Reflections in Ripples

My father and I share a deep love for books. His favourite pastime at railway stations (and later at airports) was buying them. My mother, though not an avid reader herself, never discouraged us from reading. However, she often felt frustrated—not because she disliked books, but because she was the one packing and moving them every time we relocated. During one such move from Bangalore to Visakhapatnam, she finally declared that she would throw away all the books since she couldn’t manage the packing anymore. Reluctantly, my father and I decided to donate them to a public library. I visited three or four libraries, but none were willing to take them due to space constraints. Heartbroken, we had no choice but to sell 90 kg of books to a paper mart by weight. That was the heaviest weight I’ve ever lost—one I never wanted to lose. As a child, I always carried a book with me—sometimes even into the bathroom. I made friends at doctor’s clinics, while waiting for public transport, and on...

  “Who is paying you to be thin?” That was the first question she asked me. I had visited the gynecologist after missing my periods for over 45 days. She happened to be my then-to-be husband’s friend’s mother. After listening to my story — how I was skipping meals, sacrificing sleep, jogging daily, and preparing for the CAT (race) exam — that was her response. I didn’t know how to reply, so I just offered a shy smile. “You will be healthy with the right balance of sleep, food, and exercise," she explained. "Sleep is underrated. Even if you walk 10 kilometers a day, lack of sleep will only worsen hormonal imbalances. And who is paying you to be thin? Strive to be fit and healthy — being thin doesn’t necessarily mean being well.” I didn’t appreciate the “lecture” at the time and thought I’d never return to her. But she prescribed medication for my immediate concern, and life went on. Years later, when my husband and I were trying to conceive, I found myself back in her ...

  After a pleasant darshan at the temple, my husband and our two young boys were relaxing under a tree. I was showing my elder son some of the temple's paintings and explaining their significance, while my husband was off with our younger one, happily people-watching.  When I returned, I was genuinely shocked by what I had just heard. Two girls, probably around 14 or 15 years of age, entered the temple with their parents. Let's just say their attire was a topic for another discussion. They seem to be in the middle of a strange challenge. After one of them finished hanging from a tree bark, she proudly flipped her sister the middle finger. When my husband told me this, I just didn't know how to respond. My first thought was, 'Where are their parents? Did they even say anything?' He shook his head – they were right there, silent. That made me feel even worse. It makes me wonder, when did we all start thinking that bad language and actions are somehow... cool? Do we ...