tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-214700442012-02-03T11:16:55.356+05:30Deepa Deosthaleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00658669752693955365noreply@blogger.comBlogger121100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21470044.post-81793558338128138072010-05-15T14:50:00.027+05:302011-08-09T09:34:42.612+05:30

My domestic help is getting married at the end of this month. She's a young girl of 20 years, frail, a little sickly, but extremely hard-working and affectionate. She is marrying a boy chosen by her parents, the dates and the modalities of the event are being planned entirely at the convenience of the groom's family; her father is grateful for the fact that the prospective son-in-law has a job

Deepa Deosthaleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00658669752693955365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21470044.post-61524450535354090422010-04-08T14:59:00.011+05:302011-08-09T09:37:27.393+05:30

A couple of weeks ago I watched a film called Amal, directed by Canadian-Indian filmmaker Richie Mehta. It's an allegorical tale about a simple-minded, gentle and honest autorickshaw driver in Delhi who's surprisingly untouched by his surroundings. But that's not the point of this article. In the film, Naseeruddin Shah plays an eccentric millionaire who dresses in rags and goes around the city

Deepa Deosthaleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00658669752693955365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21470044.post-52703607409383824352009-10-28T16:28:00.008+05:302011-08-09T12:19:00.877+05:30

By Vidya Bal This is not a thought about death It is a thought towards quality living. Death is the last stop on the road of old age. 'Exit!' It's a sudden, permanent exit from worldly dealings and the business of life. If you continue on the metaphor of a journey, it can be said that, generally, we can't control or know when and where our life's journey begins. And perhaps, in the same way,

Deepa Deosthaleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00658669752693955365noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21470044.post-56075338096449812272008-11-29T11:08:00.011+05:302011-08-09T12:40:11.648+05:30

It seems we’re finally tired of singing paeans to the resilient spirit of Mumbai, which, simply put, actually means nothing more than a daily fight for survival. We can glorify it all we want, but for a large number of people in this city, living from day to day itself is such a huge struggle, the threat of terrorism seems only like an occasional blip on their already busy

Deepa Deosthaleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00658669752693955365noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21470044.post-56805952972756063052008-11-06T07:47:00.010+05:302011-08-09T12:50:56.729+05:30

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Deepa Deosthaleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00658669752693955365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21470044.post-28010795668566639752008-10-21T10:19:00.010+05:302009-11-18T20:52:24.892+05:30

Woke up this morning to hear the news that Raj Thackeray has been arrested in the middle of the night from Ratnagiri (why couldn’t they do it in broad daylight, one wonders) and is being brought to Mumbai to be produced in court. This is an event that shouldn’t really affect my life in any significant way, for, other than being the leader of just another political party with a handful of seats in

Deepa Deosthaleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00658669752693955365noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21470044.post-40775340096399617412008-09-25T21:24:00.013+05:302009-11-18T20:52:53.322+05:30

Every once in a while, unexpected joys sneak out of life’s crevices to lighten the weary heart. Like this afternoon, I found catharsis in the form of a writer of Pakistani origin called Kamila Shamsie. Last year, I’d given her book Broken Verses to a dear student as a parting gift after her post-graduation, since I liked what the back-cover said and because I’m partial to women writers and

Deepa Deosthaleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00658669752693955365noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21470044.post-49371571991510468702008-07-29T10:23:00.010+05:302009-11-18T20:53:46.579+05:30

In the middle of a perfectly harmless online chat, a journalist friend popped a snap poll question for an article she is writing: "If you had to choose between being bored out of your mind in your marriage and your husband's infidelity, which one would you prefer?" It was a no-brainer. I'd choose the latter option with or without its qualitative comparison with lifelong boredom (which, I'm afraid

Deepa Deosthaleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00658669752693955365noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21470044.post-42053174155952178892008-07-17T12:48:00.007+05:302009-11-18T20:53:57.782+05:30

I am an atheist. And am acutely aware that it's not a very nice thing to be, considering the alarming level of intolerance to dissidents and freaks within the human race. All the more reason to be grateful to my parents and grandparents who taught me about honesty, hard work, simplicity and compassion, without ascribing any covert or overt divine significance to them. I was never told to speak

Deepa Deosthaleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00658669752693955365noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21470044.post-71423837675026899432007-08-25T17:32:00.001+05:302009-11-18T20:56:42.214+05:30

Ok. So I haven’t seen a film in what seems like eternity. Which explains why depression is fast setting in – coupled with the fact that we’ve a working Saturday in office (blasphemous! I say). The family decided to catch Heyy Babyy (let’s wreck the English language beyond recognition and add to our kids’ confusion!) last night – while I was slaving it out at work. Daughter loved it and made her

Deepa Deosthaleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00658669752693955365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21470044.post-89772776777880482482007-06-12T16:29:00.001+05:302009-11-18T20:57:11.164+05:30

Did anyone watch Koffee with Karan last week? Only by accident of course. I can't imagine why anyone would actually, purposefully sit down to watch this 'iconic' filmmaker giggle incessantly at his own daft jokes and take pot-shots at all those in the film industry he doesn't like (perhaps because they refuse to acknowledge his greatness) and poke fun at the media in general and film critics in

Deepa Deosthaleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00658669752693955365noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21470044.post-1163153051169592872006-11-10T15:21:00.000+05:302007-09-01T10:08:53.509+05:30

Earlier this week I was invited to attend the release of a book called ‘Janani – Mothers, Daughters, Motherhood’ edited by Rinki Bhattacharya. As I sat at a suburban branch of Crossword Bookstore, I wondered about whether such a book was relevant or necessary at a time when women of my generation are trying to dispel the so-called ‘aura’ around motherhood that has been preserved so carefully for

Deepa Deosthaleehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00658669752693955365noreply@blogger.com3