We hereby conclude the three year long journey of 4IndianWoman.com.  We highly value the time our writers took to send us the articles during this period, especially during the last five months when we turned non-paying.  

Although our wish was take this platform to another level, but in reality, all dreams are not always fulfilled.  We noticed a gradual decrease in the receipt of articles this year which finally prompted us to take this decision.   

Thank you all for your support and wish you the very best!

        

By now, our weary feet and weary minds felt rested. The birth of Ghatotkacha renewed our hopes. The venerable Vyasa's benedictions, prophecies and guidance filled me with a sense of awe and purpose traversing Fate's roadways, where the final destination was known, but the path leading to it was always a revelation of God's invisible hands.<< MORE >>

The bungalow was unnamed and had been lying witness to almost nothingness in an empty, almost cut out lane of Dhakuria. It was nearly a hundred years old; and had been built during the British Raj in India. It had a roof made by red bricks and gave a dreary; listless look. The off-white paint of the bungalow showed evidence of the wear and tear due to the elements of nature. There was a small lake which didn’t have the right to be called so.<< MORE >>

Each of us loves the child within each of us, we love being children, and no matter how much we may advance in years chronologically we will always be children/kids to our parents. Hey, we might rule the board rooms, manage offices, have loads of people reporting to us—yet back home --- to parents we are still children, no matter what--- each of us just loves to pamper the child within each of us, isn’t it? << MORE >>

Today, many organizations are granting paternity leave to would-be husbands in order to help them assist their wives. Some are given a week or 14 days. But, unfortunately, unlike in some foreign countries, there is no one uniform law that can force an administration to grant paternity leave to a father. There are cases where a would-be father (if he is really concerned) has to make use of saved leave for this period. << MORE >>

Devi tells the story of a human being burdened with the weight of being a goddess, and thereby being deprived of the right to lead a normal life. The story is set in rural Bengal, in the household of a rich landlord, Kalikankar Roy (Chhabi Biswas), who is so obsessed with the goddess Ma Kali (as she is called in Bengal) that he begins to believe that the goddess has been incarnated on earth as his daughter-in-law Doyamoyee (Sharmila Tagore). << MORE >>

Musicians of yore loved to quote a famous incident. Ustad Shah Amir (also referred to as Shahmir), a sarangi and been player worked as an accompanist to musicians of the Bhendi Bazaar Gharana. Once, during a visit to a relative’s house, he happened to open a book of notations based on the extremely tough ‘Merukhand’ gayaki. A member of the family, on noticing, snatched the book from his hand shouting that this was not meant for mere accompanists. << MORE >>

It is true that Indian women have had a phenomenal success by obtaining 33 % reservation in the Parliament (though the bill has been passed only in the Rajya sabha as of now). But, there are times when I prefer to have the gender bias, that is, when it suits me. Though it might sound retrograde, I sometimes like to be treated as the woman that I am. << MORE >>

Like the petal in the falling rain, An old leaf trembling in a tree, The light, one dusk, in a lonely lane, As ethereal as a flake of snow could be....<< MORE >>

Smouldering anger gushes forth - Thrashing the nails of my coffin! Revenge reverberates through The reticent sinews of the diseased flesh... << MORE >>

But who cares about such laws and these children? Our roadside shacks and fast food outlets thrive while little hands scrub vigorously at dirty dishes the whole day and wipe away the scraps of food and stains from the tables. When we sip on a cup of tea served by these same tiny hands do we spare a though for the little mite. How often do we reprimand the owner, complain to the police authority and seek a solution. << MORE >>

I was bringing my daughter home after a summertime workshop at Mumbai’s Prithvi theatre, where I believe they had been taught something about life in Gandhi’s Ashram. She had enjoyed the workshop but was at the moment busy sulking because I had refused to take her for lunch to her favourite seafood restaurant.<< MORE >>

I can never forget the day when I was feeling particularly low; and I made way to Mahim Church with a friend. I have always found churches peaceful; for the quintessential feel that they exude. After getting out of the place, I spotted a lady and her son; who hugged each other after the Novena and cried together. I cannot explain how it felt to see them. Their togetherness made me feel warm about life; which has the truthfulness of unconditional and pure love. << MORE >>

It was the third day after our escape from the burning wax palace. My aching legs begged to be rested. As I slipped into a deep slumber under a sprawling banyan tree, I noticed the boys sinking into comfortable positions on the ground, oblivious of the crawling ants and stinging bees. Hissing snakes too, perhaps? But my head was too foggy to consider their threat. << MORE >>

The once lush green lawns were looking dry and uncared for, Ammaji, sitting on the swing was wondering at the deserted appearance of her house. With the coming of the new SP, the guards had been withdrawn, also most of her staff, only a couple of constables were there, wishing to flee as well. It was a tough task looking after all these cows and buffaloes, hard as it were, she had no option but to sell them off, it was almost like selling your own children. << MORE >>

Srila had been diagnosed as autistic. Her parents did not understand her condition. In spite of being a psychologist, neither did I. Except for an occasional clasping and unclasping of hands she did not exhibit the repetitive gestures of autism. She was not actively bonded with her family That was not surprising. Her mother was busy with her kitty parties. Her father, a businessman, was generally away and did not involve himself in domestic affairs. I could not ascribe her behaviour to autism. << MORE >>

No one knew who had torched the caravan that belonged to Gina’s family. Her father had many enemies within the troupe. His rude behaviour and caustic tongue became intolerable when he had a drink or two. So some believed a member of the troupe might have set his caravan on fire. But most were convinced that it was the work of the local mafia who hated the gypsies. Gina’s entire family had perished in the flames. She too had suffered burns on her body and extremities.<< MORE >>

He sounded pathetic the way he was putting up his act of gaining sympathy from all who cared to listen him go on about it. Moi wondered why the poor guy was all tied up into knots, making moi wonder—did men see marriage as some kind of eternal hell/torture. Logically speaking—moi didn’t see any gun placed on the groom’s shoulder! Nobody was forcing the marriage; it was a free choice that the couple made, be it as in arranged marriages or in love marriages—the decision entirely is theirs, the couple ultimately take the final call. << MORE >>

Migration is caused due to a host of reasons, socio-economic issues if you may call them. There are many reasons why people dislocate, from a place where they have been born and bred to an unknown place where they are more or less aliens as far as culture, tradition and lifestyle are concerned. It could be due to lack of development and facilities in their native states, ill-treatment due to caste system or nature playing havoc with famine and flood.<< MORE >>

The Japanese Wife is a film that made me sad to watch because it could have been so much more. Here’s a director who films with so much eye for detail, so much empathy for her characters, and yet the film’s story never quite works. Its fairy tale like quality and the naiveté of the two central characters are sometimes difficult to believe. Had the film been set some decades ago, it might have been easier to accept, but a beedi jalaye le (from Omkara) number on TV clearly dates it in the present and therefore the difficulty in accepting. << MORE >>

What can you say about a school where the same tacky sets double up as the school and hostel, where there are supposed to be thousands of students but you barely manage to see a few hundred, where the nutritionist also cooks and triples as the matron, where you never see a group of kids that belong to the same age group or class, where there seem to be just too few teachers around, where the Principal speaks wrong English, and all parents are junior artistes? << MORE >>

He is quick, thinking in large images I’m not quick; I keep thinking all the time The arch of his brow keeps unwanted people at bay; And I look at things; a multitude of emotions sweep me away He seems to look vulnerable when he sleeps I hardly get sleep; as I sit awake gazing at him.... << MORE >>

As I walked down the street I noticed children begging; innocent, cute faces unaware of the clutching suffocations of this world. As I walked further down the street, my eyes caught a vivid glimpse of children coming out of an a/c car heading to Mc Donalds. I caught them unaware of the luxuries they enjoyed, cribbing for more. An impending sense of questioning this “difference” engulfed within me. << MORE >>

Let me make it clear that I am a firm believer in giving one’s word with care and honouring it once given. A promise not kept, whether by me or by someone else, is not to be commended at all. But the point was which one of the two was the spurring factor; keeping the promise or the image? I believe keeping our word should have been not only the prime concern but also the only one. << MORE >>

That night, Yudhishtra spoke softly to us during dinner. Duryodhana had so far been delaying his plan of torching our palace because he wanted to lull the prevalent public suspicion of his motives, but Purochana might receive the signal anytime now. So we had to slink away the following night, and I was told to invite all the attendants to a special dinner late in the evening and serve sumptuous meals and intoxicating drinks. << MORE >>

The phone rang shrilly, shattering the early morning calm. Roopal looked at the snoring form of her mother, sighed and stretched out her hand towards the noisy intruder. As if on cue, her mother opened her eyes, which warned that she was not to divulge the truth. They carried on their silent communication, while the Home minister wanted to speak to the ‘SP saheb’. “Daddy’s gone to Delhi, will be back in a few days.<< MORE >>

When changes are forced, one tends to make the best of the new circumstances that we are faced with. It’s a conscious effort or should moi say choice? One needs to take time to learn lessons from the situations which led to these forced changes, but beyond that, letting go off the past and focusing on the future one wishes to create. We need to take time to access our goals and dreams. One needs to believe what one actually is saying –this self faith demonstration is vital to boost our self morale.<< MORE >>

Social networking is a boon to mankind. With the flick of a mouse we can connect with long lost friends and relatives, renew an old relationship or forge a new one! With just a click we can connect with strangers across the globe with similar interests and share thoughts and emotions with like-minded people we never even knew existed. With just a little tip tap on the keyboard, we can conduct official meetings and clinch deals without having to move from our seats. << MORE >>

The Hurt Locker is about a specialist bomb disposal squad in Iraq – Bravo Company – and about how they set out on bomb diffusing expeditions that are so tense that the viewer forgets to breath. The film opens with a sequence where Bravo company is at work – casual banter by the members of an elite squad amidst an overwrought situation. The casual banter is deceptive for all of them are aware of the danger that is present every moment.<< MORE >>

Imagine this scenario. A friend of yours commits suicide. And you are called to the cop station to help .Before you know it, the media is on your tail. Throw in a glamorous profession. Yours. A few police leaks. And the suicide becomes a probable murder. From an innocent bystander you now become a target yourself. They follow you and they hound you. They push and they prod you. Your life is now a free for all.<< MORE >>

Its not just This time That I feel the void It is always there When you are away They say that love Is a beautiful feeling Distance makes it even more difficult << MORE >>

I woke up late on a Saturday morning, relieved that I don’t have to go to work today. I looked at the clock and the time was 10:25 a.m. As I looked outside the window, the sun was beating down on everyone mercilessly with heat. It was extremely hot for the past three weeks, and everyone had to battle with the scorching heat of the sun, hoping of some respite and wishing it would rain. << MORE >>

A two-three day train journey need not essentially be boring. Sometimes, just hearing conversations of your co-passengers may provide you with a really enthralling experience. For instance, I’ve had an encounter with a lady who was a school principal. Apologies for the stereotype, but she had huge glasses, a prudent facial expression all throughout the journey.<< MORE >>

How did the kantha originate? Kantha is a Bengali word for quilts made of layers of old fabrics. These were usually made for newborn babies. Three or four worn out sarees or dhotis were aligned and stitched together to form a soft holding sheet for infants. Because of the many layers, they were absorbent and did away with the need for diapers. Besides, new cloth was never used for babies as they were thought to cause irritation and allergies. << MORE >>

When I was posted to Kerala (Palghat) in the year 2000, I did not know a single word of Malayalam, except for the fact that the word “Malayalam” is a palindrome. In my new assignment, I had to often talk to press persons. Every time I used to talk to them, I used to invariably get the answer, “I got it” – which made me wonder as to why, they have a special way of saying, “I got it” – even from normally Malayalam speaking persons. I reasoned, that this may be because of Kerala being the most literate state in the country.<< MORE >>

These are called jungle figs (Anjeer). Both these and the ones you see in the market are from Moraceae family, ficus carica. And what you see as a fruit is the hypanthodium. It is the inflorescence and the fruit as well. The fleshy part you see is the receptacle and is hollow. The flowers are embedded in its inner surface at the top. << MORE >>

Within one or two days, all my children had heard of Varanavata, about its colorful fairs, friendly citizens, bull fights, street plays and folk dances. I did not think it was a mere coincidence when the Hastinapur Court itself all of a sudden woke up to Varanavata's charms and discussed the coming cultural events in detail, leaving aside all the other important administrative matters. I shared my premonitory fears with Vidura.<< MORE >>

I started walking down the hills and stumbled upon something and came falling down so hard....I kept rolling and rolling and finally the trunk of a broken tree saved me. I picked my self up and started to walk back towards the hills to explore what had caused the fall…this was my daily walk to the school for years and I had never once stumbled! << MORE >>

I heard tapping on glass panes above us and saw my mother’s face in the window, watching me play with my friends on the grassy hill. Her skinny frame wrapped in the thin sari, the hip length, black braid swaying around her neck. Eyes gleaming, she motioned with her fingers for me to come inside. It was time for lunch. I was five and ever since I could reach the dining table and hold a spoon, mom and I always had lunch together. << MORE >>

In a century rife with corruption, war and power politics, the cries of thousand such people go unnoticed too. The ruined fort now also began to collapse down, the sturdy roofs that stood testimony to storms and winters, had now given way to crumble down. None, except the few inhabitants of this rural area who were “survivors”. They ate dried plants and drank water from a nearby flowing stream. << MORE >>

As a child it was all about Easter eggs, candies and goring on all those delicacies that the family abstained during the 40 day fast—not that moi fasted religiously. It was all about fast and then feasting. To moi this was Easter. Easter also meant moi could go for the sunrise service—actually this was the only day that moi could rise before the sun peeped into moi bedroom and rudely waking me to face reality. << MORE >>

For most married couples, having children comes as the next option, a healthy choice it seems having been followed for ages and also satiating the natural desire of most men and women. Earlier, with no birth control measures, children were born as and when nature deemed it so. Soon, with the invention and practice of birth control measures, people began using this option as it also gave them a sort of control over their lives in terms of emotional, physical and financial requirements.<< MORE >>

Krish (Aamir) and Meera (Sandhya) are an urban DINK couple, constantly bickering, making up, and promptly bickering again. They oversleep and miss the flight to Goa on the first day of their vacation, and out of the ensuing bickering, emerges a road trip to Goa. The car is nice, the road is nice, the dialogue sounds real enough – yes, Krish and Meera are a couple you feel you know, who have over a period of time pushed the limit a bit more each time, and can now literally say things that they know will hurt the other.<< MORE >>

As the days pass by And twirl from today To tomorrow I tick off the day over Onto my imaginary mind calendar And await your arrival << MORE >>

Pom! Pom! The auto horn blares And I think, “It is You,” It has to be You, No one else! Nobody else is waiting For you Like I am. << MORE >>

The terror and the fury Of sickle and scythe - Weapons of death and destruction Dancing in her hands Her bare breasts covered with blood Still dripping from the severed head that she carries in her hand – What terror she must infuse in the evil minds of evil men? << MORE >>

The very factor which contributes to the beauty of this garment is its chief minus point. Its multiple folds and length do not help in easy mobility. Now owing to the fast pace of life, where young working women have to race against time, the cumbersome dress is not likely to find favour with them. One can imagine only too well the predicament of a sari-clad office-goer who has to rush to catch her bus.<< MORE >>

Every morning Mrs. Sharma comes out of her house with her dog. She holds the leash end firmly in her hand and roams the colony street with her pet. Her dog smells here and there and when the dog stops near a parked car wheel to excrete, this lady gives little thought to the filth she is leaving behind.<< MORE >>

My plans of a trek forgotten, all thoughts of work or term-end outings were submerged by the possibility of a downward health graph. I battled with the probability of a life dictated by doctor’s dictums or worse still, controlled by health issues, where a mere ‘condition’ could change the smallest of plans in a tick. Hey, I am only in the mid-40s, and didn’t life begin in the 40s, as the truism goes? << MORE >>

On a recent trip to a new Supermarket in Hyderabad, I was pleasantly surprised to see fresh golden apricots in the fruit section. The season for fresh apricots is generally from April to August, but these days they are available in all seasons as they are exported from many countries. Turkey, Italy, Russia, Spain, Greece, U.S.A., France, Iran, Pakistan, Australia and New Zealand all produce apricots.<< MORE >>