this up.  There is simply too much at stake. 

A Bit of Blush - For Muzu & Tabby

I have a brother in law who is a fantastic drummer.
I call him my Drummer Boy.

He reminds me so much of Dude all the time, every time - needless to say, I have a very soft spot in my heart for him. So a few years ago, when he introduced us to this girl he 'kinda liked', Dude and I were all ears, open arms - the works.

We met a princess of a girl with a heart of gold. They were adorable together, but we kept our thoughts to ourselves. They had to figure it out on their own, right?! Luckily for everyone, they did just that and made for such a cute couple!

On the 20th of December, 2012, we watched our Drummer Boy and his Angel exchange rings in a beautiful beach wedding. It was, without doubt, my favorite wedding EVER.
Planned to perfection, our bride had gone nuts with the details, opting to do a lot of it on her own. What I loved was that she chose not to bother too many people with her many ideas and creative thoughts. Given a choice, she didn't mind doing it all on her own. But the darling that she is, too many people wanted to help in any way possible, so if she was looking for alone time - ha ha. Silliness.

Dude and I had a taxing time with convincing Muzu that arriving to the ceremony on a Harley, was not the best way to go. Actually, no, that was just me, convincing both brothers that it wasn't the best way to go. Sigh.

One of their wedding colors was blush. And no, that's not pink, mind you. Goodness me, perish the thought! Tabby's insistence on the appropriate use of the word 'blush' became a standing giggle with both our families - gosh, the look you'd get if you referred to the color as pink!! Whether we were shirt hunting, material shopping or discussing things with the tailor - it always had to be blush. *grins*

Which bride would make time in the middle of all her wedding planning and craziness, a month before her big day - to help her 8 months pregnant sister in law get a gorgeous gown to wear? One which would do justice to the sister in law of the groom and satisfy the inborn vanity of a woman?
Tabby did.
She spent hours with me, going over pictures, checking sites, going to the tailor, helping me try it on - such a doll. In the bargain, I like to believe we got even closer - getting annoyed with a random tailor, using hair pins as dress pins, taking pictures of extra large dresses in the middle of lots of giggling and then sending me pictures of a DHL bag when the gowns finally arrived. I ask you, which bride does that? But our Tabby did.


Muzu asked Dude to be his best man. And he asked me to walk him down the aisle. Do i even NEED to tell you how much of an 'awww' moment that was for me? Being an only child, when they asked me to walk with our groom...I felt a little bit of what it must feel like to have a brother. I teared up that day.
And on the wedding day, when we walked down together, I will never forget what Muzu said to me just before he helped his very pregnant sister in law to her chair...."I love you so much."
Bless, bless, bless. Given a chance, I would've been bawling all over his wedding suit. Luckily, I was simultaneously worried I'd trip over the carpet on the sand and create a huge scene straight out of a slapstick comedy routine, so I had to settle for a muffled 'I love you too' and the tightest hug I could manage.
Then I saw Tabby walk down the aisle with her Dad. I remembered all the planning and preparation. I remembered choosing gowns together. And the floodgates opened. We were so happy to be witnessing these two, so in love, beginning their lives together.

Dude won't admit to this, but he stressed and stressed over his Best Man Toast.
He didn't need to, though. He tried to keep it as macho as possible, but brothers will be brothers I suppose, and the emotion crept in, along with the memories gone by, dreams for the future and typical elder brother pride.
And yes, it was peppered with basketball, Metallica and even Metallica lyrics. He was proud of Muzu. And I was proud of him. *smiles* 


We got a chance to spend time with Tabby's family. Love.
Such special people, so much love and genuine affection. In all the laughter, hugs, special moments - we became one big family. It was like we had always known each other, there was no pretense or awkwardness. Plus there was the bonding over the 'blush', all at Tabby's expense!

Dude & I watched Muzu write his reply to the toast, listened to their wedding special the day before the wedding, convinced him to get a facial, so many tiny, seemingly insignificant details. But such precious memories.
From suit and jewellery shopping, walking around Meena Bazaar for veil material, meeting tailors, planning bridal showers, hours of whats apping, rushed meals together - it was all so special. More so 'coz Button was with us as well - it brought the four of us so much closer.

It was a beautiful wedding and couldn't have been more perfect.
Dude and I were so happy to be a part of it all. And I know there will never be a time when we don't speak of it without a hard to explain warmth touching our hearts.

Perhaps it's not the ideal thing to blog about. But there was no way I could fit all this on a card. Or share the moments with you all. Perhaps it's just our way of telling the new bride and groom how very loved they are.


One of their wedding colors was blush.
Pink will never be quite the same again. *heart*

Mommy knows best. Someday, perhaps.

Learning.how.to.be.a.parent. 

That's a full sentence all by itself, up there. 

Heck, that's an encyclopedia, a never ending truth, a lifetime. 

Dude and I have been recently blessed with a little dolly of our own. My post isn't about her though. It's about a few of the amazing things I've learnt, seen and experienced in the few days since she came into our lives. 

For instance, today she had her little baby feed and then it was time for the all important little baby burp.
(for my parent readers, you know what I'm talking about. For my non parent readers who made a face just now and think I've crossed over to the other side - I haven't. Keep reading. This is important. I kid you not. Gas, as luck would have it - will happily fill your initial parenting days. ) 

Back to the burp. As I held her and continued a conversation with my own Dad, my mind drifted. I thought of Dad holding me as an infant and trying to burp me. I realized how completely dependent on you, this little bundle in your hands is. That adorable little burpy sound is one of the few bodily functions that she can actually carry out at this stage. And so you hold her and gradually take her through it, slowly, so she doesn't cry, get messy or scare herself. I thought of Dad going through all those feelings. Then I fast forwarded to my wedding day...and tried to put myself in Dad's shoes...to watch the little girl you burped; walk down the aisle.
Man. I don't know about you, but it made me a little wide eyed. That's a whole new level of sentiment that I didn't even know it was possible to feel.

Dude is a Baller. Has been one since I've known him and he's one of those typical 'boys'. Basketball, basketball, basketball. Then he plays the video games that are jam packed with cars, guns & shooting. He watches the movies with the violence and previously mentioned cars, guns & shooting. He's nuts about any and all sports and religiously sticks to all things boy.

Then Dude became a little girls Daddy. 

He's walked with me through a baby store, stood in front of racks of girly, pink, fluffy clothes, held a pink blanket up for me to see and asked, "This is nice, right?", started singing lullabies and asking about soft toys.
For those of you who know him, you'll understand what a bunch of 'No way!' moments these are. For those of you who don't, picture He-Man suddenly deciding to help the Powerpuff Girls plan a picnic.
Becoming a Daddy changes everything for a guy.
Bless. In the words of Salt 'n Peppa - He's a mighty, mighty good man.

All my life, my mother has been my best friend. And since motherhood knocked on my door, I've realized that she is still my greatest teacher. I suddenly see, all too clearly, the countless things she did for me as I grew up. I watch her hold my daughter and see this insane amount of love...and I begin to understand how much it takes to make your daughter, your friend. I can only hope to be able to do the same.... I am learning from her still.

The future looks like it's full of challenges and rainbows and dirty diapers and baby smiles. Truth be told, I am a little nervous...but when I look at these amazing people around me...my heart goes all fuzzy and I sometimes feel it may burst with all the things I'm feeling...but this, is apparently what parenthood does to you.
And what a ridiculously glorious feeling it is.

Have lots to write about (and no, it's not always going to be about parenthood) so promise to do so in a somewhat decent, timely fashion.

Here's a Stevie Wonder song I've been singing for a while, for my little humming bird.
One of those oldies that suddenly, like almost everything else; has new meaning.



Till later.

For Life.

Two Fridays ago, I was part of a mad crowd of people who were celebrating, posing for pictures, screaming, hugging, crying...we were victorious. We were and are, a part of the Hustlers family; proudly watching our team reclaim a victory that was a long time coming. 

Moments like those tend not to leave you.

Each time you think of it, the madness of the moment suddenly surrounds you again. You feel the bubbles, hear the chants, even probably remember those last few minutes that changed everything. 

It was magic. 

We may be an overly enthusiastic; sentimental group - but heck, if magic is what it was, then that's exactly what we'll call it. 

The Hustlers are back. Boo yah. 

Dude and I watched a sports movie the other day - Forever Strong. No, it isn't about basketball. 

Rugby, actually. 

But out of all the sports movies I've ever watched (and trust me, given my dad, friends and husband - I've watched them all!), this one stayed with me. Somewhere towards the end of the movie, when the main character realizes what it means to be part of this particular team...I asked myself...What do the Hustlers stand for? 

I mean...I know what we want you to stand for....what we believe you stand for. 

The families, the wives, the fans, the girlfriends. We have built this giant, green pedestal and put you all on it - our boys. And we believe that you each deserve to be on it.

But as I watched that movie...I realised I wasn't sure what the Hustlers themselves stood for. 

A good fight? The will to come back and win? Team? Defiance? Brotherhood? Family? Winning? Discipline? So many questions popped up suddenly. 

No, I'm not being negative - not one bit. You will always have us...your support systems and your back ups, your deafening crowds, even swearing crowds if need be. We've been right there with you. 

But now that you have won what you'll have been striving for for so long....maybe each of you will take a time out to think this one through. 

Thank you Hustlers...for giving us all a team we call our own. An extended family we love. For lots of memories. For winning and making us proud. You are not just another team. You have a story. And you are loved. 

But years from now...what will being a part of the Hustlers mean to you? 

The main tag line from the movie was in Maori...and translated to English, reads like this..." "Be forever strong on the field, so that you will be forever strong off the field."

This is what we want you to stand for....what we believe you stand for. 

Hustlers for life. 

My Girl Hugo

You know that feeling you get when you know you've made your first real friend?

The kind of friendship that lasts forever, the kind of person you're going to know and love, till you're old and grey? 

That's my girl, Hugo. 

It feels like I've known her since forever. We're very alike, yet extremely different at the same time. We love old comedies, memorizing songs from animated movies, good food and laughing out loud. 

I realize that this may sound like a lot of friendships. From the outside, perhaps it is just one of many. 

But to me, she's the one my heart and mind have no barriers with. She is the friend with whom I am myself. There are no invisible walls, no second thoughts, no what ifs and maybes. 

She knows the real me and she sees through and through, to the person on the inside. And no matter what I am or who I become to the rest of the world, she will always know the real me. 

Friendships like ours don't need constant reaffirmation. I love her. She loves me. It's that simple. 

We don't talk everyday. Or every week. Or even every month. Life happened. We grew up. Time doesn't permit a lot of it's previous graces. But friendships like ours don't really care. We just pick up where we left off. It's like there was nothing in the middle - conversations flow on like finely melted chocolate; smooth and sweet. 

(*grins* she'd love the chocolate reference. It's one of her weaknesses.) 

I remember times when we've fought each others battles, rejoiced in one anothers victories and taken pride in even the silliest of accomplishments. I remember her standing with me when few others did, defending me even when I wasn't around. I remember sharing love stories and wedding plans. I remember her fighting for me when I hadn't the voice to fight for myself. I remember holding her when she cried. I remember seeing her in pain. And I remember laughing. Lots and lots of laughing, all the time, at just about anything. Years and years of someone to laugh with, has a tendency to leave you with the fondest of memories. 

We've come through a lot, Hugo and I. 

But the beauty in it for me; is that on the inside, we're still who we were all those years ago. 

She's still the girl who had her hair up in 2 ponytails, tied with red ribbon and I'm still the girl with the short boy cut hair and bright pink glasses. And to her heart and my heart...friendship is still that simple. 

She's my girl, is Hugo. She always will be and when it comes to her, I'll always be, where I've always been. 

Right here. 

For you, my madcap. 

Till later. 

We call them the Hustlers.

I've always been very undecided about writing about you boys. 

I've written and erased, typed, then deleted. But somehow...now seems to be a good time. 

I don't speak for just me now...I speak for a lot of fans and supporters you boys have...some in the stands, some at home, some in other countries. Because I know that a hearty chunk of us have more or less the same feelings. 

There have been times that we have watched you with pride and cheered at your victories. We have also gone silent at your losses and jumped in at your fights. (Oh yeah.) We have applauded you whether you won or lost - we saw the spirit, talent and spunk in you that you often do not see in yourselves. 

The last few years have seen you boys grow up though. 

No, I'm not taking about marriage and becoming dads. You'll seem to have grown as people and players. Learnt what skills to hone, what bad qualities to try & lose. You'll help each other more now and criticize less. There is less ego on court and more brotherhood. You value more than you judge. You play more than you talk. And I'm aware that you all know exactly what I mean. 

You all say..."Hustlers for life". Sometimes I watch you guys...and I see how subconsciously you all live by those words. Whether it's in a team huddle, at a club or just at the movies...you seem to be part of this camp that none of us can enter, part of this tribe that has it's own secret handshake. You share something that cannot be put to words but is so, so special. 

You've seen 3 captains. Each one brought you something different. The first gave you the legacy you fight for. The second reminded you that you are a team. The third makes you see the best in each other and yourselves.

I know many of the Hustlers aren't playing on court this year. But hell, they're playing off court. They're running the drills, wiping the sweat, biting their nails, even rising in anger against bad calls - being with you in spirit is still being with you, still being a Hustler.

To the new Hustlers - I know the fierce loyalty and seriousness that the players and fans alike have for this team may take you by surprise. Stick around, you'll learn to love it. 

As far as coaching goes...there's never really been anyone else, has there? 

It's good to have the Lion back. 

Play hard. Play with soul and spirit and the talent that you already have, will keep coming to the fore. You are as strong as the guy next to you. Confidence comes from knowing that you have each others backs. 

We're going to be here, watching and cheering from the stands - whether you win or lose. We are part of your team, in every way possible. 

But if you can, win. We want it. You want it. 

And as for yesterdays game....the way I see it, you boys had some red in your ledgers. 

You wiped it out. Well played. 

Till later.

34 years later - it's still the little things.

A match made in heaven. 

I've heard those words countless times over the last few years. I've watched so many of our friends get married or engaged...and there's always this one wise old someone or the other; who looks at the couple, smiles and says, "Such a match made in heaven". 

I didn't always understand it. I still don't. Not entirely at least. 

Here's this couple...just setting out on their new life together. There's so much to learn, know, see, raise an eyebrow at, be amused with...all with this person who just placed a ring on their finger. Fights to be had, meals to be made, hands to be held. Ups, downs, roses, thorns, the whole cocktail that is married life. And yet, here, right at the beginning of everything...someone claims it's a match made in heaven. 

I think finding out that it's a heaven sent blessing...is something that we constantly learn. 

In the arms that hold you when you cry and the strength that moves you onward in times of pain and difficulty. 

In the friendship that makes breakfast with you and helps you do the laundry. Sometimes, even mixing colors with whites, but hey - clean is clean, right?!

It's in the eyes that watch you with pride when you excel...when you try...when you just are. 

You'll find it in the quiet support that you learn to depend upon...even without looking. It's there. 

It's in the hands that hold yours for a dance when a special song is played - no matter where you are. The kitchen, a dance floor, a picnic...the song and the moment are yours. 

It's a gentle surprise in the faith that is placed in you. No matter how the world sees you...love will always believe the best of you. I don't think you ever really get used to it. 

It's in the fact that years later...you still find a reason to laugh together, walk together, chat about random things...hold hands. 

Dude and I are nowhere close to all this, but we're on the long road that is forever...and the journey looks nice from where we are. We've seen some experts though. Everyday, all the time, each conversation - I learn something new about love from them that I did not know before. The world should be so lucky. 

It amazes me that a couple who've been married for 34 years, still have quiet giggles just between them. They exchange looks and speak volumes. Dad stands in the kitchen and chats with Mum while she washes the dishes. Mum rushes out of the car to open the gates to our home so that Dad can bring the car in. They watch cricket together. They pray together. They still love to have pizza dates together. Bless. 

I wrote this post listening to this on repeat...it's my mama and papa's wedding special, from 34 years ago. 

I may not be that old and wise someone, but after all I've known, seen and been a part of...this is the kinda stuff matches in heaven are made of. 

Happy 34th Wedding Anniversary, my angels. 

Here's to many more pizzas, waltzes, shared bars of chocolate - the little things.

Love.