Amitabh Bachchan's letter to his grand-daughters spoke of carrying forward a legacy, but this mom wishes for her son to abandon some legacies in the interests of creating a fairer world. Read on!
Curious about anything and everything. Proud to be born a woman. Spiritual, not religious. Blogger, author, poet, educator, counselor. read more...
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, indivisual posts do not necessarily represent the platofrom's views and opinions at all times.
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
This strange love story reminds me of Princess Diana when she gave an interview about Prince Charles - "There were three of us in this marriage!”
This love was flawed and broken the way only we humans know how to break things with our ego, pride, insecurity and complexities!
Where do I even begin to tell the story of how deep a love can be, how it transcends time, place and people. Perhaps this is a story about how women are their own worst enemies. Either way it is a story that tells us how frail, fragile and fraught we are as humans and how much we hurt each other.
‘I don’t wear the bindi anymore na, Didi! Neither the thread. He felt I am not wearing signs. Signs of being his. So he lost his temper.’ Preeti pressed the ice against her cheek and walked to the sink full of dishes.
She stared nervously at the bed again. It was not going to be a good day – the dark brown blotches, staring at her as they spread, still fluid, told her.
Paromita Bardoloi began her initiative Letter From A Stranger, India, as the exchange of ideas and advice between her friends. But it has become much bigger than that.
In an age of instant messaging and two minutes noodles, writing a letter seems like a thing from another century. We are so constantly flooded with information, wisdom and conversations are taking a backseat.
Every certificate, every trophy, every achievement of yours made me feel so proud of being your mom. It also made me feel guilty. Guilt of the truth that I haven’t shared with you.
Meenal sat by her mom’s bedside, holding her hand and moistening her lips. Her 80 years old mom had stopped eating one day before, slipping in and out of consciousness. Since the early hours of the morning, she had stopped drinking too. They were waiting for the doctor. Suddenly, her breathing became very labored. The sound was almost like rattles. It was as if she was in pain.