Kolkota Sweets

Kolkotta Sweets- A sweet shop that transports you to the sweet world of Calcutta. Well, don't go by the looks. Some of the red, brown and white things arranged neatly in heaps may not look familiar to you. But try them. 100% you will ask for more. They are the delectable sweets and savouries from rural Bengal. Soft, white dumplings soaking in sugar syrup may not look too sophisticated, but they are the authentic Rosogullas of West Bengal. The triangular puffs with potato fillings taste nothing like the samosas we usually find in Bakeries here. They have the distinct taste of Singhadas- a very common street food in the Eastern part of India. The hot jalebis and fried samosas appear in quick succession and get consumed in a jiffy. Be there on time or you miss. The shop opens early offering hot puris and a lentil curry- a typical bengali breakfast fare. Within hours of opening, the place comes alive with migrant labourers, mostly Bengalis ready to go for work. Their happy faces and satisfied smiles are infectious. Its fascinating to see them savour their food, their style. Two or three samosas broken into pieces, the sweet chatni poured over them generously and parttaken with bliss. Hot puris dunked into the slightly sweet daal curry polished off with a bowl of Misti doi (sweetened curd). One is tempted to try all that and more. All we can say is go for it. You will not regret. While munching on the delicacies one can have a glimpse of things being made inside. Freshly made paneer hanging in one corner, fresh dough being rolled out for the samosa, sugar syrup boiling in iron coldrons and a few bengali calling out to each other in native dialect. A mini Bengal amidst the hustle and bustle of Trivandrum city. The whole thing has a rustic touch. Must tries- Rosogollas, Rajbhog and Chum chum- Variants of the basic rosogullas, they taste heavenly. Samosas- perfectly fried with a spiced potato filling, very different from the local variety. Lavang latika- an orange colour sweetmeat, deep fried and soaked in sugar syrup with a sweet filling. Gaja- An oblong and layered pasty, crisp fried and sweetened with sugar syrup. Misti Doi- Sweet curd, the quietessential Bengali desert. Daal- Puri- A combination of puri and mildly spiced lentil gravy. Available only for breakfast. A meal for two- Even if you try everything available in the shop, a meal for two won't exceed Rs. 100/- A word of Caution- This is a place mainly thronged by daily wagers. Do not expect anything fancy. If you don't enjoy sitting on wooden benches and eating with hands, take away is the best option for you. But we strongly recommend sitting and eating there to get a feel of rural Bengal in Trivandrum. Location- Ulloor Junction. Watch out for the board.

Gowri Designer Boutique

Gowri Desinger Boutique What makes a dress look good? Or to rephrase it, what ladies look for in a dress? Comfortable material, sleek cuts, perfect neckline and a classy touch. Well price too. And to find all these and more is a dream come true. Ladies, welcome to Gowri Desinger Boutique, that offers all these and more. To be specific “More” means an unobrusive, peaceful ambience whrere you can take your time to go through the collection, try as many as you want and then decide what to buy. A far cry from the crowded malls and commercial complexes that are bombarding the skyline of Trivandrum lately. Gowri has many loyal customers and among them are many celebrities. They all vouchfor the neat silhouttes, the delicate hand embroideries, the perfect colour combination and quality stitching for the dresses. The boutique has mainly women’s kurtis- mostly casuals but also a limited collection of festival and party wear. True to the concept of a boutique, this place do not have an overbearing of designs and wearables. They stick to their concept of comfortable clothing and make limited pieces in regular intervals. The good part is each time you go, you find new collections on the shelves. Vibrant and trendy Gowri , the brain child of two house wives Mrs, Tara Nair and Mrs.Veena Nair is truly the trend setter in fashion scene in Kerala. Hailing from Kottayam, a place known for its sense of style and class, the duo started their first store there. Later they were joined by Tara’s daughter in law Nilima Pillai, an engineering graduate. Gowry products are a rare amalgamation of contemporary designs and elegance of trational fashion. Their clothing line became popular within no times among the locals as well as NRIs visiting their hometown. Vibrant and trendy, they cater to the working ladies who look for comfort and flair as well as the college goers who want to add variety and latest norms to their wardrobe within budget. What to look for Gowry has a good collection of Kurtis, salwar sets, tops and hand picked sarees. Made out of Jaipur cotton, silk and natural fabrics, the cloting line is very subtle and stylish. The sizes range from XS to XL. You may not find the same design in all sizes but you can place order if you fancy something which is not available. They undertake minimal alterations on demand. What’s trending Anarkalis, gowns and shirt dresses are the toast of fashion industry these days. Gowry has a enviable collection of all these which are sure to enhance your feminine charm. It is difficult to choose among the dresses yet when you do, you can be sure it is the best in your wardrobe. Where to go Gowri is conveniently located on Cotton Hills road, Trivandrum. There is enough parking space inside the compound. Its open from 11am to 7 pm, Monday through Saturday. For further details call on

The not so Great Indian Kitchen

I am a person who relies on reviews before viewing a movie. The storyline of the movie The Great Indian Kitchen and the rave reviews it got from film critics got me intrigued. Has our society really become this sensitive while I was busy resolving the mundane in my life? I had to watch the movie. From the reviews, got to know the new OTT platform Nee Streams where the movie was streaming. Within 15 minutes, daughter aged 17 left the room saying she couldn’t sit through the disgusting, repeatitive frames of this kitchen tale. From the corners of my eyes I saw husband too making a casual escape muttering something about the slow pace of the movie and predicting the content. He isn’t one who reads movie reviews. I sat through the movie alone with a myriad thoughts playing hide and seek at the back of my head; anger, empathy, complacence, humour and most of all disgust at the drudgeries of the housewife (btw, career women are also housewives) of the great Indian kitchen. During the 1 hour 40 minutes it crossed my mind several times Is the hype about the movie real? It is still difficult for me to digest a movie of this genre, star cast and rhythm really got the attention it deserves. Who might have seen the movie? Rather how many? What percentage of the OTT watching crowd would have subscribed to Nee stream over Netflix and Prime? I strongly felt the reviews were all paid publicity albeit for a good cause. It is hard not to identify with the protagonist, if you are a woman. Even the most privileged women, who never ever have to enter a kitchen or those who cook in an Italian marble laid modular kitchen will see glimpses of themselves at various points of the movie. The movie is not about the physical Indian kitchen. Its the mindset, the deep rooted patriarchy, the hypocrisy behind the eulogy stay at home wives are subjected to, as the lifeline of a family or household. Deep down it all tickles down to passivity, insensitivity and a lust for convenience. The slow pace of the movie is deliberate as is the detailed portrayal of the mundane chores in the kitchen like cutting vegetables, making dosa and grinding chutney in a stone grinder. It kind of builds up a restlessness, unfruitful indulgence and disgust which will make many get up and walk out of the movie after a few scenes. That’s the whole point. If you can’t watch it for 15 minutes, how do women go through it day after day, week after week and year after year without break? The story takes on a natural flow of events starting from a matrimonial meeting to how a girl who probably grew up in a very different backdrop adapts to her new family and household without complain or rather willingly. The women in the film cater to the minutest need of the men in the family while the men only focus on their comfort and enjoyment. When the protagonist wants to apply for a job, the father-in-law sweetly tells her how managing a house is more glorious than managing a company and hence no need to apply for a job. When she suggests a bit of a foreplay so that she could also enjoy conjugal pleasures, her husband makes her feel promiscuous for even knowing about it. Even a casual comment on his table manners in a restaurant as opposed to the lack of it at home, hurts his fragile ego and send him into a sulking mode until his wife apologizes for her misdemeanor. She not only has to scrub off chewed up drumsticks from the table, she also has to assuage his ego. Doesn’t it all sound too familiar? Subtlety is the beauty of this movie. The men don’t raise their voice, yet we know who calls the shot. Women, who are often at the receiving end are both a product and perpetrator of patriarchy by being part of it until they decide to climb down the pedestal and decide to live life as they wish. Nimisha as the female protagonist is brilliant in her acting as usual. Suraj Venjaramoodu once again proves he is much more than the comic relief he was once known for. The direction, screenplay and background music is all spot on. I only wish they had kept the Sabarimala issue for another day.

Of love and loss

Of Love and Loss

“Asha Apa Anda dia, Asha apa anda dia”- Asha Apa lay eggs. Our hostel dining room would reververate with laughter the days we were served egg. In Oriya, the expression for laying eggs and giving eggs is the same and the boys took advantage of this to tease the kitchen help who russled in and out of the kitchen with fresh ommelette for the hungry ruffians. “Am I a hen to lay eggs?” She would retort both amused and irritated, slipping hot ommlettes onto our plates with a sly smile. Actually, it amused everyone and none of the teachers eating with us ever admonished the boys for their misdemeanour.

That was Asha Apa of our hostel. She had two sons, Chunu and Munu who were in the custody of her husband who had abondoned her for somebody else. Though she had been strictly instructed not to disturb me as I was preparing for my tenth boards, I had heard inumerable stories about her Chunu-Munu and Chunu-Munnu's father from her. She would look for a chance to come to our room- sometimes to stand under the fan to cool off or sometimes to fix her snapped bra strap. I hated those days when she would request me to fasten her bra strap that had come ondone. I could never figure out why it happened so often. She would stand with her back to me, the pallu of her saree wrapped around her neck and ask me to please fasten the hook for her. The faded blue blouse soaked in perspire clung to her body. Her body emanated a mixed smell of ginger, garlic, cinnamon, cardamon and other oriya spices. The smell, the small drops of sweat at the hollow of her backbone and the tattered bra strap nauseated me. I would hold the ends of her inner wear using the mininum surface area of my finger tips and pull them towards each other and put the metal hook inside a metal loop.

She had no specific place in the hostel. She worked in the kitchen, slept on the dormitory floor where the younger boys slept. Her things were kept in a metal trunk in one corner of the dining area. I still can't make out if she was just simple or a simpleton. In the school hostel, she was the butt of all jokes. Sometimes she laughed at herself with others, sometimes got angry. But most of the times enjoyed the attention while pretending to be angry. Nobody took her seriously.

That year, I was the only girl among the 30 boarders. I shared a room with two other teachers as I could not share a room with boys. I spent most of my time alone in the room practicing my lessons. Suddenly, she would enter giggling, breathless and flushed. All coy and shy she would tell me how a certain staff has been making passes at her and how she gets teased for her good looks. While solving a particularly difficult algebric equation, part of my brain would be engaged in wondering who could be the person who found Asha apa desirable! The school I studied in was spiritually inclined and even the tenth standers were not encouraged to either engage in adult pursuits nor behave like one. No relationship existed outside the gamut of Brother-sister relationship. However, that did not prevent me from understanding the adventurous flights her heart took despite the pressure to confirm to norms.

She adored me but loved the boys, while I was her confidant, she showered her attention on them. The days she was in charge of the kitchen, she would bring samples of food for me to taste and testify. But I never got the longing she had for the boys. At that age I connected it to her longing for her estranged sons and never felt bad about it. Actually I am guilty of hiding my feelings for her. She was neither a companion nor a person who mattered to me. I was only polite enough not to tell this on her face. But I felt bad for her at times.

“I will tell you something, promise me you will keep it a secret?”, she would tell me all of a sudden.

“Go ahead, I promise”.

“I love someone.”

I wasn't shocked. I always knew it coming and dreaded it. But the next revelation blew my mind away. It wasn't one of those sweepers, peons, cooks or bus cleaners who made rabid comments at her, who she had fallen for. The person was a high flying, foreign educated, six feet tall, suave, charming professor who happened to be the son of one of the school trustees. The whole family was settled abroad and because of his father's contribution to the school, they had a room in the school premises which they used when they visited their hometown. I exactly don't know why but this person in point visited more often than others. He was good behaviour personified, treated the lower grade employees with utmost regard and pretended to be a marxist-communist with a vision for a classless, casteless egalitarian society.

It seems Mr. Charming had the habit of asking her to help him clean his room, or make a cup of tea or a special snacks if he did not like what was cooked in the hostel mess, or give his cloths for washing- requests made with utter sweetness and comaderie and Asha apa would oblige. It was against the school ethics to ask for money against a favour made and Asha apa was already smitten by his charm. “See what he gave me..” A much delighted Asha apa took out a beautiful case and opened it in front of me. An old marble printed neck tie neatly folded sat encased in the box. My instant reaction “was what use does it have for you?” But Asha apa treasured this seemingly thoughtless gesture as expression of love and was euphoric to have received a gift from her beau. But Mr. Charming fell from my eyes forever for this useless gift and till today I think of him as a miser and an opportunist.

Though this was the first time she had openly admitted her feelings for somebody, her admiration for other male members in the vicinity came in different forms. A line of pseudo appreciation from the director or a few encouragement from the english teacher on her attemp at writting poetry would convince her they were madly in lover with her. But she wouldn't admit the love angle. The men were always tagged “brother” which was a safer zone, which made her feel desirable yet permitted her to be in the brother-sister domain. School ethos!!!

On raksha bandhan day as I was trying to concentrate on my studies after an activity filled morning and special lunch, she sneaked into our room with a request. Could I please gift wrap the books? Polite and sweet natured as I was, I wrapped some four books in coloured papers. One was on meditation, one was on spiritual seekings, one on ideal parenting and the last one was a book on the power of prayers. When I finished, she dictated me to write in beautiful handwriting “With love and affection from a devoted brother to his sweet sister” in one and “ A special gift to a special sister on the auspicious occasion of Raksha Bandhan” in another. I was sure noone bothered to give her a gift in return of the rakhi she tied but this was her way of redeeming their affection. She lived in a make belief world where she was the object of desire for one and all.

It was in Asha apa's nature to misunderstand affection for attraction, sympathy for sincerity and lust for love which I came to understand as I grew older.

After Christmas holidays we came back to school and hostel all geared up for the forthcoming boards which was four months away. Asha Apa had come back with a new antic. Every morning she made a ruckus in the dormitory much before breakfast time. She would howl holding her stomach. “My stomach is burning. My stomach is empty. I am so hungry.” So much so that the boys freshly back from home would unpack their goodies and offer her. She would eat hungrily whatever came her way. This drama went on for days. Then renching started. When the teachers joked what happened during the vacation and who did it? she would run away laughing. I sat with a straingt face pretending not to understand the implication as I was not suppose to understand the elderly pursuits.

I was engrossed in biology that day trying to remember the names of the part of a plant, I heard the commotion. I was alone in the hostel as the younger boys had gone to class and the boys of my class had gone to clear doubts from a teacher. A sobbing Asha Apa packed her things and left without so much as saying goodbye to me. One of the teachers after swearing me into secrecy revealed that Asha apa was pregnant and her brother-in-law was responsible.

Days passed by. Life went on as usual. Strangely enough, I didn't hear anyone enquirying after her. As her presence had not mattered to anyone, her absence did not bother anyone. She was neither a fond memory nor a nuisance for the boys whom she had loved like a mother or the myriad men she had fancied.

Years later, I accidentally met her on my way to college. She was her usual reververscent self. She was working in Col. Mohanty's house. She animatedly described how Col Mohanty's three boys (grown up boys, one studies with me) adored her. She did not mention Chunnumunnu in her conversation. I didn't have the heart to ask her about the third child.

Navaratri Chronicle

When I heard PM Modi keeps complete fasting during Navaratri, I was kind of inspired. Yet, living on hot water for nine days seems daunting. Then again the Bengali Association food festival during Navaratri also came into mind. Who will miss the delectable sweets and chicken curries that we get only once a year in Trivandrum? The temptations were too many and my resolution was week.

But this year, things are different. I m calmer and freer than ever. And I really need to lose weight. Fasting during Navaratri seemed to be a good idea. But only hot water? No!! I got reminded of the headache on the second day of GM Diet. I can't risk that ever again. Milk works good for me.  So I decided to go for a fruits and milk diet even if I don't lose weight.

Day one

I got up at the usual time though I had resolved to get up early.  While making tea for my husband I was tempted to have a cup myself and gave in. Well, its for the smooth bowel movement. I drank half a cup.  Later I had a couple of bananas and milk and then a pomegranate. I was tempted to eat some cashew nuts but thankfully couldn't find any.  During lunch time I had anther two bananas and a quarter papaya. Oh! the potato curry and the dal never looked so tempting. But I reminded myself of another person's experience how the first and the second days are the most difficult. I decided not to succumb to temptation. I tried to keep myself full by eating bananas to keep hunger at bay. To tell you the truth its actually not about feeling hungry. It is the game our mind plays. craving for food is more habitual than need based. We are just used to eating particular things at particular time. The body automatically longs for them whether or not we need them. With this enlightment dawned on me, I refrained myself from food all day. when I made the evening tea, was again tempted to have a cup. However, after the third sip, didn't feel like having it and gave up. Bought   1/2 liter  cow's milk for dinner. wanted to drink it without sugar. so added some jaggery to it. No, I didn't drink 1/2 litre milk all by myself. shared it with my husband and daughter.

Day two

I must have eaten 7-8 bananas yesterday. The bananas I bought for today are not ripe. Had half a cup tea in the morning. Not feeling hungry.

Around noon felt hungry and had a glass of milk, a banana with jaggery and a table spoon of soaked chia seeds. I actually don't feel hungry, but there is a tendency to put something into the mouth. I drink water and eat quarter of a papaya. In the evening I drink a cup tea. Made veg biriyani for daughter on demand and came across a packet of cashew nuts and raisins. Ate some. That kind of put off my food cravings for hours. Had a big glass of milk for dinner.

Day three

Woke up a little tired. Husband and daughter wanted breakfast immediately. Got involved in kitchen work and my fatigue was gone. Had a banana and a cup of tea (wish I could do away with it!) Neither was hungry nor tired. But was worried about having a headache. Popped up a piece of gooseberry. Had read somewhere it helps in controlling acidity and hence we don't get headache during fasting. I think it works. Drank coconut water at noon and that was refreshing. As I have said earlier, its not about food and hunger. Its more like a habit. We have to eat because we eat. had a small glass of lemon juice which was entirely uncalled for. Had milk and banana for dinner.

Day four

I am happy that I am inching towards the end even though I am not even half way through. Today I woke up tired but I won't count that. I wake up lazy everyday. Had tea and made a special breakfast as it is a Sunday. No stock of banana today. So had coconut water with coconut cream, an apple and a piece of papaya. Didn't have milk in the morning. Had to go out and when I came back felt really tired. Slept for an hour. Had to go out again and by evening was feeling dizzy. Had a big glass of milk with sugar. Feeling better now. will have another piece of papaya and a banana (if I manage to buy some) and a glass of milk again. Have a slight headache.

By the way, I have decided to keep fasting for seven days only. So I will end it on the Saptami.

Day five

I got up very fresh. Wasn't feeling any urge for drinking tea. Cooked breakfast and had a cup of light coffee as it was going waste (housewife!!!) Later had a piece of papaya and a small glass of milk. I do not have much work today. Hence feeling bored. That boredom is making me restless. Helped our domestic help to clean the kitchen. After that again feeling restless. I am counting days for this fast to get over. I think if we keep ourselves occupied we won't be bothered by hunger. I don't feel hungry any way. Felt a bit dizzy and slept for an hour. Had a piece of water melon but wasn't actually inclined towards eating. Had good cow's milk and also a cup of tea in the evening. Didn't feel like eating any fruits for dinner even though my stomach was empty. When I went to bed, couldn't get any sleep. My mind was full of images of non vegetarian food. Succulent chicken in thick creamy sauce, fish in mustard sauce, egg biriyani, prawns and  a series of delicacies. I just wanted his fasting to be over and binge on food. I tossed and turned in bed. No idea when I fell asleep.

Day Six

Got up earlier than usual and got up fresh. Unlike usual days I didn't want to linger on the bed. Felt hungry and made a cup of tea for me. Yesterday evening when I had my tea I was really scared. Sometimes, tea gives me severe headache even though i am tempted to have a cup. I didn't want to go through that. Thankfully, i didn't have any headache. Today I am feeling normal. I am slightly hungry but don't want to eat. Had a small cup of milk and two small bananas. I have tried fasting earlier also and know my body. Hence I try to prevent acidity and headaches before their unset. My water intake has reduced. Planning to drink more water today.

Had milk and banana for dinner but by the time went to bed, my stomach was completely empty. Tossed and turned in the bed. Thankfully there were no images of food in mind. felt thankful that it's going to be over in a day.

Day seven

Yoo Hoo! Last day. Well, its only Saptami but I have decided to end it on the seventh day. Have to chill out with family for the next three days.

Woke up energetic and made elaborate food preparation for daughter and husband. Felt hungry half way through and had a cup of tea. However, had difficulty in bowel movement. All these days I was happy and relieved that I neither had headache nor constipation. But today was an ordeal. Can't figure out the reason. I didn't have papaya yesterday. Could be that or the quality of milk I had. One can never trust the store bought milk. Was very very tired after the struggle in the loo. wanted to eat something to regain energy. But what the heck! Can't I pull through the last day? So had hot milk and banana for breakfast. Life seems normal.

Pulled through the day without much difficulty. There was a kind of excitement for ending the fasting. Though I didn't complete nine days, I know I can do it and I will do it next time.

The good for nothings, go for teaching (Part 1)

I seem to find a problem with everything! Having said that aloud I look around and feel relieved that my husband  is not at earshot. I know what would have been his quick repartee. " Because you don't do anything". Not that my condition is so dire that I take anything that comes from him seriously, still it stings to hear the truth. whether married couples understand each other better with passing years is debatable, but they surely become deft at hitting each other where it hurts. Talk of conjugal bliss!!

Coming back to the main "mudda" I find fault with everything. Well in most things.....Ok, in many things. I must have rejected a dozen play schools before coming across the one that claimed "for the discerning parents". I almost cried on my serendipity and things were fine for a year. on the second year I found the school timing too much for a four year old. six hours a day in school? I marched to the principal's room to mouth my concern and to revolutionize the system hitherto practiced. All I got is a look that said " Are you an alien? We are hearing this for the first time in twenty years." Apparently, all other parents were happy with the arrangement.

When daughter came back waving a tricolour, all excited over the independence day celebration I calmed her down saying "No darling, not today, its tomorrow, 15th of August. let's get your things ready for the flag hoisting tomorrow". When the bus did not turn up the next day and I called the school, I got no response, I had the good sense of checking her diary. It was clearly mentioned how elaborately they had celebrated independence day at school on the previous day and 15th August was indeed a holiday.  Disappointed with the school run by a famous psychologist, I made my way to her office the next day. "How could you? You made our children celebrate the independence day of a neighbouring country and did nothing for our own?"

The psychologist turned principal has a way of appeasing parents with her noddings and she sent me back with the promise to see into the matter next year. Next year they celebrated independence day two days ahead as 15th was a Sunday. By that time I had understood my complaints had gone to deaf ears and as a show of protest I did not send my daughter to school. When I called up a parent to get updates on notes she casually asked why was my daughter absent that day and I told her the reason, her expression was like "Oh, I never looked at it this way?" IT professional- educated, highly paid, the creme de la creme  of society!

There are have been several incidents like this and every time I march off to do my duty as a responsible citizen and mother, my husband tries to caution me. " You still haven't learnt? Some people learn the hard way and you are one of them. nothing's going to change, I can give you in writing." I still proceed with my mission  only to realize how right he is.

My current concern is "notes" given by teachers of different subjects. I was aghast to see photocopied pages from a Hindi guide which the teacher has circulated in the name of notes. My first question was "then why do we send you to school? We might as well keep you home and buy guide books from market. We will be saving Rs. 5000 every month that way". It seems most of the teachers need a guide to guide them in writing answers. To make it simpler they just take photo copies from guide books and circulate them among the students for a fee. I was about to protest and take the matter to the principal when I noticed my husband looking askance. I got the hint.

On a serious note, what have we come to be? As my husband says its not fair to expect anything great from teachers. After all who becomes a teacher in schools these days? Teaching is the last resort for many. The most brilliant ones go for engineering and medicine and civil services, the next lot look for clerical jobs in govt. the still lesser ones go for private jobs and the least lot, those who can not get anywhere look for teaching options in schools.  In our country, the good for nothings, go for teaching.

In Solidarity with the Kasibais of the world

In Solidarity with the Kashi bais of the world

Priyanka Chopra got best supporting actress while Deepika Padukone got best actress award for the same movie , Baajirao Mastani. Fair? Not fair! But Kashibais of the world always have this fate. They are     pushed to the background while Mastanis take centre stage.  Mastani’s  name  gets synonymous with Bajirao. Culture, history, folklore sing the glory of their love and like clauses in an insurance form,  they mention ‘ Kashibai also existed’. Committed, devoted, givingS, Kasibais  don’t lack anything. Still mastanis enter their lives. Well, I don’t blame Mastanis. No, falling in love is not a crime. Its Bajiraos who expect Kashibais to accommodate Mastanis in their lives that I have an issue with. Kashibais  love ,care, comfort, support,control and confront, yet lose the battle because Bajiroas want all this and a little more. What is a bigger loss for them? Losing the love of their lives or their self respect? In the movie Kashibai very appropriately says “Jaan mangte to khushi se de deti. Par apne to hamara gurur hi chin liya.” That’s it . Kasibais value their dignity, they expect transparency, truth and camaraderie. When they give space, they do it with confidence and total trust. And what do Bajiraos do? They not only give in to temptation but also don’t feel sorry for what they have done. They rip  off the dignity Kasibais deserve and plead themselves ‘not guilty’.

It’s so strange that it takes a woman’s tears to make a man feel guilty. They want to see the woman they once loved broken and defeated to awaken the man in them. I am lucky to be surrounded by many strong women. I don’t wish anyone of them to go through the horrid Kashibai experience. But I know, if ever faced with a similar situation, they will hold their own,  just like Kashibai. I want my daughter to be a kashibai too even if she never gets the best actress award.

I’ m in total solidarity with the Kashibais of the world.