SG OwnBlog

Republic of India has been independent for over 70 years now. Ever since 1947, and particularly since 1950 many Governments have come and gone. The Constitution of India has been amended. By over 370 times and counting. The name of the nation has also changed. From the simple 'Republic of India' it was changed to the 'Secular Sovereign Socialist Democratic Republic of India' for reasons best known to the then ruling elites. Few policies have remained unchanged or unchallenged regardless of the different Governments, political parties, emergencies and so on. That is the systematic institutional and legal discrimination of Hindus. Sounds surprising? And yes, BJP fanboys - you are just as guilty if not more. Let me explain why. There are plenty of laws, rules and regulations that this marvellous Republic of ours has given us. Learning about the laws that govern our lives require us to take a Law degree. Literally. The Constitution that we are bound to live by is s

A group of young guys had gathered around a lifeless body on the road. A minivan had just hit a girl and sped off. The girl bounced on the road and rolled around once and came to a stop. The rest of the girls on the street scattered. A couple of guys came to check on the girl. A crowd gathered and collected what little valuables she had left with her. A girl saw it all from her second floor window on Sheil road, Liverpool. Natalie was aware of the hazards of what she used to do. She knew the roads were dangerous, especially at night. But then, day or night - she was never truly safe. Her escape was only in heroin. She did not dare to build a world of her own by her own means. She tried before. It never worked out. So she had transferred the responsibility to what society calls ‘substance’. Heroin gave her a cushion, her sleep and let her keep her sanity. Or so she used to think. Natalie was alone. Her addiction was not. It came with dependence, depression, homelessness and reject

Amar choto bou chole bake bake... If you are looking for some meaning in the words written above - please stop. It is of no use. This is a short dedicated to my wife whom I did not get to marry. Being typically Bengali, she is puchu to me. If you are reading this, please keep in my mind that I am not one bit drunk. And I don't particularly feel like writing either. This you see here is not prose. Just an open faucet. Or a gaping wound sp... okay. Scratch that. Open faucet it is. She has got a small round face. Her eyes are symmetrical. A bit like almonds. They look lively and restless when open and calm or serene when closed. The nose is neither pointed not large. It sits right in the middle of the face with even elevations on both sides. It is not too small to notice nor is it too large to get in the way. Her lips are small, but not thin. There is an amount of volume to them that you would not usually expect. Her face looks normal something from a distance. It looks s

I have a beautiful small house in the hills. It is about 3 km from Manali, in Himachal Pradesh. It is not much. Probably calling it a cottage is stretching it too far. I have got a couple of bedrooms, a small drawing room cum kitchen where we dine as well. There is storage and a small garage that is mostly empty. I have got another small room with just a single bed and a study built on the first floor. It is just about ten feet by ten feet but it has got a retractable ceiling and a wall made of glass with the rest of the roof being something of a balcony. This is the place where I like to spend most of my time. x In the front, there is a garden with some flowers in the front and trees lining the boundary wall. My mother has planted a few vegetables in the back that we regularly use in the kitchen. We mostly require only rice and eggs from the market. A typical day starts with me waking up and going for a morning stroll. I often spend my nights in the room on the ro

Karnavati is one of the oldest cities of Indian state of Gujarat. You may recognise it as the city of Ahmedabad. Over the past few weeks I have been traveling to Karnavati on weekends. My brother had a minor mishap. He tore a few ligaments in his leg while playing football. The doctor suggested that he may need to have a surgery to fix it. The very next day my mother landed in the city to take care of him. Ahmedabad is less than 500 km from Mumbai. I could not miss it. So I did not. For the past month, I have travelled back and forth on every single weekend. I usually prefer the train. One, because it is cheaper than a flight (though not much) and second, because I can sleep comfortably. There are a lot of trains that ply between Mumbai and Karnavati. Duronto are the best. Where there is me, my bahan can not be too far away! Weather in Gujarat is oppressive. You have got good food, good roads, electricity and so on. But the weather makes anyone look forward to greener pa

I should be sorry for the highly controversial and click bait title. But I am not. There are some things in life that you can not just let go. This taunt is one of them. Recently, Thomson Reuters published a report stating that they have found out the world's most dangerous countries for women . This was the eight iteration of their annual undertaking where they assess several metrics to reach a conclusion as to where countries stand. This year they have concluded that India is the most dangerous country for women. In the world. Even after Afghanistan, Somalia and Syria. Yes, you read that right. Even a war torn country with a barely functioning Government is safer for women that India. I know for a fact that India has its share of problems. But Somalia and Syria being better than India in terms of women safety was a bit hard for me accept point blank. Liberals in India picked it right up. This is as clickbaity as my own title here. The only difference is that they won't

I met Ali in the Leh airport,he drove us in our hotel. The very next morning we went for sightseeing. He used to drive very fast. I repeatedly told him to drive slow, he followed for  a short time; again continued in his own speed. On the way to Nubra valley the road was very stiff and the altitude was very high. As I was sick before our tour it was difficult for me to bear that fast ride.After coming back I complained our tour  operator for his driving and asked for another driver. Pangong Tso Iti Sidhartha Where I am, dogs are as well Our tour operator assured me that he would tell him to drive  comfortably.The next day Ali came drove the car and I enjoyed my entire remaining  trip. Sometimes he used to push the accelerator and I just told "Ali.....ahista"...he became consous. We used to chat during this long drive. I asked him "How old are you Ali?he replied "22years mam."He told me "At the age of 16 I started driving w