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SheWhoPens
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Why You Should Visit The Breathtaking Dilwara Temples In Mount Abu
India is a land of beauty, wonder, culture, rich heritage, art and architecture, and the Dilwara Temples in Mount Abu are a timeless example of that. They are a dream in marble.
Located 2.6 kilometers from Mount Abu, the five legendary temples of Dilwara were built between the 11th and 13th centuries AD and are famous all over the world for their stunning use of marble. Though the temples look astoundingly unadorned from the outside, the interiors of the temple exhibit remarkable and striking artistry. The intricate marble carvings inside each temple is breathtaking and can beat the famous Taj Mahal hands down. It is believed that the artisans were rewarded according to the amount of dust they collected, encouraging them to carve more intricately.
The temples in general uphold the Jain values of simplicity and genuine sobriety. Although the Jains built some beautiful temples at other places in Rajasthan, some believe that none come close to these in terms of architectural perfection. The ornamental detail spreading over the minutely carved ceilings, doorways, pillars and panels is simply stunning.
Vimal Vasahi and Luna Vasahi temples are the most famous among the five Jain Dilwara temples. The remaining three Dilwara temples are smaller, but just as elegant as these two. The Pittalhar Temple has a massive metal statue of the first Tirthankara, Rishabha Dev or Adinath. It is cast in five metals. The main metal used is brass or ‘Pital’, hence, getting the name ‘Pittalhar’.
Unfortunately, photography at this exquisite global cultural heritage site was banned in 1992 for unclear reasons. But, I hope this article encourages you enough to pack your bags and leave for this architectural gift to mankind.
Entry Fee – Free
Timings
Jains – 6:00 AM to 6:00 PM
Non-Jains – 12:00 PM – 6:00 PM
Visit Duration – 1-2 hours
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Your feminism isn’t worth shit if it doesn’t defend trans women
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youtube
Maybe some women aren’t meant to be tamed. Maybe they just need to run free til they find someone just as wild to run with them.
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http://webtokri.com/times-mom-totally-right-things/
I love you so much mommy!!
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TEN REASONS WHY IT IS AMAZING TO DATE A GIRL FROM THE NORTHEAST
She’s got the looks, she’s got the poise, she’s got the confidence, and she’s got the brains. Yes, a girl from the Northeast has got it all to blow your mind away! If you men out there are already dating one for a girlfriend, you know you’ve got the best you could wish for, and for the rest, please put on your seatbelts and hold on tight as I ride you through reasons on why you should definitely date a North-eastern beauty because they are simply kickass!
1. Her sense of fashion can give top fashion designers a run for their money. Be it casuals or formals, she’ll always up it with her great taste.
2. She’s probably the only one who can beat you in your passion for music. She’s your real rockstar with a guitar!
3. Her flawless creamy skin and poker straight hair will cast a spell too hard to break!
4. You get free accommodation for your next beautiful vacation. Also, you get to see places not covered by travel journals.
5. They have versatile taste buds. Chole Bhature or bamboo shoot, they love them both and will not wring their noses when you try new stuffs.
6. She knows her geography well. She will be able to tell you the capital of Mizoram! Beat that.
7. She is the best partner for your adventure tours. She will pump your adrenaline with her natural skills of climbing and diving.
8. She will never be the over-dramatic girlfriend you fear because she is self reliant and independent.
9. Who would not want to drown in her highly infectious smile that spreads from one end of the eye to another?!
10. Her parents are not too hard to please. Soft and warm, they’ll totally take you in.
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Supersize Me?
“At least you’ll get to eat at McDonald’s now”, were the words of my bosom friend while I was packing my bags for New Delhi and that made me flash a wide smile. My ‘dimly lit’ town, Shillong, does not have a McDonald's in it and I was overjoyed at the thought of hogging at McDonald's after getting to the big city. Getting my first burger at McDonald's by battling the long cue and fighting for an empty seat at Select City was nothing short of a dream coming true. But before I could soak in the glory of getting my first burger, I stumbled upon a documentary titled, “Supersize Me” by Morgan Spurlock and that was the end of my honeymoon period with McDonald's. A healthy Spurlock embarked on a mission of eating food only from McDonald's and nowhere else for a month to find out about the health risks attached to eating junk.
The film explores the fast food industry’s corporate influence, including how it encourages poor nutrition for its own profit. All throughout my process of growing up, I have heard someone or the other, from inside the family and outside, warn me against eating junk food but I never paid much heed to their valuable warnings but the ‘Show, Don’t Tell’ principle of the documentary showed to me what words could not say. The documentary was a life saver to me as my plans were no less than the countless Americans to thrive on the golden arches.
Now when I pass through one of the happy faces in yellow suits, I smile to myself and say, “I know your dirty little secret!”
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Midnight Memories
July started and while people from most parts of India were updating Facebook statuses on rainfall, Delhiites were gifted with a good 43 degrees average temperature, making my blood boil. While many days went by dry, one fine day or let’s call it night, it did rain, and my friend Jennifer and I, decided to go for a stroll. Nothing was wrong with this except it was 12 in the night and we were in ‘Delhi’. I was petrified of going out at such an ungodly hour; but I did so with a knife in my pocket and a nutcase by my side. The mission of the night was to get out of the labyrinth as E-block of Greater Kailash–I which has only one gate open for entry and exit, but the question was which one? After failing at almost every gate close to Kailash Colony market, we found the one open, unfortunately the farthest from the said destination. As time passed, the rain got heavier and the two smart girls that we were, carried wallets, deodorants, knives but no umbrella. Drenched and shivering in the rain, the usual heat of Delhi made the sudden drop in temperature a bit hard on even the girl from the hills of Shillong. Through all this Jennifer just smiled and walked happily as if this was something so normal for her. Her smile made me worry a bit about her mental health, but I tagged along anyways. Walking into 24x7, the convenient store was the best feeling at a time like this, as the isolated streets seemed like a thing of distance with the hustle and bustle in the store, it finally felt safer, like there were more than just the two of us, walking around Delhi streets at 1am. Grabbing a bite to eat which was the reason why we came here in the first place, we shared pleasantries with the guard and walked back out into the rain. By now I had forgotten my worries and walked with the same smile that seemed retarded a few moments ago.
After having walked a few steps, a strange car stopped by. The windows rolled down and two men in a very neutral tone said, “We live in the same block” and asked, “Shall we drop you?” We instantly in unison said “No” and hurriedly walked ahead. Then dawned upon us the fact that we were journalists in the making because for almost the rest of the night we were deliberating if they were genuinely nice people or if they were the goons for whom we carried the knives. We rushed back into the safety of the gate to the maze where we lived.
That night we did not just put to test the safety that Greater Kailash-I promised but also explored a moment that strengthened a friendship that existed beyond words, between giggles and chuckles. We then went to our “adda”; a park not too far from home, where we hid under a slide not to save ourselves from the rain but to save the ‘now almost wet samosas’ making its way into our tummies.
After that night it never really rained again for quite some time, but the rain that night brought me close to having an actual friend in NDTV. NDTV, where our lives continued, the routines got much scarier, the work load, uff…but at the end of the day, I had that nut job, to share my life with and laugh meaninglessly for hours together.
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ALL THAT GLITTERS IS ALSO DIAMOND!
From being the symbol of authority and strength in the 15th century to being the symbol of rock solidity and undying love, diamonds have made it through almost all the centuries. In ancient India, diamonds were considered so powerful, that they were fixed in sculptures as eyes. Only the Kings, the Rich and the Affluent could possess diamonds back in those days and the story remains so even today.
Diamonds are inextricably regarded as status symbols because big diamond engagement or wedding rings cannot only be signs of true affection. I say that because in case of true love, material things do not matter. However, in modern times, love is expressed by the size of diamonds they can give their partners. The bigger the diamond, the more is man’s love for his woman! A woman without a diamond ring feels ‘less loved’ by her man in today’s world.
Diamond is the hardest rock known to man but it is made with only one element: Carbon. Diamonds are the most resistant minerals on the planet, and can only be molten in temperature more than 5500 degrees Celsius. They will melt only when the planet is literally gobbled up by the sun. Even if the earth reaches an atmosphere as hot and dense as mercury’s atmosphere, we will still be able to find diamonds, shining in all its glory!
They say that if a dog is a man’s best friend, a diamond is a woman’s. The world of advertising in the 20th century made men and women believe that the “Diamond is forever.” To this new generation, a diamond ring is considered a necessity to engagements by almost everyone. A woman’s life is said to be incomplete if she does not possess a diamond. So, most men spend a good amount of their saving in the purchase of diamonds to make their women feel ‘complete’. Not only this, Diamonds are also believed to bring good luck in a person’s life and relationship. So, we have every reason to get ourselves one of those shiny rocks because oh boy! It sure does make one feel good about having a piece of star glitter on one’s fingers.
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Flames to Ashes
A chocolate stained shirt, a tattered one-way ticket from the year last, a few songs from the dead past, I hold so dear to my heart.
A someone somewhere discussing politics with all gusto in the backdrops of a smoking midnight,
my thoughts take me to the mundane that feel sublime tonight.
I do not know what they said about loving, I do not know how they defined longing but what I do know is my soul longs to be loved, the way it was once .
I cling onto the million eternal moments that were made under the sheets,now cold; I long for the familiar touch that made my now drab body once glow.
I burn tonight in my own fiery love for the man from a city far away, oh look what has happened to me, I’m reduced to nothing more than ashes in the wind.
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BONGS WITH A BANG
The “Bangali Shomaj” has had to face harsh remarks and downright absurd theories on them by the world. Is it just because “Bangalis” do not have a Raj Thackeray amidst that people can get away? Since throwing smelly “Shutki Maach” (Dry Fish) or our very own wobbly “Dim er Poach” (Egg Poach) at such people not (always) the solution, let me try and ‘humbly’ (since the world again is of the false opinion that “Bangalis” are not very outspoken or aggressive) “DRILL A HOLE” of sense into their, well, seemingly “Mota Matha” (Thick Headed Skull).
There are several bogus and “Jaata’ notions attached to the “Bangalis” which are considered to be precise synonyms. Therefore, I stand as a representative of all those fellow “Bangalis” who’ve been ridiculed and misunderstood of being what they’re absolutely not in reality!
1. IT IS NOT ALWAYS ABOUT MAACH OR ROSHOGOLLA:
A significant number of contemporary “Bangalis” DO NOT eat Maach (Fish) and Mishti (sweetmeats). They rather condemn fish and sweetmeat unlike their forefathers. They’ve greater fondness for chicken wings and butterscotch fruit salad. Period!
2. WE DO NOT STICK TO THE OBVIOUS, OBVIOUSLY ALL THE TIME:
Now, I know that there are a few “Bangalis”, who detest Sourav Ganguly and support Salgaocar in football. Dada, East Bengal and Mohun Bagan have become alien topics with some of us. the unending Ilish (Hilsa fish) and Chingri (Shrimp) debate is a pastime of the Jethus, Pishas (Uncles) and gyaani-gunis of the family whereas the Bhatija and Bhatijis have high regards for both Ilish and Chingri, irrespective of what the past holds. (For those who may say that I’ve spoken about fish here despite the ‘contemporary bangalis’ detesting it, I’d like to say that Ilish is not just a fish and Chingri is definitely not a fish!)
3. THE FALSE BELIEF RELATING TO “PORASHONA” (Studies):
The “Bongo-Sontaans” no longer stay away from the light in their dark studies solving “sums”.
They also study the intricacies of gerunds from Wren and Martin and other such books. The point is, not every “Bangali Maa Baba” force their children to either become an Engineer or a Doctor. Some of them are allowed to chase their dreams. For eg, me. I wouldn’t have been writing this article if my Maa and Baa were “Typical”. I’d rather have been struggling with Gray’s Anatomy or Designing a Spaceship or something similar to that sort.
4. SUNDAY ADDAS= BUDDHADEB AND DIDI
I’m sorry to disappoint you that the topic of our Sunday addas no longer only comprise of BUDDHADEB DA and DIDI. We’ve learnt to go beyond the “Maa Maati Maanush” slogan and have learnt to draw parallels between the grim poverty of Indonesia and India. The “laal cha” (red tea/black tea) however remains a constant.
5: Romance they say means a lot of poetry and sublimity:
This is shown as a negative. Evidently things would be better if “Bangali men” said “Chalti Hain Kya Nau Se Baraah” rather than quoting from Neru-Da, Nero-Da (any bald-headed intellectual) Deri-Da and the great Dero-Da (the bearded one—Rabindranath Tagore). “Bangali men” will be equally comfortable singing “Paglu Thoda Sa Karle Romance” if that is what is needed to get the Suchitra Sens of today all warmed up.
As I write the final lines of this article, I deeply hope that people would change the way they look at us. We are indeed not like how others think we are. There’s definitely more to the “Bangalis” than meets the eye and it’s a “chi chi, ki lojja” (Shame) if you think we were nothing more than a fish eating community.
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JUST FOR LAUGHS!
English they say is a funny language and we Indians have taken it a mile forward. We have altered the language a little here and there and have triumphed at “Indian-ising” it. Here are a few words and sentences that we use in our day to day lives with impeccable confidence as though they were always meant to be uttered that way.
1. ABUSE:
We Indians do not swear at each other. We ABUSE!
EG:
MR.X: He abused me last light.
MR.Y: Oh yeah? Didn’t know he was Michael Jackson.
2. GOOD NAME:
I’ve been a victim of this. I cheerlessly ask what do people exactly mean by “What is your good name?” Does a person have a bad name too?
3. SERVICE:
This is another thing that is unconditionally funny. I’ve had friends replying, “My father is at service.” to humble questions like, “What does your father do?”
What is he? A car? O.o
4. MYSELF BITTOO:
Most Indian men have a unique way of introducing themselves to people around. They say “Myself XYZ” instead of “I’m XYZ.”
5. RETURN BACK:
Indians very frequently juxtapose words like RETURN and BACK to mean RETURN -.-
6. REAL BROTHER/SISTER
I’ve been asked a several times before if the brother that I have is my real brother. Do we have fake brothers too or as a matter of fact, fake sisters too?
7. ONLY:
We use the word ONLY umpteenth times without tiring ourselves. ONLY makes an appearance in almost all our sentences.
EG:
I am like this only.
You eat like this only?
You stay here only?
And I can endlessly go on with this ONLY because we are like this ONLY!
8. FRAANDSHIP:
“Would you like to fraandship with me?” is possibly the best example of Indian-ness and it has been recently voted as the most used sentence by Indian men.
9. OSSUM:
My dear fellow Indians, I understand how you love using this word to describe beautiful people and things, but trust me when I tell you that jinhone ye language banayi hain unko bhi iska matlab nahin pata!!
10. AND THIS IS MY PERSONAL FAVOURITE.
MY BADLUCK IS TERRIFIC!
Nothing that we say is more horrific!
However, English is not our mother tongue and so it is highly incredible how we have embraced the language as our own. I am reminded of a phrase from my childhood that fits here most aptly:
“TAM TAM TAM TAMATAR KHAYE HUM,
ANGREZ KA BACCHA KYA JAANE,
ANGREEZI JAANE HUM!!”
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VOICES IN MY HEAD
I cannot begin this piece without thanking a few people. It’s because of them that Asha is now a reality.
Samuel Beech: For gifting me Asha and letting me work with her. She is equally yours as she is mine.
Arunabh Trivedi: For your constant criticisms, encouragements and undying faith in me. Thank you for being unbiased and believing that I can be much more than what I am today.
Prantik Chakravorty: For all the bollywood masalas.
and all of you who’ve read, are reading and will read this.
Thank you all.
Ensuing many hard, long and painful nights, I am finally in my shabby and dingy room all by myself. It is surprising because such nights seldom made an appearance in all these years. I do not really like recollections of old memories because they cut me like a knife and I bleed from within. But tonight I have time, time to recline upon the chair at the corner of my room and rewind through my life that has gone by before my eyes. My childhood was blissful and filled with bright hues and I am sometimes envious of my old self thinking about how happy I was…how free I was!
Usually, thoughts of my childhood are rare because most nights, it is the smell of flesh and the feel of groping hands that block any happy memories whatsoever. I had many friends; we were quite a handful and gave everyone around a troubled time. After school, I would reach home, throw my schoolbag around, eat whatever little food mother had prepared for me and rush to the playground to play with my friends. Sometimes, my mother dragged me out of the playground by my hair when I refused to return home even after it was dark. She would beat me black and blue but soon after, wrap her arms around me and goodness would be restored back on earth.
I am still beaten today but by the filthy men I have to deal with, every time I refuse to fulfill their ungodly demands. No arms come to wrap around me today to make me realize that good prevails over bad.
I hope to go back to school, I hope to hear the chime of my mother’s bangles as I watched her work in the kitchen, I hope to hear my sister’s chuckle, I hope to run back to the times where I heard my father snore. I had found it increasingly irritating but now I realize that it was the sweetest melody on earth. I hope to feel my mother’s touch instead of the burly men’s… I hope she would oil my hair and smell the scent of sweet jasmine instead of the intoxicated breath of foul men. Fate played a cruel trick on me, so cruel that it was enough to make the devil shudder out of fear.
Life was not always this horrific for me. I was a bright student with dreams in my eyes and the strength in my heart to search for the stars. My parents were poor and we had a hand to mouth existence. I wanted to study hard and someday reach the top and give my parents the life they truly deserved.
But life took a cruel turn one fine day. My distant relative came to my village one hot summer afternoon. He offered to take me to the city and promised my parents to bear the cost of my education. The expenses of my education were weighing heavily on my parents and the proposal sounded good. Little did I or my parents know what this so called relative had in his dubious mind.
A day later, I began to pack my bags for the city with hopes of a better life. Who would have known that I was actually preparing for a journey to hell? I hugged my father; my mother kissed my forehead and my little sister clung onto me and I could not hold back my tears. I trusted my relative with all my heart and in the next five minutes, I was on a bus for the city. I was innocent and my parents were naive and gullible. I was already beginning to miss my home but I was optimistic that life had great things in store for me.
As I entered the city, I saw tall skyscrapers. Never in my life had I seen so many vehicles on the road and there was so much light and color all around me that for a moment, I completely forgot about home. My relative took me to a shady place. I saw mainly girls and women with very heavy makeup and minimal clothing there. I was then introduced to a fat lady and as soon as she saw me; she pulled my cheeks and looked at me from top to bottom as though scanning me. I was beginning to feel awkward just when the lady took my uncle to another room and I overheard them bargaining for money.
Yes! You got it right, I was sold for a mere ten thousand rupees by my relative. A mere ten thousand rupees! That was my worth.
I received the biggest jolt of my life that shook my entire being. I tried to force my way out of the brothel but I could not as a man tied my mouth, my hands and my legs with a piece of cloth. I was beaten and dumped in a small room at the basement. My body bore unimaginable marks and I felt like a slave.
As days passed by, I realized that a slave led a better life. I spent hours under the shower trying to wash away the filth that gripped my body. But dirt and pain was now rooted and never seemed to leave. I felt like putting a noose around my neck and ending the unbearable pain once and for all. I will not deny the fact that I tried to put an end to my life but it was my name that kept me alive and going.
No one ever asked for my name. If there was anything at all that I was asked for, it was my rate. I doubt if the company that I have, knows my name. But my parents had so lovingly named me ASHA. Just in case you didn’t know the meaning of my name, it means HOPE. My parents had hopes that I would bring them out of their miseries and change their fortune. I had hopes that I would someday make them proud. But here I was, reduced to nothing more than a commodity. The marks all over my body eventually faded away but my heart and my soul was scarred for life.
As I now sit in my dark room and narrate the story of my life to you, I feel a faint light of hope glimmer somewhere within me, hoping that my story will provoke and inspire you to save other Ashas in the making if not this, from this inferno!
#writers#writing#short stories#prostitution#social awareness#being a woman#woman#women#reality#truth#truthbetold
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COIN CARNAGE
India is a land of contradictions. It is a fine blend of the ancient and the modern. While the country is progressing in leaps and bounds in the areas of technological and scientific advancement, a major part of the diverse land is still in the firm grip of superstition. These superstitions have far-reaching consequences, mostly unpleasant consequences.
Indians are known for their superstitious practices such as throwing coins into the water bodies like the dying Narmada River and the mighty Brahmaputra River among the many other rivers, rivulets, streams, brooks, ponds and wells that our land has been blessed with. People engage in such bizarre practices and beliefs thinking that it would bring about good luck to them.
Superstition and ignorance go hand in hand. In their practice of throwing coins in the water bodies, people seldom realize the ills that it brings about for the Indian economy. The health of our economy is sorely degrading and deteriorating and a portion of it could be attributed to the prevalent absurdities. The Reserve Bank of India, which is India’s central banking institution, controls the monetary policy of the Indian rupee. It cannot go on producing as much money as it desires to, because of the fear of inflation. The production of currency is limited, not only in this country but in all other counties of the world and practices as such result in the slow but sure disappearance of a part of the Indian currency from the market, creating a shortage in the supply of currency coins. Because these coins are gulped down by the water bodies and show no signs of return, the RBI, therefore, buys metals from the market to issue new coins instead of recycling the old coins from time to time. This in sequence hampers the economy a great deal as a higher cost is now incurred to produce and regulate coins.
Thus, superstitious beliefs and practices must come to a halt for the smooth and sound functioning of the economy and the democracy. So the next time we get the urge to toss a coin into a lake, river, stream or even the fountain in our neighborhood for ‘good luck’, we should resist it as the irony lies in the fact that our good fortune may not be so good for the economy and, thus, in turn for us all.
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Enveloped Thoughts
Modern life is rapidly changing and to keep up with such a pace, E-mails and text messages seem to be the only preferred mode of communication. Gone are those days when people would take the time to write letters containing their innermost feelings. Yes, E-mail, text message, WhatsApp, BBM, etc are wonderful inventions. They link people across the world, destroying in an instant the hurdle of geography and time that confronts “snail mail”. But despite all the methods of electronic communication, nothing beats the thrill of opening the mailbox and finding a personal letter, written and addressed just to you!
Taking time to pen one’s thoughts down into paper was considered something special and most often worth the wait. I can remember excitedly looking forward to receiving holiday or birthday greetings and letters from my loved ones. It gave me immense pleasure to read through their letters which contained their thoughts and well-wishes. E-mails and text messages, however, fail to have similar impact on me, and I therefore get rid of them after they have served their purpose. A writer’s true emotions are conveyed through his handwriting. His various moods are beautifully sealed in a letter, waiting to be read. Another benefit of recording our messages on paper is their longevity. By comparison to the incredibly temporal nature of electronic communication that demands periodical deletion, physical paper can last indefinitely and continue to have the same charm and effect on our hearts as it once did, a long while ago. One cannot re-hear a phone conversation or re-read an E-mail or a text message once it’s deleted, but a handwritten letter has the strength in it to thwart such shortcomings. An anonymous saying fits here most perfectly. It reads, “The word that is heard perishes, but the letter that is written, remains.”
In the old days, for at least once, every one of us must have experienced the anxiety of that wait for the postman to appear with that precious little paper in his hand, or for the sight of that little envelop in our mail-box that had travelled a long distance. There was an altogether another experience attached to it, an experience that an email or a text message fails to unfurl. Composing an email is fast and hassle-free. Sending the composed message via E-mail or text message is no big a task either. With the touch of a button, an E-mail or a text message is instantly sent across to a person a thousand miles away from me. Perhaps because of an E-mail and a text message’s prompt dispatch, true joys of having sent it do not percolate within me unlike a handwritten letter.
Conversations fill up the patio of our minds when we sit down to write a letter. As the nib of the pen begins its journey of a thousand words, it encounters the accompaniment of a gush of emotions emanating from the writer’s heart. What follows next is the paradoxically delightful and aching wait for the letter to reach to the other end. Its journey through different post offices are calculated in the mind, the imaginations of it reaching there, the juncture of it being read and the wait for its reply, add sheer richness to the experience of life! On the other end, what a delightful moment it is, to be receiving that letter! There is an urge to open it immediately and at the same time there is a dictation of the mind to simply adore that moment of holding the letter and looking at our names alluringly written.
An exquisite handwritten letter is a string that connects hearts from distance; it is an enchanting story we would wish to read again; it is a piece of heart that we would love to embrace in the absence of our veneration and it is a tale of love when expression of it is hard … things that I doubt a mere E-mail or a text message has the competency to accomplish!
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