Home Is Where The (He)Art Is

I am not much of an interior decorator by nature. I have always dreamed of great interiors while living in rental places. In fact, I still do as I don’t ‘own‘ a home as yet. Having a couple of rooms to stay at my parents’ or in-laws’ place is not what I call home. Those are pieces of architecture that they have built spending their money, sweat and often blood – decking them up in their own styles. I can add bits and pieces to those rooms in order to claim them as ‘mine‘, but they aren’t really so. I believe in creating a home at the rectangular box of an apartment where I live each year. I have this plan of a dream home which I have chalked out putting puzzle pieces of blueprint together and adding my own touch to make it my home, our home.

Image Courtesy: RippleLinks.com

Image Courtesy: RippleLinks.com

Asian Paints has been a part of our childhood as far as I can remember. It has been the epitome in the paint industry of India touching our lives in some way or the other. In our friends’ circle, whenever we have a doubt about any hue/chroma/value, the parley always leads to , “Ab Asian Paints ka shade card laaun kya? (Do you want to verify from an Asian Paints shade card?)” . It is heartwarming to find them catering to customers like us in more than one way. Asian Paints Home Solutions sounds perfect for people who are venturing into building a home for the first time. I would look forward to asking for their help in choosing the colour, theme, texture and paint protection requirements when I build a home for my family.

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She Works in Beauty

This post is written for thAs Beautiful As Your Work contest at Women’s Web in association with Tanishq. Watch the Mia video for more information. 

There are women all around us, and then, there are women who inspire us. I will not write about myself or any urbane woman who is erudite enough to make herself and her work beautiful. I feel it would be injustice if I don’t write about the most hard working woman I have seen till now. No, she is not my mother, but my maid or ‘domestic help’ as she would be called these days. I have been witness to her strength, both physical and mental, for the past seven months now.

When we arrived at this apartment in a new city earlier this year, I was looking for a maid. She knocked on the door one fine morning and appointed herself. We got introduced to each other – she said she’s married, has two kids, lives somewhat nearby, has a mobile phone and drives a scooter to work. I was impressed at the advancement of women in Maharashtra, their hard work and determination to save money and buy their own vehicles. She started working and I observed her in awe, as she works nearly twelve hours each day at about seven-eight households. She cooks, cleans, washes, babysits and massages old women in various families. We keep discussing her strength and dedication to work as she doesn’t waste a single moment at work. Always clean and neatly dressed, she comes prepared with a smile and some chit-chat for everyone she meets.

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Sister Of My Heart



This post is written for the Soul sisters contest by Women’s Web and Zivame – (http://www.womensweb.in/articles/soul-sisters-friendship-day-contest/)

I hadn’t heard about soul sisters until I actually found one. I had best friend(s) till then, and some of them still retain that status. They came from various walks of life and burst onto mine with something unique to offer. I was contented with best friends and I did not differentiate them by gender. Then came the inevitable part of growing up, too much of it actually. I had completed a quarter century of years on this planet, was not too happy about it, didn’t know much how to arrange the shelves of my messed up life, when – I met this girl on the Internet.

No, it was not as shady as a chat room ‘Hi, ASL?’ introduction. We had gone past the era of ASLs and entered the era of swatiscrapbooks. My best friend was working in India at that time and I was a student in a foreign university. Distance mattered and we were rarely connected. I had made new friends in a new country, but there was something still missing. After a few months, one of my new friends decided to introduce me to his best friend. He felt that two girls who were quite alike each other must be acquainted and took up the task. Thus, I met Swati. Over scrapbook conversations. Since that was very much a public domain, we exchanged mail ids and started talking. She’s barely older to me by a year or two and had just started working in Calcutta. I don’t know what clicked us instantly, probably the fact that both of us were loners. We chatted for hours, the timezone difference not being a hindrance as she worked on her projects at night while I would be in lab. I guess sore hearts connect easily to each other for mutual healing and the same happened to us. Both of us were going through very rough patches in life, badly bruised by friends and other people, probably seeking solace in better friendship.

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