Articles by Divya Sreedharan

Our little man went back to school on Monday. We watched him put on his new t-shirt, wear his new pair of  shoes. We watched him walking with his new school bag, new lunch bag, new water bottle, new name tags And he looked so handsome and smart, and happy, that my heart swelled with pride, with love. I watched him walk beside his father and prayed he would be safe and secure in the world out there. As I went back inside our flat, I happened to look out the window of our living room. A small figure was…

Our little man went back to school on Monday. We watched him put on his new t-shirt, wear his new pair of  shoes. We watched him walking with his new school bag, new lunch bag, new water bottle, new name tags And he looked so handsome and smart, and happy, that my heart swelled with pride, with love. I watched him walk beside his father and prayed he would be safe and secure in the world out there. As I went back inside our flat, I happened to look out the window of our living room. A small figure was…

This Mother's Day, remember the “mother of all battles” that happened in Bengaluru some weeks ago? No, it was not fought on a cricket pitch. Rather, it involved moms who were part of a common forum on Facebook--a group called Mums of Bangalore (MoB, the acronym, turned out to be prescient, in more ways than one). Moms fought with each other. Local moms took on “outsiders” (including the group-founder) for disrespecting the local language, and being disinclined to learn the language of the place they live/work in. There was slander, much shaming, and slurs hurled back and forth. And of course,…

This Mother's Day, remember the “mother of all battles” that happened in Bengaluru some weeks ago? No, it was not fought on a cricket pitch. Rather, it involved moms who were part of a common forum on Facebook--a group called Mums of Bangalore (MoB, the acronym, turned out to be prescient, in more ways than one). Moms fought with each other. Local moms took on “outsiders” (including the group-founder) for disrespecting the local language, and being disinclined to learn the language of the place they live/work in. There was slander, much shaming, and slurs hurled back and forth. And of course,…

One evening, my son and I were at our local library. The place has one of those stubbornly heavy glass doors that basically require you to pull (or push, or vice versa, and yes, I always get mixed up!) and shove, till it slowly deigns to sulkily open. Basically, it is a door you tussle with, but hey, it's good for toning biceps.  Anyway, so there we were, browsing through the Crime section (me), the kids titles (my son), with me shushing him frequently when I heard a noise outside the glass door. A little girl was trying with all…

One evening, my son and I were at our local library. The place has one of those stubbornly heavy glass doors that basically require you to pull (or push, or vice versa, and yes, I always get mixed up!) and shove, till it slowly deigns to sulkily open. Basically, it is a door you tussle with, but hey, it's good for toning biceps.  Anyway, so there we were, browsing through the Crime section (me), the kids titles (my son), with me shushing him frequently when I heard a noise outside the glass door. A little girl was trying with all…

Call me old-fashioned, but flea markets at malls leave me cold. For me, true celebration happens when communities and families chip in, not for themselves but to help others. And how better to ring in the season of giving, with one of the first Christmas Carnivals in the city. And no, this is not a mall-organised shopping festival, but a feast for the senses, featuring handmade, hand-crafted and yes, home-made creations. Every item at the carnival—which is tomorrow, Sunday, November 29, at Daya Niketan, Vitayathel Farm, Inner Byrathi Road, Hennur Road—has been made with love. And how do I know…

Call me old-fashioned, but flea markets at malls leave me cold. For me, true celebration happens when communities and families chip in, not for themselves but to help others. And how better to ring in the season of giving, with one of the first Christmas Carnivals in the city. And no, this is not a mall-organised shopping festival, but a feast for the senses, featuring handmade, hand-crafted and yes, home-made creations. Every item at the carnival—which is tomorrow, Sunday, November 29, at Daya Niketan, Vitayathel Farm, Inner Byrathi Road, Hennur Road—has been made with love. And how do I know…

So, did you read about what happened in Mali; that, there were 27 dead bodies after Malian commandos stormed the besieged luxury hotel to free those trapped inside? Incidentally, there were 20 Indians among the roughly 170 people taken hostage by those terrorists. Did you read about it, exclaim over it, anguish over it? Neither did I. On the other hand, I found myself horror-struck by the Paris attacks, I even cried watching that video of a gunman mowing down innocent café-patrons; and I couldn't bear looking at photos of the pregnant woman who was hanging on for dear life…

So, did you read about what happened in Mali; that, there were 27 dead bodies after Malian commandos stormed the besieged luxury hotel to free those trapped inside? Incidentally, there were 20 Indians among the roughly 170 people taken hostage by those terrorists. Did you read about it, exclaim over it, anguish over it? Neither did I. On the other hand, I found myself horror-struck by the Paris attacks, I even cried watching that video of a gunman mowing down innocent café-patrons; and I couldn't bear looking at photos of the pregnant woman who was hanging on for dear life…