<![CDATA[Krupa Writes]]>https://www.krupawrites.comhttps://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_256,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F7b770bf7-ebe0-402b-9c20-5a9204970439_1878x1748.jpegKrupa Writeshttps://www.krupawrites.comSubstackThu, 21 Nov 2024 07:00:55 GMT<![CDATA[Purple, Curls, and Sunshine Smile]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/purple-curls-and-sunshine-smilehttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/purple-curls-and-sunshine-smileMon, 13 Jun 2022 06:45:56 GMT

There are some distinct memories you associate with some people in your life. I associate my Raji Periamma with summer vacations.

My childhood memories brim with them. It’s a yearly ritual to stay ten days in my Periamma’s home in Sriperumbudur, right around the time of the world-famous Ramanujar temple annual festival. The otherwise quiet and quaint town brims with life during these ten days. The cement roads filled with bright white kolams, hundreds of bhajan groups dancing in tune to their mridangam (instrument)and jing-juks and proceeding to the grand temple, the mouth-watering aroma wafting from every home and Chathrams (rest houses) around.

You could walk into any random house, and you’re guaranteed to return with your tummy filled with a fantastic feast. We would get squeezed into the crowds during these festivals but still maintain the deathly grip of my mom’s hands through it all. I especially enjoyed the Gandhapodi Urchavam on the last day, where people throw the powder on the deity and themselves. The deity being swung by the palanquin bearers does a jubilant dance, and watching it amidst the dim yellow, powdery fog while standing in the haven of the Soda shop run by one of Periamma’s friends is a mesmerizing memory I’ll cherish forever.

But what I loved the most about all these visits was the joy and the celebration but the peaceful hush that came after it. Looking back, I realize the calmer moments shine brighter. The petticoats stitched by the deaf old man and how my Periamma used to talk to him with exaggerated hand moments. We got the rose milk from two houses down, and how our Periamma took us to their home with a big lotta (a traditional pitcher) to get our fill. I remember taking a local bus and going to Gokul Dham and how our Periamma gave me the bangles and earrings that belonged to my sister to wear for those outings. The memories of drawing water from the well in the house and Periamma watching over us with a smile. Being afraid of going to the bathroom that’s outside the house and Periamma waiting with sleepy eyes till we finish our business; looking through the windows while monkeys pranced about creating havoc and Periamma chiding them; The crystal clear sounds of everybody around calling my Periamma “Bankaramma” (colloquial term – means wife of the banker), and she responded with a smile and a nod.

These memories make a kaleidoscope with my Periamma at its epicenter, like a shining bright Purple gemstone through the many blurs of color.
I keep forcing myself to remember all these and only these as I try to drown the thoughts about how she died. Yes, we lost her, and it’s been a month.

A month since an unfillable void was created in our lives. We lost her to a tragic accident. A grotesque horror one at that. It was a hit-and-run by a drunk driver right in front of her house, where she had lived and breathed for years. There’s a surge of useless, helpless anger every time I think about it, and believe me, I think about it every damn day. It’s been a month, and the pain is still raw. Fate is the most, especially when it takes away peaceful and genteel souls gruesomely. But do I blame fate for this? Or the man who was arrogant enough to do this because he had powerful connections? What can I do besides sit and fume with tears running down, juxtaposing the horrible event and happy memories? We could talk in length about complaints and legal actions, but the truth is- seeing the person who you loved dearly, who had smiled and laughed with you just that morning, lying down lifeless in the icebox with a face that’s beyond recognition; It just takes the fight out of you. You are left back as a grieving bundle of mess who keeps questioning the pointlessness of everything. Your anxiety and depression that you’ve been brushing under the carpet kick back in, and you have an existential crisis.

After going through all of it, I’m seeking solace in the comfort of my familiar routine. Letting go of some of my pain through my words. I know time heals wounds like it always does. For now, I’m dealing with it the best way I can- Talking to my mom often; reconnecting with my sister who just lost her mother and mourning with her; reaching out to my people just asking after them; writing a post in my blog after years; looking at Tharun’s glorious smile and determined attempt to stand up and walk. Trying to remember the best of my Periamma. Associating her with all things bright and vibrant. Seeing her wearing her Purple silk saree, taming her curly, tufty hair neatly with a clip, always wearing a smile.

She’ll always be that; Purple, Curls, and Sunshine smile.

Rest in Peace, my beloved Perimms. You’ll always stay in our hearts.

]]><![CDATA[A Score and Four - The Story Behind]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/a-score-and-four_the-story-behindhttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/a-score-and-four_the-story-behindFri, 19 Apr 2019 19:13:01 GMT

Life throws you random lessons and treasures through one medium – People. They say ‘it takes a village to raise a child!’ that is because we learn, grow, adapt and reflect what who and what we see around us. And people are the very fabric of what makes A Score and Four.  It is my reflection of the people I see, pass by, overhear or interact.

My short stories were mostly typed overnight, but I would never call any of them an overnight product. I think each and every one of them began from the day I started observing the people around. When depression started devouring the best version of me, I started looking around, trying to figure out life, trying to draw inspiration from the outside world, struggling to fight the void that was threatening to fill me. I tried to stop and listen, to reach and hold. The blurred colours that had whizzed past me so far, slowly resolved into faces. And each face had a story.

I started putting them in words in 2014, after dusting the cobwebs out my blog, a little gift that my husband gave me way back in 2011. I blew new life into Merila.gln.me, with my first ever short story, “How I met My Rapunzel!” It’s been kind of a slow waltz with it ever since. Even then I refrained from posting them from any of the social media profiles. I started keeping them all treasured in my blog.

What started as a mere hobby, grew firmly rooted inside me, as a part of my identity. I started writing one story after another, slowly remembering one face after the other. The lonely homeless woman who slept with her dirty bundle of clothes in the bus stop became a story, the little boy who half-pedals a big bicycle and whirled ‘The Hindu’ papers in the morning became a story. I tried imagining their backstory, and it opened my eyes and world into a kaleidoscope of colours, mostly many different shades of greys.

What was merely a vague dream, started taking a solid shape through my blog and I owe a big one to LN (my husband) for making it possible. He identified the true potential of what it could be, nurtured the passion in me, pruned out my laziness and exposed me to the light of social that helped me grow. He believed me when I couldn’t and that I think, has made a world of difference to me. He pushed me to start writing under my own name, called me a writer when I didn’t have the guts to do it myself. Merila.gln.me evolved to Krupawrites.com which later started growing as a basic definition of who I am.

My debut book - A Score and Four is a collection of 24 short stories is the product of years of hard work, sweat, blood and tears. It is merely my reflection of the society in as neutral a tone I could achieve. It has stories of people we meet in our life every day. None of the names or physical features of any of the characters in the story would stay with you once you finish the book, but I hope the people in them will.

So, What made it all come together? Stay tuned for my next post, to know more!

Buy your copy here (only on Kindle for now): https://amzn.to/2P7PuG5

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<![CDATA[A for Aasay chocolate]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/a-for-aasay-chocolatehttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/a-for-aasay-chocolateMon, 01 Apr 2019 18:33:37 GMT

This is my first ever #AtoZchallenge, and I was wondering what it was all about. I reached out to the literary Wikipedia (seriously, the woman has answers to every question that you throw when it comes to writing or blogging ). She gave a She gave me a brief explanation to me over a WhatsApp voice message, and I grabbed this opportunity hard and fast. This series is a walk down my memory lane, peeking into the valuable treasure chest of memories that I have collected. I hope you get to enjoy them as much as I did! When you live in a big joint family, you have a defined set of people who discipline you and the other who pamper and spoil you big time. I am always up to some antics or the other and often fall prey for my mother’s dosa karandi (Spatula used to flip dosai). It happens quite often, and every time I bawl my eyes out and rush towards my grandma.  She chides mom for beating me up and takes me for a short walk.

Our short walk usually ends near the shop at our street end. And every time, I end up with a fistful of Aasay chocolates. I think it’s an integral memory every South Indian 90’s kids childhood. I loved everything about that toffee and thinking back it’s the perfect metaphor of my childhood. Simple, sweet, without pretence. Everything about Aasay chocolate is fantastic, from the shiny blue wrapper that is sure many of collected and made rings, to the delicate way it melts in your mouth and the sticky feeling it leaves behind. As I grew up things around me changed and so did the chocolates. Though I look around unconsciously for a Ferrero Rocher or Bournville whenever I want to eat something sweet, the wonderful memory of Aasay lingers, like the tiny bit that remains stuck to the wrapper, that gives endless pleasure while licking it off and the aftertaste that lingers long after you’ve eaten it.

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<![CDATA[Amazing Women - Ep.10 - Wonder Women]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-10-wonder-womenhttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-10-wonder-womenSun, 10 Feb 2019 18:30:00 GMT

At school, there are classes where we sit enraptured, mainly because it is taught by our favorite teacher, and some subjects where we force ourselves to sit and focus because they are deemed necessary for the future. And there are classes where we study mildly fascinating subjects that catch our attention for a few chapters but eventually fade away as they get complex. For me, that subject was biology. One of the experiments that caught my attention was a plant's lifecycle and a phenomenon called “Phototropism!”

It is the process where a plant reaches out and bends toward the direction of sunlight, and the standard example is when they have a potted plant lying down horizontally. The plant would bend ninety degrees to grow towards the sunshine, and that little plant is etched in memory.

As I sit here, penning down my last article of the series, that plant returned to my memory. Aren’t we all like that plant? Leaning and bending towards people, who shower us with unconditional love, are the undepletable source of our positivity and give us immense joy every time we seek them. One of them invariably ends up being our mother. In my case, I am doubly blessed as I have my mother-in-law on that list too. And this entire series is a tribute to these two truly inspiring women. Let’s start the tale with my mother, shall we?

Like many little girls, growing up, I was daddy’s little princess, and he used to call me Princess Diana as I totted her hair cut, which was all the rage back then. I did everything with my father, and my brother was closer to my mother. All I had in my mind about my mom was that she was a strict woman who wouldn’t hesitate to box my ears if I slipped in my marks. Slowly blossoming into womanhood, every one of those moments I hated her came back painted in a different view, in a zoomed-out view of the microscope, finally showing me the bigger picture. I wouldn’t be the woman I am today if my mom hadn’t been who she was. She was, like many middle-class women in our society, who barely slept, who took care of her children, who made sure there were meals on the table three times a day, who took care of every house chore one could imagine single-handedly, who would turn up in all the parents-teachers meet, who did a personal background check of her children’s friends, their bags and their diaries, who could sniff anything even slightly off with the member of the family and do it all while also running a shop part-time.  

To be so many things at once, to be the sun the family revolves around, one must be immensely brave. And my all that and more. Ever imagine taking up a full-time job during the age and time when people finally decide to settle down calmly and retire? My mom, for the most part, was a stay-at-home woman who looked after our shop from 11 AM to 6 PM while my dad went out for his office work. She stopped after a while when my father decided to take up the shop full-time. A few years back, our whole world came crashing on us when we learned about our financial situation and our many debts. That moment she took on to wear a mantle that I would admire for the rest of my life. She took up a full-time job, working under someone after a gap of twenty years. She never complained about the cruel twist of fate but started looking at solutions and trying to make us all move on and past that. It was one of the most challenging phases of my life, but her silent strength and long breath of acceptance every morning inspired me to work hard toward life in general and not give up. My mom is not big on advice; she taught me a lot by example. I owe it all to her, for she is a fantastic gift to be loved, honored, cherished, and celebrated for the rest of my life!

The Other Mother:

I remember meeting my husband’s mother ten years back. She had such a cheerful and welcoming smile that I think I fell in love with her even before I did with her wonderful son. She works as a librarian in the Income Tax Department’s office in Chennai, and I have never seen such a committed woman who respects and loves her job as she does. She is a person who has been affected by Cerebral Palsy from birth which has affected her motor nerves making her legs progressively worse over the years. She cannot walk short distances without someone helping her or leaning on a wall. Going to work is a challenge, as she must get out of her van (which she climbs into with much effort every day) and walk to her office building by crossing the ever-busy Nungambakkam road. But I have never heard a sigh or had a dull moment while she gets ready for work. For she’s been doing it religiously for twenty-five years now, her finish line is close, and she has a couple more years to complete her service and retire. But she has no intention of stopping there. She wants to teach at a daycare center after retirement, wanting to teach and care for children with special needs as she had done in the early stages of her career before she signed up to serve as a Government employee. She loves traveling and meeting people and is always ready for an enjoyable bike ride with her beloved husband. For example, she taught me to laugh at my difficulties and enjoy the minor things in life with all the zeal I could feel. She’s an instant mood lifter with her ever-cheerful smile that tactically hides the grit of iron and that ferocious streak of tenacity. She is taciturn regarding her pains (and I have seen her go through a lot of them) and asks with a hopeful smile if you have eaten something, even if she’s lying in her hospital bed. She is strong, determined, empowered, cheerful, lovely, and so much more.

As I finish this ode, I can only pray a few more healthy and happy years to share and cherish these amazing ladies of my life. I started this series to practice writing more, but from the first ever episode, this has been a rather intense and life-changing experience for me. In the last forty odd days, I’ve learned to laugh more, to live full, to work hard, to play harder, to love deeply and to be more! And I hope this had been a pleasant experience for you too!

It’s time to call a wrap on this series, but don’t fret; there’s plenty more coming your way; until then, this is Krupa signing off!

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<![CDATA[Amazing Women Ep.9 - Anita Kamaraj - Etched in Memory]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-9-anita-kamaraj-frozen-in-timehttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-9-anita-kamaraj-frozen-in-timeThu, 07 Feb 2019 03:30:00 GMT

Imagine a beautiful dawn. The first rays of the sun were just teasing the sky with his gentle warmth, a subtle foreplay. The sky, in turn, blushes a gorgeous shade of pink, orange, and crimson. And just like the lace veil of gossamer silk that covers a bride’s face, a gentle layer of fog, covers the lush green tapestry made by the leaves, each of them sweating their night’s hard work as dewdrops. But all of these looks blurred, compared to the lone woman that stand amidst them. She is draped artfully in a saree of an earthy tone, the brown of it merging to the soil below as though the woman had sprouted from beneath, her lush black hair gently cascading down her shoulders in soft swirls. An orange Daffodil rests near the back of her ear, and she is lost in the serene beauty that surrounds her, her sculpted face painted with a smile of complete content, her eyes closed as she memorizes the beauty of it all. It becomes a moment frozen in time, etched in memory for all eternity.

And has the unmistakable watermark that says “Anita Kamaraj!”

I met Anita in one our foodie meets, and I remember being surprised when she introduced herself as a photographer. Yeas, we women are taking up and making a mark in a lot of fields, but photography is still a field that we are yet to explore to it’s fullest potential, and it’s not every day you get to meet a woman who is a professional photographer and looks confident and completely at ease holding a professional camera. I was duly impressed. When I decided to compile this series, her name was the first one I wrote down along with the first question I would ask her

“When did the passion for Photography start? When did become your profession?”

“Photography always excited me since I was a kid.

The technology which can capture and print a memory intrigued me a lot. When I was around 8 or 9, my parents had gotten a polaroid camera, and that minute which a picture came out of the camera, I knew I was going to have an intimate relationship with that gadget.

I liked what I chose to study, engineering and journalism. But those weren’t enough for me, those didn’t complete me, the jobs weren’t what I was looking for! The work started to exhaust me mentally and exhaust my creative sense or the urge to do something new. It would be 3 years since I started doing it professionally” she smiled.

I first started noting Anita’s work in my Instagram handle when Subhiksha Venkat and few other friends began to some breath-taking photographs that captured their essence and the nature around them with such depth and character. It needs the right light, posture, setting, mood and so many other nuances to get it right, and it is more challenging in outdoor photography where many of the factors are not under your control.

“How do you manage them all? How do you design and style your photographs?” I questioned, my curiosity evident.

“Outdoor fashion shoot is fascinating and fun. We don’t style a photograph per se. We decide on a concept then pick clothing and relevant hair and makeup and choose a model who will pull it off, and we just go to the spot and start shooting, once you figure out the angles it’s easy to go forward with the shoot.” She replied with a shrug and a smile.

There are various genres in photography, and Anita loves and specializes in food and fashion photography, and she claims the former is her favorite. And Anita’s photos have such a sense of a life of in them, that you could almost smell the faint aroma of the delicacy her lens had captured. What would run in her mind every time she gets clicks a picture! I wondered.

“What do you say to yourself, every time you get behind your camera?” I asked her,

“Not kidding, I don’t think anything when I get behind the camera, but at sometimes there would come beautiful frames in them, and my heart would just flutter, and it is why I chose Photography!” she beamed.

Such passion is the only ladder that makes one soar heights, against all the odds. It is the only light that drives one through tough times, makes one excited and hopeful of the future. What would be Anita’s way forward from here, I wondered.

“I honestly don’t know where it is going to take me. But I do want to establish myself in the field of food Photography. For now, I am happy with the journey. It is scary at times, because of the insane amount of competition in the field. To be noticed, one must do things consistently yet differently” she said, her voice resolute.

My admiration for the woman spiked up sharply, bolstered by her succinct answers, her chilled-out personality, and her beguiling smile and as I drew close to the end of my interview, I could feel my heart expand with pride with pride thinking all my amazing women so far. I realized this would be the final time I ask my last question and it is a memory that would remain etched in my mind for a long time.  

“What message do you have for the women out there?” I asked her

“Women are already rocking the field of Independent artists, don’t give up on your dreams no matter how small or big they are. Don’t be frightened. Don’t let others tell you what you are good at. Believe in yourselves. It’s never too late. Discover your dream, work for it, pursue it, rock it and make your heart flutter!” She finished.

With my heart fluttering, I want to let you know that this the end of the interview sessions of my “Amazing Women” Episodes. The last episode of this feature is a special feature about not one, but two of the most important, inspiring women in my life. Stay tuned for the finale!

PS: Checkout Anita Kamaraj on Instagram

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<![CDATA[Amazing Women Ep.8 - Malini Gowrishankar - The Fiery Wings]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-8-malini-gowrishankarhttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-8-malini-gowrishankarThu, 31 Jan 2019 06:32:00 GMT

When you have a husband (then boyfriend) who’s crazy about networking, you go to places, you never knew existed. You become part of communities that you come to love. You met a lot of interesting people who could teach you and inspire you for life. You make amazing friends that you would never let go for eternity.

That is how I ended up in Headstart Chennai Edition’s first start-up Saturday. And, that’s where I met this magnificent woman, who this episode is all about. I remember my first ever association with HS. My husband was a volunteer with the community, and I tagged along with him like I always do (I know, I am annoying that way!) I watched with growing curiosity the bustle all around, especially of a woman in a slick “Time to start up is now” T-shirt, a functional pair of jeans and a stylish Pixie cut. She had an air of confidence about her, endless energy and infectious enthusiasm.

My husband introduced me to her, told me she was Malini, an entrepreneur who runs a start-up company called F5 Escapes. It is a venture that specializes in organizing all-women trips with customized itinerary and provides an immense opportunity for women who would like to explore traveling without having the nagging doubt their safety.

I was stunned. Can you ever develop a deep respect and immense pride for a person in the when you have just met them? Malini was one such rare gem. And, when I decided to interview her for the series, I immediately knew the first question I would ask her

“How did F5 escapes start? When did the idea get rooted?”

“Started in the aftermath of the Delhi rape case. When that happened in Dec 2012, I realized I wanted to make travel better for women in India. I solidified the idea by April and by June, the company was up and running. F5 Escapes has the vision to redefine the way women travel in India.” She said.

I went from shock to anger to resentment to admiration in few seconds as I processed her answer. Women around the world have been oppressed forever, and the simplest and the most basic of human rights becomes a privilege for us. There is an entire sector of industries that entirely revolve around the concept of women safety. From pepper sprays, tasers, rape alarms, tracking apps to even rape safety underwear, we need several layers of precautions to step out of the house. Even with it all, we can never be too careful. We can never be out alone after a particular timeline, we can never drink to the point of getting tipsy, we can never walk alone in a shady lane, once every minute and the list goes on. Whatever we do, however, we fight we are still gory victims of the society affected one way or other, at varying degrees. To see a woman, raise with such responsibility and courage from another woman’s ashes, being a pioneer in the path of change is not just awe-inspiring, it’s heart-warming and truly sensational.

Thanks to her company, Malini meets several strong women who have instigating stories of their own, and together they form strong, ever-lasting, trust-worthy bonds that would last for a lifetime. I was curious about the whole ecosystem which formulated my next question.

“You would have met different women from different walks of life on your trips, some adventurous, young explorers, some middle-aged, conservative women who’s never travelled without their family before, old women who finally get their chance to savour their personal time, how do these women come together? what do you take home after every one of these journeys?” I asked.

“The first year of F5, I organized led a trip every month. That opened my eyes to perspectives I never had before. While in the initial days, our clientele were primarily single women, our groups these days have a mix of people from different backgrounds and varying levels of travel experience. The ability to share your space with a stranger and opening to them is a great skill to have, and I think our trips impart that to some extent. Also, being women empathetic to each other and learning from each other is another takeaway. Travel can lend perspectives that being in one place doesn’t, and we are earnestly trying to facilitate that.  

Today we offer the following: Group departures, where a tour is announced, and women from anywhere can join in, Customised vacations for your own girl gangs, solo travel planning, and even family vacations! We also empower women with upskilling workshops like Motorbiking, Horse-riding, etc. and awareness workshops on sustainable menstruation, travel safety and sexuality education.” Her voice rang loud and clear.  

And what a voice it is! If you happen to follow Malini on Facebook, you would realize that in addition to her invigorating thoughts she has an entrancing voice. She loves to sing, and she has been a professional voice over artist for years.

“How did that come about? was it a hobby?” I hurled questions at her, none too gracefully, my fascination and curiosity getting the better of me.

“I used to participate in TV reality shows back in the early 2000s. I moved to Bangalore in 2005, and I still wanted to keep my singing gene alive - hence I went to a recording studio in 2006 to record my voice for a reality show audition. The sound engineer said I had a great voice suitable for voice overs and I should give it a chance. Those days, I did my first ever voice over!

It continued as a hobby until I quit my corporate job to take it up full time in 2011. Soon, I set up a home studio and started recording - I also took up a part-time job as an RJ with Timbremedia ( Worldspace) and started doing creative writing. This continued till 2012 until the Delhi rape shook me enough to switch career and take up women safety and travel as the primary pursuit in life.” She sobered.

I took a breath as I processed. Malini has never been the one to shun away from bold choice both on the professional and personal front. She is a single mother, raising one gem of a boy, who is growing up to be an impeccable gentleman. Sangeeth is humble, understanding, caring and deeply rooted in ethics.  

“Being single parent shouldering double the responsibilities, what values do you hold on to and impart to your son that makes him grow as responsible and compassionate as he is?” I asked her,

“I am proud of is the way the child has blossomed - Children of single parents turn out to be generally more mature and sensitive than their peers, with a bit of guidance. Also, one thing that people going through a divorce must understand is that no parent has the right to deny the child his/her other parent unless the other parent is proven to be a dangerous person to the child.  If all women and men keep this is mind and not pollute the child’s thoughts with their own bitterness and contempt for the ex, the child can grow up to be a very empathetic, sensitive person. Counseling is a brilliant tool as well - Some amount of awareness on child and adult counseling and what wonders it can do will really help people going through adversity bounce back to life.

Regarding values, empathy, forgiveness and the ability to think from another person’s perspective are some of the key benefits that I am trying to instill in the child. Long way to go!” Malini said, and like everything she has said before, this made perfect sense and increased my respect for this marvelous woman multi-fold, and I knew of all the women in the series, this woman’s answer for my last question would create a lasting resonance.

“What message do you have for the woman out there?” I whispered, holding my breath for her answer.

“I am no expert to dole out advice. But I can say this as a peer - it is a great idea to understand the impermanence of life and not take oneself or one’s current set of ideas as the ultimate reality. We change, our ideas change all the time! Also, developing enough mental strength will help us tide over most situations. Vipassana, a lot of reading and keeping at my business all through adversity were the things that helped me. Go figure out what drives you and keep at it!”

She said with a heart rendering smile, and that folks is the best message I can get across to you ever and I am mighty proud and grateful to myself that I did!

PS: Checkout Malini’s startup, F5 Escapes here

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<![CDATA[Amazing Women Ep.7 - Subhiksha Venkat - Made in Chennai]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-7-subhiksha-venkat-made-in-chennaihttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-7-subhiksha-venkat-made-in-chennaiWed, 30 Jan 2019 16:31:38 GMT

Though I know it’s man-made, every time I look up at the fireworks in the night sky, I think “this is what magic must look like!” Ever thought about the source of them? They look pretty in their own way, packed in simple packaging, nothing seems unique about them, till you see them in their element; and when you get to see them in their prime and part, you are captivated by their sheer magic all your eternity. You want more of them, because they mesmerize you, make you believe in the power of a tiny spark, lay proof of the heights you could reach by just pushing yourself  a little further, show the glorious magnificence you could transform yourself into, and show how you could be a lasting moment of magic in many people’s lives.

Such is the magic of a small firework, such is the magic of Subhiksha Venkat.

I remember meeting Subhi in one of our foodies meets, a young girl, who looked fresh and adorable, a sweet college kid. I remember having some brief conversations with her and forgot her at that. As time by, we started connecting over many digital, and that’s how I came across her Instagram profile, and I was blown away. Over the memory of a little girl, over-lay the face of a young woman who was stylish, sophisticated, elegant and pleasant. I’ve been following her ardently ever since, continually marvelling at the way she has moulded herself, the way her sense of passion got refined. But all things start small, don’t they? So, I asked her where did this unquenchable thirst for fashion start?

“I was always fond of dressing up & dressing people up from when I was a baby. My grandfather still makes fun of the fact that I made my grandma a guinea pig when I was 5-6 years old and applied powder, Lishtik (Lipstick), cream and styled her hair with hair gel and oil. I love representing myself with the outfits I wear, styling it in different ways possible, finding new brands that suit my personal style. I loved the confidence that it gives me!”

True, dressing better, gives us a tremendous boost to our confidence. The more we feel we are in our skin, the better it shows. But that doesn’t mean you have to go out the of the way or overboard to the point of making it uncomfortable. Comfort is the numero uno factor when it comes to everyday fashion (we’re going to conveniently forget, the MET gala, our wedding, and Halloween here) and Subhi knows and shows how to do that while retaining the chic factor.  

“You have a chic yet elegant style, how do you pull it off? how do you choose your brands?” I asked her,

“Thank you, Krupa!” she blushed to a pretty shade of Coral (or imagine any other shade of palest peach, I should think) I think that I do not try too hard to put together an outfit. I don’t over accessorize, don’t work with way too many colours…basically, I don’t overdo, and it could be the reason. More than the brands, I choose the products!”

With that simple answer, don’t underestimate our daring young woman as she can very well cause a viral revolution. Her #teamblacksaree was a sensational trend that captivated the South Indian women, who are curbed from wearing anything black to any auspicious occasions. As the story went, she had worn a beautiful black silk saree to a wedding, and people took it on them to advice about the inauspiciousness that the colour black can bring about feel-good occasions, like a wedding. She had then sought to Instagram, questioning the freedom of choice and the age-old social norms that still, somehow find a way to bind us. Scores of women took were inspired by it, and took to the media with the #teamblacksaree hashtag and posted many pictures of them boldly defying customs, being rebellious all the while looking ethereal, draped in spectacular black sarees.

Quite a fabulous tale isn’t it? Dressing up takes a lot of courage, to be honest.  I know many of us at some point or the other, completely fell in love with a dress but didn’t dare to do even a trial of it, fearing what would people comment about it, when we venture out wearing it. “What tip can you tell for women to come out of that shell?” I asked her,

“Ah, just go for it, ladies! The only thing that I would say is to dress up for yourselves and not for others. Don’t expect validation from others. If you are satisfied, then the confidence will automatically show.” She smiled.

I agreed, smiling back. Confidence is not just defined by clothes, but our choices and actions as well. Subhi is not only daring and adventurous with her selection of products, but we could also tell that about her when it comes to her profession. She quit her stable full-time job, to become a PR Manager and handles the Public relation aspect of many popular brands.

“It is quite a gamble to give up a full-time job and start a career where you help brands build their social presence, what motivated you to take that step?” I asked her,

“Yes, I was in a regular 9-5 job. I quite enjoyed my work, but I really loved the world of Digital marketing, PR and of course my blog. I really wanted to explore this section, and well, I just took a leap of faith.”

Maybe answers to all complicated questions in life is a simple as that. Perhaps all it takes is a leap of faith. All that’s needed to make a difference it to take the first step. I asked her the last question before I wandered off into a quest of soul-searching.

“What message do you have for the women out there?” I questioned, quite curious to know her answer.

“The Future is Us, ladies!”

she said with a cheer, and that was quite perfect!

PS: Checkout Subhiksha’s website Made in Chennai

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<![CDATA[Amazing Women Ep.6 - Mathangi Manikandan - The Magic of a Smile]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-6-mathangi-manikandan-the-magic-of-a-smilehttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-6-mathangi-manikandan-the-magic-of-a-smileTue, 29 Jan 2019 06:40:44 GMT

As I sit staring at the blank MS Word document, thinking about the woman who this article is about, I can’t help but roll my eyes above and give a grateful sigh heavenwards. Ever had a person who walked into your life with so much life and love, that everything you had previously seems like a colored blur? Ever had a person a person gets into your life and fill some part of you, that you didn’t even realize was a void? Ever met a woman in your life, who can forever leave you with a smile and a sense of happiness, with just a smile? In short, have you ever come across Mathangi Manikandan in your life?

If you had, then you have been blessed with a dose of good leprechaun luck!

I owe a great deal to my husband, who is the prime reason for all the fantastic people in my life. He always pushed me out of my comfortable, introvert zone and introduced me to some fabulous people who I carry the privilege of calling friends. One such person is Mathangi.

I still remember meeting her the first time, walking towards us like a breath of fresh air. All through the meeting, I think I sat quite self-conscious, mentally trying to estimate her age. She prodded me subtly, with an occasional question, and without realizing I had opened, encouraged by her ever-present, mischievous smile. A memory that I would carry for life.

And that’s the first thing I asked her. “I’ve always seen you with an upbeat, positive smile no matter what happens with life, how do you do it?”

“A healthy dose of that Sagittarian optimism (or denial?) maybe?!” she said.

Honestly, trust her to come up with quirky one-liners like that! Did I tell you about guessing her age, when I first met her? I had decided that she was a postgraduate probably in her final semester, so I think you could imagine my shock when I heard that she was an architect who had a thriving business. She runs The Inside View, a firm that does fabulous interior décor. Her designs are versatile, they are breezy, sophisticated, minimal, elegant, all at once. I was curious about the roots of it.

“Have you always been interested in architecture and interior design? where did the journey start?” I asked,

“My dad used to be a builder/contractor, and so I was essentially raised on construction sites playing real-life Lego. So, I knew pretty early on that I wanted to be an architect - except for a brief while when I was 10 and wanted to be the Prime Minister of India.”

For all knew, we would have more beautiful roads if she had gone on to pursue, her ten-year-old self’s dream (Sigh!). As I always say, customer satisfaction in the design field is an arbitrary concept. What would be considered a good theme, in terms of aesthetics and technical expertise may earn nothing but a displeased purse of lips from the end user and vice versa. It is always about striking a balance between the customer’s needs, and our expertise and Mac is an excellent juggler of things.

“How do you stay at the top of your game? How do you keep yourself updated about the design trends around the world and get it to your clients?” I questioned,

“We live in great times where you can go online and educate yourself on just about anything. Clients are more aware these days, well-traveled and Pinterest the hell out of each trend and so the online community helps a lot overall. But having said that, trends and fads are just transient. What makes you stronger and more consistent as a designer is a firm conviction that you design for real people with real lives. These are spaces that people get to work in for most of their day or get back to each evening as a haven from the world. I remind myself with each project that it is the client’s home or office and the design needs to reflect their own personality, lifestyle, all quirks included. It keeps me grounded and makes me deliver what exactly they need. After all, we don’t design just for the photographs to turn out pretty or seem Pinterest worthy.” She answered without a hint of pretense.

That is what defines Mac! She is genuine, smart, humble, reliable, no pretense and no-nonsense. She has been a strong pillar of support and friendship ever since she stepped into my life and I told her as much. It made me wonder, who does she lean on? And that was my next question.

“You are a strong pillar in my life, and you seem to there for people no matter what! Do you think it’s imperative to have a support system? Who is that person for you?

“Oh, am so touched you feel that way. We all get overwhelmed, and we all have days when we feel we just can’t go on. It helps to have people who have your back, who always show up for you, check in on you from time to time or at least someone to rave and rant to without being judged. Otherwise, it is just one long lonely journey on earth isn’t it? As cliché as it sounds, my family is everything to me…we are this oversharing, tight-knit bunch that sticks together no matter what!” she said, with absolute conviction.

All through the series, this has been the consistent answer. A woman can step out an do to achieve anything that she sets her heart, despite all the odds when she a strong support system and it’s all the more profound when it comes from your family. And family doesn’t stop with kith and kin. It grows full with your friends, your well-wishers and anyone who contributes to your happiness and draws pleasure from the prospect.  For me, Mac is family.  

We don’t meet for months together, don’t even chat as often as friends do, but the mere thought she exists keeps me content and happy. This time I did extract a promise for a meet-up soon as I put forth my last question.

“What message do you have for the women out there?” I asked,

“Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there and be judged. Everyone has their own set of insecurities and daily battles they are fighting. So, the fear of being judged negatively shouldn’t stop you from going after what you want. Even if you fail, people will get bored of talking about you and move on eventually. But the regret that remains if you didn’t even give it a shot is probably the most expensive of them all.” She said. And that’s all I am going to leave here for you folks, to take with you from here!

PS: Checkout Mathangi Manikandan on Instagram, The Inside View on Facebook

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<![CDATA[Amazing Women Ep.5 - Sukanya Kaur - The Girl with a Taste]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-5-sukanya-kaur-the-girl-with-tastehttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-5-sukanya-kaur-the-girl-with-tasteMon, 28 Jan 2019 07:00:30 GMT

Food! Food has the power to unite to people from different walks of life together. Sharing a hot cup of Maggi noodles, cooked without the knowledge of the warden, solidifies the bond of hostel-mates. The aromatic elaichi tea from the shabby tea shop outside your elegant office building gives your interesting friends for a lifetime. The smile you give to a stranger when both of you pass by a small “bhai” biriyani shop inhaling the intense of aromatic spices and sighing, that forms a temporary bond of commonness and a reminiscence of all the sweet memories. All over the world people are uniting by the universal love for food. And that’s how a gang of us got together in a restaurant and made bonds that would last a lifetime, and that’s where I met Sukanya Kaur.

Ever met a woman, who stunned you for a minute, with nothing but a smile? That was Suki for me. From the perfectly arched eyebrows, the sculpted lips with a soft pink shade of lipstick and that intense eyes, she mesmerized me, captivated my attention. After that initial moment of speechlessness, she spoke. And I knew she was going to be a fantastic chapter in my life at that moment.  

Sukanya is an architect by passion and profession, a skilled Bharatanatyam dancer, an adventurous foodie and your girl-next-door kind of fashionista. She displays us examples of elegant yet affordable fashion in her personal Instagram handle and take our taste-buds to a gastronomical tour on her other Instagram handle, @girlwithataste. The interiors that she has designed in many famous restaurants shows her expertise in her field of profession and needlessly to say, she moves like a gentle breeze when she dances. Needless to say, she immediately went into my list of inspiring women. And I had to ask her all the questions, I’ve always wanted to ask, to learn more about her, to get inspired more. There were so many things to ask her, I started with the one thing that piqued my curiosity the most.

“Where did you find your calling, to be an architect?” I asked her,

“I hail from a family of ‘Vishwakarmas’ who are Acharis, sculptors and temple architects. In fact, the silver chariot in our Kapaleeshwar temple was made by my great grandfather. Even as a child I was always fascinated with temples and old buildings. I still have an eye for anything that is vintage. To be honest, I never thought of taking up Architecture although my father is an Architect. I was under the impression that it involved a lot of Mathematics. When it was time to get into college, it was by chance I learnt that a friend of mine was taking the NATA exams and I gave it a thought. It was then I decided that I would follow in my father’s footsteps. I strongly believe in DESTINY, and I believe that day changed my life, and there’s no turning back!”

When you hail from a family that loves and lives with such passion for their art and historical pride, you tend to be insightful and look at things more in-depth than the normal eye. You tend to cherish them as part of your history. Part of yourself. And the feeling is tenfold when you create something on your own. That applies to every creative field of work, including buildings and interiors.

“Wow, do you draw inspirations for the themes you create? What is the trick to satisfy your customers?” I shot out my next question

“When a client approaches me with details for a project, a preliminary outline forms in my mind. I love vintage and cozy spaces. But not all areas can be treated the same. I first put my ideas on paper, and if I am stuck somewhere, then I look up for inspirations online. It’s okay to get inspired by something, but one must never lose their individuality.  

Satisfying the clients is the most challenging part of the design process. Everyone has a different perspective and taste. Most of the times my clients propose ideas that would never go with the theme, and initially, I had great trouble adjusting to that. But over time, I have learned to accept that it’s their space and money and have found common ground.”

“True!” I nodded to myself. One of the most challenging and abstract areas in a design related profession is customer satisfaction. Each person’s perception differs, and a single floral motif could satisfy the end user more than the abstract concept that you created, investing hours and hours and displaying all of your skill and expertise. What Suki has is a quite a stressful job where the potential of her creativity, the commitment she has for deadlines and the extent of her patience is continuously challenged. I am in a similar field, and I know it could be exhausting because all I want to do at the end of the work is to curl up in my bed, not wake up till the next day.  

But this woman can have a tough call with a customer, then go to on a food walk with friends and dance it all off in the evening, all with a smile.

“An architect, a foodie, a fashionista, a dancer, where do you get your endless energy from? How do keep your fashion for so many things continuously recharged?” I asked her, quite amazed.

“The secret of my endless energy is definitely my FAMILY. My parents are extremely hard working and growing up, I have never seen them give up easily be it anything. My mother always made sure that I never wasted my time and would always keep me engaged in some activity or the other. While my friends would play after school, I was heading to dance, music, yoga and swimming classes. The routine continued through college. Till date, I am so used to multitasking that it comes to me naturally.

Although I play different roles in a day, the reason I keep going at it with so much passion is that I enjoy it thoroughly. Architecture never feels like work to me, I love creating something new. I have always been a foodie and food excites me. Dance defines me and makes me stand out. As for fashion, I love dressing up, and it so happens that people like my style.” She shrugged the last part of it elegantly.

I just don’t happen to like her style, I am completely head over heels in love with it. She has effortless style, and her choices are so simple yet elegant and sensible. “Where do you draw your inspirations from?” I questioned her

“My sense of fashion is simple; Wear what is comfortable and dress according to my body. I like dressing up in sober colours and prefer only silk and cotton. A kanchivaram silk saree is any day close to my heart than a designer piece. I feel sarees are a significant investment because they never go out of fashion and you can always keep making new blouses over the time. Just because something is in Vogue doesn’t mean it is going to look good on everyone. For example, I avoid wearing boat neck dresses or blouses, because I have broad shoulders and it’ll make me look broader.  

I don’t look for inspirations or try to take references from anyone’s looks. If something catches my eye, I buy it and put something together. Frankly speaking, I don’t find time to browse through a lot of fashion pages but would love to make time for it in the future.” She smiled.

I ‘ve got to say that I drool over her choice of sarees. They have such a vintage, classical touch to them. Just like her chosen form of dance. (Come on now, you folks know I was heading here). Sukanya is also an accomplished Bharatnatyam dancer, and recently she performed her thematic, solo dance presentation of “Rama Rasanubhavam,” which was a treat to the eyes.

“What does dance mean to you?” I asked her,

“It means the world to me. I have been learning Bharathanatyam under my guru Smt. Urmila Sathyanarayan for the past 18 years. I joined classes at the age of 10 and have developed a strong sense of discipline and time sense from my teacher. I think the guru plays an important role in moulding an artist and I feel fortunate to have a teacher like mine. I enjoy doing ‘Abinayam’ (facial expressions) and love to keep improvising on them whenever I get time. I only wish that I fix my injuries and get more time to practice and perform in the future.”

I could feel her passion and her zeal in every one of the answers she told, I could feel it touch and kick-start my heart like a bolt of electricity, and I knew I would carry this respect for her throughout my life. And all I had left me with was one last question.

“What message do you have for the women out there?” I asked

“Follow your heart. You are special in your own way, so don’t lose your confidence and let anyone or anything intimidate you. Hold your head up and march on!”

she said, painting a picture of her confident stance in my mind and I could nothing but grin with delight, taking pride in sharing the story of such an amazing to you folks!

PS: Checkout Sukanya Kaur (Girl with a taste) on Instagram for food and Sukanya Kaur for her fashion diary

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<![CDATA[Amazing Women Ep.4 - Kavipriya - The Unbridled Poetry]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-4-kavipriya-the-urbridled-poetryhttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-4-kavipriya-the-urbridled-poetryWed, 23 Jan 2019 05:21:18 GMT

We have always had that one poetry in our school times, that is classified as the most difficult to learn. The words confuse us, the alliterations don’t make any sense, the metaphors so meaningless; We read the read the poetry for the heck of it, purely for the marks it could score us in the examinations; but as we grow, we realize that it is the only poem that stuck.

Those lines that we struggled with are the ones that would relate life to us in all its glorious rawness. Somehow, all the words would make sense, all the alliterations would amaze us, all the metaphors absolutely mesmerize us. We realize, the poem has slowly grown on us, doing its part of moulding us into a better version.

For me, that poem is Kavipriya Moorthy.

Though we have never met in person, she paints a picturesque memory of defined curls, glowing skin and a misshaped tattoo (for all the joy, it’s shaped like a coffin, go ask her!) whenever I think of her. Also comes, the memory of the words she wields, the thoughts she pours and the poise and confidence that she carries herself with. She is a fervent traveller, commendable writer, spectacular speaker, erudite mentor and a no non-sense feminist.  

She has two books to her name, I don’t wear sunscreen and Dirty Martini; and countless more FB posts and poetry that explores different aspects of people and relationships.

“When did this journey towards writing start?” I asked her,

“There was a phase when my friends said, “do something to keep yourself busy and keep your mind off,” and warn that “an idle mind is the devil’s workshop,” - I had to pull myself, put together and do something. I tried baking, but my cupcakes were burnt. I did some crafts, but the icecream sticks wouldn’t stick together. I cooked, and it was just about edible. But, when I started writing - it gave me peace. Solitude. As much as I don’t want to romanticize “writing” - it’s the only thing that gave me what I wanted. Or rather, it was something I tried, and it felt “Ah! This is what I always wanted!”  I could pretty much envision the spark bulb going on above her head.

She is a fantastic author, and of course, I asked her about her books, since she is still trying to secretly bury “I don’t wear sunscreen” deep down the Kindle book list, we spoke about her favourite baby Dirty Martini. Every author has that one book that changes their course of life. For her DM was that book. “Dirty Martini has impacted and touched many people across the spectrum, how did it touch you? What changed in you when you wrote it?” I asked

“Everything changed when I did Dirty Martini. I’ve had times when I would finish a chapter and cry. “Dirty martini” is super raw and I just wanted it to hit people at their weakest. Ask them vulnerable questions. I’ve improved as a person. Even when I slightly judge someone, my insides would say “C’on author of DM, judging someone?”

Dirty Martini healed me from all the pain I contained. It was an answer to all the questions I ever had. DM is the end line of my past that affected my days” her words rung clear, and I had to smile. Seriously, the women give a lot of things to laugh about, her tattoo, her hashtags, and her very many quirks.

There is one such quirk of her that I admire the most. While many who just have a vague manuscript in mind call themselves, the woman takes pride in calling herself a poet; so much in fact that she’s built a unique, passionate business out of it. The concept behind “Poertarita” is to create customized poems for her customers, who open their hearts, seeking her help to convey the emotions that are bubbling into them, into soulful verses. Poems gifted this way are as personalized as it can get, and they are also sent in cute little packages, which makes the gesture more touching.

“How did this amazing idea come about?” I questioned

“So, I was traveling to Bangalore after a trip from Sakleshpur, and I was looking at a friend sitting right opposite who’s a photographer. She’s a friend of a friend. The one who connected us is a miniature artist. I kept thinking, “It’s amazing how people can turn passion to a profession, and wondered how writing is held tight under “art” umbrella that wouldn’t pay for your breakfast,”

It used to hurt me when I look at people who are great writers, but they don’t have the time to put their thoughts in black and white because they’re running to win bread. I wanted to tear that satin screen. I don’t want people to beat me with don’t ask money for art. I wanted to try, and I did. I wondered what’s to lose? Maybe, they’ll call me selfish. Maybe, they’ll ask how I could put a price tag on my art. But not something I’ve not heard before. I had nothing to lose when I started, but I’ve gained a lot now. A lot of happy tears. So much trust. Personal stories that one’s afraid to share. Being a confidant. I love Poetarita for what it has done and, it also pays for my lunch.”

Travel does give people a chance to self-explore and bring in the sense of freedom and often sows the seeds of inspiration and Kavipriya is ever the travel bug and take up a lot of lone travels as well, and that was my next question to her. “You are a nomad, taking up a lot of adventurous trips, are you not scared, do you face any challenges?” I asked her

“Frankly, traveling comes first. My writing feeds off from traveling. I’m an introvert, I am not quick to make friends, I wouldn’t even ask for directions, so traveling forces that out of me. It puts me on the hot seat. I experience anxiety, and I’ve even cancelled a few trips, but I think I’ve grown a lot. I learned people. It helps me to be non-judgmental. Have no opinions. To just go with the flow!”

I applauded after this. I just had to. Here is a woman who had suffered pain, downfalls and many failures but dared to get back up every time and so with unabashed spirit, seeking and infusing strength through her words and her very many travels. Here is a woman who never shied away from writing her heart, rising above the vile comments and disgusting insults that fill her inbox. Here is a Cactus flower, thriving among many thorns that surround her.  

“What message do you have for the women out there?” I ask her because I needed to hear it from this woman and take it to as many women I can.

“It is essential to understand the battles and pain that other women had to fight for where we are now. If you’re joining college at ease, remember many women struggled to complete their school and not get married. You’re privileged. Stand up for you even if others wouldn’t. Stand up for the women around you. Support and hold each other because none else will.

“It’s easy to hold a board that reads “equality,” but the battled that umpteen women went through so you can hold that board is so important.

Don’t judge, be there for others, pay it forward - if someone does something nice for you, it’s not necessary to return it to them. Give it to someone else and ask them to pay forward. Never let someone tell you what you can do just because you have a vagina. Never let your gender be a reason for any decision that you have to take!”

As she said this, I could see the firmness her eyes, the belief in her voice and the passion in her tone. She is raw, magnificent and sensational in all her glory – she is unbridled poetry!

PS: Kavipriya Moorthy on Facebook

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<![CDATA[Amazing Women Ep.3 - Divya - The Artist of Raw Dreams]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-3-divya-the-artist-of-raw-dreamshttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-3-divya-the-artist-of-raw-dreamsTue, 22 Jan 2019 04:00:00 GMT

Not all of us like the idea of marriage, but almost all the women at one point or other in our lives have thought about our wedding. We have dreamed about it, orchestrated with absolute perfection. The décor, the flowers, the sangeet, mehandhi, the jewelry, the clothes and of course the makeup. The groom is usually a blur in those dreams as we don’t really bother.

Like a wise, old man married man said, “while marriage is about the two people who are getting married, the wedding is always about the bride(s). And when my turn to be a bride came, I was just wrecked package of anxiety, not knowing what to wear, how to prep my skin, where to scout for rented jewelry, pretty much nothing. The only thing I did know was that I should book a make-up artist quite early or the good ones would be gone. I turned to my good friend Sukanya, and she just whispered a name, one name – Divyalakshmi.

I booked her for my wedding and left her hanging without any details. And I went running back to her, two weeks before the wedding, desperately asking her what to do. She took up the mantle from me then, planning my bridal things one thing at a time. We designed my bridal attire over long Whatsapp chats and Pinterest boards, and I had my things sorted within a week. She was more than a makeup artist, she had become my beloved bridesmaid.

And, five days before my wedding, I went to her for my trial makeup and that’s when I first saw in person, and I knew then and there, this woman was going to an integral part of my journey for the rest of my life.

In her yet-to-be furnished apartment, with a lone dressing table, she spoke to me with such infecting enthusiasm, that it immediately calmed and relaxed me. She talked about her own wedding that was just a couple of months away, her thoughts about doing her own make-up (this stunned me) all the while, molding my face into something ethereal. When she finally finished, I looked at the mirror wholly prepared to see the most comical version of myself ever, but what I saw was a woman in her prime element, the utmost of her grace and beauty, a timeless version of her beauty that was going to be etched in her memory forever, an ethereal woman – a bride. And that moment, I knew my big day was going to be perfect.

Thinking back about it, I remember being intimated about the sheer number of brushed she had. “How did this start?” I asked her because I knew that’s where I should start. “I believe every woman has it in their genes. They realize and get into it when they start getting compliments/recognition. I was in school, and we bid bye to the uniforms during Fridays. We were so hesitant to repeat our outfits. So I do mix and match, cut and mend to turn the used one to fresh one. Friends/teachers started complimenting, and it continued!” she shrugged in that elegant, modest way.

I smiled, this was how she had been all through my bridal sessions with her. It is quite a delicate job as you don’t just work with the body of the woman, you work with the heart, and all the emotions, running through it. You’re practically giving the face to her dream. “how do you manage such a responsible, high-risk job?

“It’s every girl’s dream to look at their best on their big day. Again, going back to my childhood, I used to keep all my cousins and sisters in line and doll them up. After seeing so many known people(cousins, friends) getting disappointed on their big day due to the makeover that wasn’t delivered as promised or charging a bomb for a good makeover, I don’t want to let this happen for my sisters or me at least. So, I learned, practiced and now I have 40 happy brides and the happiest bride-me! Yeah, I did my own. My only motto, satisfied service with less hit on the pockets. Money doesn’t make me more than the happy brides

I had to agree what she said comes from the heart, because I was one of her happy brides. And I am still amazed by the way she handled all the craziness, my mom’s yelling and several other hasty, blurry sights that are so typical of a wedding. I can understand how had it would be to handle such tight-scheduled situations where the tension is running high, and the bride is at her most vulnerable time, does it ever make you nervous? How do you manage to overcome it ?” I asked. “Smile. Yeah, Just a smile. That covers my nervous face, and if it’s going out of control, I imagine myself  as the bride, which give me loads of confidence to make them look super good.”

This line of work has the craziest of timings. I remember her coming in 2:30 AM in the morning to my muhurtham makeup to my place and then swinging by the temple where my wedding was taking place to give me a second costume change, calmly waiting for me from 4:00 PM at my reception venue and then rushing back to her full-time  job around 7:30 PM after my make-up session,

“Phew! how do you manage it to do it all?”

“I have an excellent support system from my family. My mom, sisters, dad and my Man. They always make sure that there is at least one with me or at least they will be dropping me in the location if they can’t make it. It used to be really difficult to manage before my wedding. As I had to travel alone in the early morning around 2 AM. I go by cabs and of course, would be scared to death. I will be making some conversation(asking about his kids, family, business) with the driver just to keep it sane. Until I reach the destination, my pulse would be out of control. Everything will have vanished when I see that satisfied smile on my bride’s face. What more would I ask for?”  she smiled.

What more indeed? I mused and then asked her much the same. “What do you think lies ahead?”

“To be short: LOVE AND LIFE, she laughed. “As much as I love reading books/articles/blogs, I love speaking too. So, 2019 has given me a path to venture into travel vlogs. It should be up on YouTube soon!” Designing and wearing my own sketches for my wedding and doing my bridal makeup myself had given me such sense of satisfaction and happiness, I am hoping to expand on that idea to give a customized experience to all my brides. Keeping my fingers crossed ” she said and crossed her fingers, I crossed mine too, wishing her all the luck! “What message do you have for the women out there?” I asked my signature final question.

“DON’T underestimate yourself. You are more capable than what u think. U have the power to bring a human to this amazing world. So, Just give a try, you would be surprised by its results. Trust me on that!”

she smiled.

“I do!” I smiled back.

PS: Divya’s Instagram Handle: Divya MUA on Instagram

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<![CDATA[Amazing Women Ep.2 - Vidhya - A Little Piece of Happiness]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-2-a-little-piece-of-happinesshttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-2-a-little-piece-of-happinessSun, 13 Jan 2019 05:00:00 GMT

You take a long leisure walk on a cloudy evening, not quite cold, but there’s definitely a chill in the wind. You slow down to absorb all the lush greenery around you and stand mesmerised looking at the endless vastness of the big blue sky…

And then light, cool breeze touches you! It’s just a whiff, that leaves you fulfilled, elated even; and you walk ahead with a small spring in your step humming a random, happy tune! Turn that lovely breeze into a person, and that’s who Vidhya is!

We met through a common group of friends and a deep love for food. Known as #thehungryzombie popularly, her passion for food is love at its best. She is an all-around natural person, easy to laugh with, easy to talk to, easy to share food with, but wrong, are the people who judge her as the easy to go, girl!

Behind that effortless grace and easy smile is a grit of iron and tenacity of a fresh grass overtaking the storm, and that’s why ”Tulua” her accessories brand is able to make a unique mark and stand out amongst the zillions of Instagram Accessories sale brands. She sources unique, handcrafted jewellery from across India, and brings it down to the women, who love a healthy dollop of bling in their day-to-day life. I’ve been a happy customer of her since day 1 (literally, I think) and I can only smile with pride looking at how she and her brand had grown steadily over the past months. I couldn’t help but ask her, “How?”, “How did this all start?”

And ever the open-book girl quite surprised me with her answer.

“Actually, I used to have a home business since 2011, it was called Spark. Eventually, I got busy and couldn’t do it. Then in 2016, I briefly worked on it again where made custom books which eventually died down too. But in Feb 2018, I did it on a small scale. But in July, my dad gave me the much-needed monetary push, and I could really stock up products, there was a little risk involved, but you cannot do business without taking any risk!”

This was her third time, I couldn’t imagine, recovering from the first blow, but here she is standing firm in her third try, deftly learning from her previous businesses and moving on and moving big. Didn’t I say tenacity? She firmly believes in standing tall and rising, believe it enough to have her brand’s tag line as “Raising above Stereotypes!” Coming, to think of it, the name ”Tulua” in itself is quite unique and catchy. “How did you come up with that and why this particular line of business, knowing about the heavy competition?” I asked her.

“Yeah, I was very sure my brand will be called something with “rise.” I could relate it with myself more than anything. I’m so tired of society telling you’re dark, don’t wear that… your face is small, this that. Fancy earrings are coming in, and a lot of women absolutely love them. But I see them always thinking twice before buying, what will others tell and all that mind voices howling loads and loads of questions. They’re still in the wear-everything-gold era, even though they don’t want to be!” I sighed my agreement to that statement. I love big dangling hoops and everything stone, but now that I am married, I must wear gold, insisted by older women of the family, that it would make me look like, well… married! Thanks to zomb, I still relevant to that fantastic part of fashion and occasionally indulge myself in buying a couple of earrings from the exquisite collection she displays! How does she finds such beautiful pieces at such varying price range, Is that the whole idea behind Tulua? I asked her and I could almost see her dashing smile (we were conversing over WhatsApp, I can only imagine, she smiled)

“Hell, yes!” She agreed (and she did confirm she smiled). My idea is only to bring the best from all over India under one brand. I always work towards getting something for everyone and in every range. And I’ve just been lucky that people like what Tulua has to offer.  

I’ve just started collaborating with designers, and hopefully, someday I could design a line. That’s the dream!”

And that’s the dream as a customer too! To find everything you need at one place and at a price your purse loves. And Vidhya is ever the Princess Perfect when it comes to customer satisfaction. I remember the first ever time I received kemp necklace set from her! It was the initial days of Tulua; Unfortunately, I had the thread knot of the necklace had cut-off somehow during the courier travel. It was a minor mishap, one that I could quickly fix, so I had sent her a suggestion of giving an extra set of thread in her deliveries in case of such mishaps. I remember her apologising profusely, and the next day, I received a courier with a thread package. Honestly, the packaging and the courier costs more than the thread, but it did leave me with a strong sense of satisfaction and utter trust. “I am still amazed by that gesture,” I told her, “what is your mantra for such amazing standards of customer satisfaction?” I asked.

“I take customer service very seriously! The customer is king, and I think that’s the rule every business should live by. Sometimes, I just put myself in their place to deal with certain situations, and it’s worked great until now” came a simple yet fantastic answer.

At this point, I am quite glad that I am doing this series. Just the second interview and I am amazed, awe-struck, humbled and so damn proud all-at-once. “What message do you have for the women out there?” (And yeah, this would always be my last question)

“If you have a dream, start already. The world is very competitive, so if you have an idea put it to act before someone else does. And don’t be let down if others are copying you, that only means you’re doing something right”, She pinged back.

“That’s quite a positive perspective!” I thought to myself as I walked to my balcony to have a glimpse that the unusually cloudy sky, all the while thinking about this enthralling woman and her amazing answers, and just then, a whiff of cool breeze brushed past me ever so lightly… and I smiled.

PS: Checkout Tulua in Instagram: Tulua

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<![CDATA[Amazing Women Ep.1 - Charanya - All Hats in One]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-1-charanya-all-hats-in-onehttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-1-charanya-all-hats-in-oneSun, 06 Jan 2019 18:51:39 GMT

School life is a fantastic part of your journey; you learn arithmetic that you never use, learn the physical exercises that you never carry forward, build lasting memories that you never forget, make amazing friends whom you would never let go.

Whenever I look at my DAV girls Whatsapp group, the list of names would always flash the memories of the group of us in Striped Salwars with white dupattas, double braids that we style to with different hair clips, goofy smiles when our crushes pass by. While I still struggle to find my footing in life, slowly but surely searching my soul to find my calling; I realize, some of these girls have transformed elegantly into magnificent women, handling the responsibilities of home, work, and life in general, with a clear head and a kind heart. They don different hats that life offers them- daughter, wife, mother, employee, artist, entrepreneur; and precious few of them takes that extra mile to wear it all, at once. One such remarkable woman in Charanya Rangarajan.

Charan, as we call her, is a doting mother for her kutti Rithwi, a loving wife, a caring daughter, a protective sister, a devoted employee, and an inspiring entrepreneur who does all of it to perfection. I remember seeing her shy FB posts back in 2014, where she started putting up salwar materials and other assorted accessories for sale; From there it’s no turning back. I have been amazed by the quality of the products she delivers and the fantastic, loyal customer following she has. “That is the beauty of having a home business. Your constant encouragement comes from your customers” she said when I asked her about it.

She runs Sparklerz, a small venture through which she sells clothing materials exclusively for women and Elixir Organics where she sells an array of home-made, chemical free skin care products.

When I asked her how Sparklerz started, she said with a small smile, “Sparklerz was started in the year 2014. Initially, I started it to save some pocket money for my daily expenses, but gradually It turned out to be a passionate hobby. At the start, I was selling only to friends and relatives, slowly the word spread and now I have a bunch of amazing customers turned friends who turn to me for their apparel/jewelry shopping!”

“It does always start small, doesn’t it?” I mused, “I see that you put up an astounding line of products in Elixir Organics, how did that idea come about, what is your vision for it?” I asked, my interest piqued.

“Elixir is my recent venture about homemade skincare products which are 100% homemade, chemical free and preservative free. I started elixir with a goal in achieving clean and healthy skin using eco-friendly products. Nowadays, even the food we eat contains a lot of chemicals, we cannot control that. But at least we can control what we feed our skin. Our skin goes through a lot from morning to night, it deserves the best pampering which is through natural way. My vision for elixir is putting out natural and eco-friendly products on stage that helps everyone achieve clean and healthy skin without burning a hole in their pocket. At the end of the day, skin care products should help the skin breath, not suffocate it more with harmful chemicals and preservatives. Our next goal is to extend our collection to kids friendly products!” she said, oozing confidence and determination. This woman no longer looked like the Charan from I school I remembered, she had somewhere turned into a formidable force that I was beginning to admire. But how can one do so much? Especially when she has a child that’s not even a year old? And, that was the question I blurted out next.

“All credit goes to my family who supported me and stood with me through all thick and thins. I have been working in corporate for more than 5 years, and a mom for a year. Frankly, I am able to juggle between the responsibilities due to support from my family who help me manage my time. I work in a full-time job due to financial commitment but being a mom and entrepreneur has become my passion, they are like my lifelines without which I cannot get by. Entrepreneurship is like my escape from reality which keeps me sane in this fast-moving world. There is no dull day in my life as these three balances it equally.”

“It’s quite a blessing to have an amazing family that supports you no matter what” I agreed. Though it’s an absolute advantage, the fire and passion all come from within. Where does the woman get all her courage? Damn! I could never lift a dead cockroach with a broom for the fear that it would come alive by some horrid miracle. “Weren’t you scared about any of it?” I asked, “I would lose my mind and all my sleep, bothering about the things that could go wrong!” I said.

“The most critical part in a startup is earning the trust of people, through which we can expand our customer base and gain some repetitive and permanent trust. Still many out there hesitate to shop products online, as they find it hard to trust an unknown person with their hard-earned money. It takes a lot of patience and hard work. But once the trust is earned, there is no turning back, that is the biggest victory. Pocket-friendly prices and earning the trust of people will help any small-scale venture become a huge success!” her voice ringed with absolute conviction. When a woman has a firm idea, a clear goal, the courage to take a sure step forward, with all her innate compassion and empathy intact, she becomes a role model. And, I took it as my imperative duty to share the message this treasure of a woman wanted to share to the womenfolk around her, “What is the message you want to share with the women out there?” I asked.

My only message for women is,

Be independent and believe in yourself especially even after getting married. There is nothing a woman cannot do these days. Try to be an inspiration for the ones close to you. Being independent has a lot of perks, it gives undeterred confidence to cross all hurdles in life

she beamed.

I could only nod my head in wonder, hoping that I could do a decent job in presenting her story to my small world. I did what I can, leaving you guys to be the judge of it!

PS: Check out sparklerz14 & elixirorganics16 on Instagram

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<![CDATA[Because, Shame!]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/because-shamehttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/because-shameThu, 19 Jul 2018 20:02:22 GMT

What makes her pretend that she likes the uncle who insists that she sits on his lap while he tries to cup her delicate back surreptitiously? Why does she nod her head meekly when he says, “I’ll come home tomorrow!” and later curls herself into a protective ball, willing with all her heart to be invisible?

What makes her cross the road in wild abandon- with her bowed down;

Pretending deaf to the catcalls, wolf-whistles and the leery comments, that keeps ringing in her ears even after they’re long gone?

What makes her walk that extra mile in a circuitous route pretending to friends that it is her only workout, all the while watching out for that faceless face she wanted to avoid, all the while skittering like a frightened rabbit.

What makes her squeeze close to the ladies seat and stand even in a sparsely crowded bus, inching away discreetly to not show by her face or actions the acute violation that her body felt at being groped continuously and rubbed against.

What makes her hide the brutal bite marks with a high back blouse, stifle her wince while she splashes cold water on her womanhood and defeated pride, begging them to forget the hurtful violation of her husband’s inflated ego and erection.

What makes her delicately draw down the little gown of her infant girl, trying to protect the innocence and dignity; while her recurring nightmares strips her baby’s clothes, hope and dreams over and over;

What silences her palpable anger, her raw pain?

What suffocates her ability to breath freedom and break free?

What muffles her loud screams and her passionate dreams?

Is it the pertinent question “What would people think?”

Is it the thought that’s seeded in her mind - “This would ruin your life!“?

Is it that one feeling that’s fed over and over to her by the many generations and layers of a cruel society?

Is it the manmade feeling call Shame?

She never screams, fights, retaliates, hopes, dreams, or dares…

Because, Shame!

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<![CDATA[The Other Side]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/the-other-sidehttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/the-other-sideWed, 19 Apr 2017 18:43:11 GMT

They told me about the rosy things that I had to feel,

they said it’ll be a joyful event, a moment of completeness

and the soothing medicine for my pains to heal.

And they left me at that, alone, to fend for myself.

I was scared to hold your wobbly head, and held you gingerly like a piece of glass,

mentally cursing my MBA professors, for not teaching this in class.

And came those long sleepless nights, when you decided to play,

and your father decided to snore away.

For a person who turned down jobs with a night shift,

my dear son, this thing felt like a nasty whiff.

The permutation and combination of diapers I changed while it was dripping,

it smelt bad, and who am I kidding!

The hours I spent in the bathroom, almost giving up, crying till my eyes turned red,

those days my dear son, I yearned and ached and craved, for a good cup of tea and breakfast in my bed…

So what made me grit my teeth and walked through it all?

I am not sure but am betting it’s the smile you smiled every time you played with the red sponge ball.

Or the thrill that ran through my spine the first time you said “mama!”

Anyways I learnt, it’s a phase of my life, where you were the King of my drama.

But, Oh! My dear son, don’t get so cute, I still have my revenge planned for you

Guess who’s got the weekend diaper duty for your baby sister?

Haha, the joke’s on you!

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<![CDATA[Just women]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/just-womenhttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/just-womenTue, 28 Mar 2017 07:16:11 GMT

Ages and ages on, men have called women “the bright moon”, “a glittering star”, and “a fluttering angel”;

And pretty much everything celestial, ethereal and probably unreal.

But just like you, oh! men, we live and breath, we are just women;

As much blood, as much lust, and just as much human.

We are called the weaker sex, isn’t that a gorgeous misconception ?

If you claim to be physically strong, then why did the nature make us carry, and let you stop with impregnation?

You term your ships, your cars and continents a “she”, Is it to pay us your respect?

If yes, then why can’t you let us sail it or drive it or rule it, why oh, why do you suspect?

Is it possible to understand the fact, that we - the women, also lust ?

That we can be loud, dirty, and wild - and even for us, the F word is a must ?

Then, why do we have to be violated, raped, acid attacked- like lab rats, when we firmly say a No ?

We are still out there fighting on the roads and begging for our rights to live, and our right to say “Yes, so?”

We can wear spacesuits and coat suits and tracksuits and swimsuits all with equal grace,

Yet we are killed even before we’re born and never valued more than just a pretty face;

Depression, oppression, aggression, criticism, cynicism we face them all as much as you do,

Just don’t think, it stops there, we have the postpartum too.

We know it’s difficult to wrap your head around this, but it’s really a simple thing we ask you to do;

Stop objectifying, mummifying and angelizing us, we’re sick of it all; Just equalize us to all of you, that - just that would do…

For we are just women;

As much blood, as much lust, and just as much human.

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<![CDATA[From the Ashes, With Fear]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/from-the-ashes-with-fearhttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/from-the-ashes-with-fearSun, 12 Feb 2017 18:33:14 GMT

It was hot. It was hotter than the milk my mommy gave me every evening. My big brother used to play matchstick game, and my mother scolded saying the fire was dangerous, it’ll burn the skin. So, why did this uncle not know it? He poured petrol on me and lighted a match stick. I remembered my father scolding saying it was dangerous. The uncle threw the hot stick on me. The fire started spreading all over my dress. My favourite pink gown was slowly becoming black. I started crying. I wanted to tell the uncle to stop, but I couldn’t speak. He had gagged mouth and tied my hands and legs. I couldn’t move. The fire started running all over me. It touched my skin, and I winced. I looked at the uncle with pleading eyes; he just saw me for a moment and ran away. I closed my eyes as the unbearable pain started building in my body, the girl parts the uncle touched were already in bad pain, but this was too much. My mommy’s beatings were never this painful. I wanted to tell my mommy that I would be a good girl. I wanted my daddy to come take me out from the fire. A foul smell started filling my nose. I couldn’t bear it. I closed my eyes shut.

Suddenly it felt good. I felt like I was floating around. I could still see the fire, but I could see other images. I could see my mommy packing lunch for me, I could see daddy searching for his socks, and I could see my brother hiding daddy’s socks. Mommy can always find where my brother hides the socks. I could see my birthday celebrations in the big hotel and the blue Barbie my friend Rithika gifted me. I was playing with that evening. Suddenly the evening came to my view. I watched it all happen right in front of me once more.

I was playing with my Barbie in the portico, wearing my favourite pink gown. My mommy was making my sandwich in the kitchen. I saw a shadow and looked up. It was the uncle on the third floor. He was a friendly uncle who sometimes moved like he was dancing. He smelt terrible. He smiled at me, and I smiled back.

“Want to play with me?” he asked after looking at me for a long time.

“No Uncle! I’ll play all by myself” I said to him smiling

“Come on, kid! Let’s play!” he leered.

I panicked and opened my mouth to call my mommy. He jumped on me suddenly closed my mouth with his one hand and carried me with the other. He ran up the staircase, unlocked his door, threw me on the floor and closed the door behind him. He scooped me up again, and I screamed. He closed my mouth with his hand and pinched me hard. He carried me to the other room and took a smelly handkerchief from his pant pocket. He thrust it in my mouth. I tried to spit it out, but he threw me on the bed and quickly tied a cloth around my mouth. I tried to control my tears as my breathing became suffocated. He pulled my wrists together and tied it close with a rope. He did the same with my ankles. I was petrified; I couldn’t move.

For two hours, the man paced to and fro while I watched him with fear. Downstairs I could hear my mommy and daddy shouting out my name. I wanted to call back to my mommy asking her to come up, but I couldn’t do it. He hurried his pace. I could hear my brother and Sarala Aunty shout my name. After some time somebody knocked at the door. The uncle threw a blanket on me and went to answer the door. I could hear Sarala Aunty talking to him, asking about me, I slid a little and reached the corner of the bed, but the uncle shut the door and came back in.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a scary tone.

“I raised my pinky finger and showed him” my eyes pleading. The uncle was so scary that I wanted to pee.

“Come!” he carried me to the bathroom and put me on the toilet seat. I looked down at my tied up hands and looked back at him.

“Oh, what the fuck” he muttered and reached up throw my skirt. I panicked and started struggling. He was going to touch my girl part. It was a bad touch. I shook my head vigorously. He smiled then. He smiled a cruel that was scarier than the other things that he had done. I cried as he carried me back to the bed. He lifted me into a sitting position and removed my gown. He tore my teddy bear panties and stared at me.

“Oh, my!” he smacked his lips and smiled.

He pushed me down and bit me hard everywhere he could reach. He touched and tasted all the places my mommy had said as wrong in the “bad touch” game. Finally, he removed his clothes and cut down the rope that bound my ankles. I tried to kick him down, but he slapped me hard across my face. I broke down with fear. But the pain across my face was numbed by the terrible pain that suddenly spiked up in my girl part and my stomach. I could see the uncle doing something, and the pain kept coming every time he came closer, suddenly he went down and started putting his mouth in my girl part, I fought hard not to pee as my mother had said not pee on the bed and it was bad manners. But I couldn’t stop myself as the uncle kept licking there. I kicked my legs as the salty pale liquid started flowing and the uncle once again moved up and kept pushing. The pain started building to agony, and soon everything blacked out.

I woke up wishing it was all a nightmare, but the pain between my legs told me a different. The bed was wet and smelly with urine, blood. My body had something white and sticky like glue all over me. I wanted to throw up. The uncle was dressed up, and he looked at me with shock when I woke up.

“So, you’re not dead!” he murmured as he came near me. He smelt awful.

I kicked him with my leg, and the action made him furious. He grabbed my neck and started squeezing hard. I struggled for my breath trying to move my hands. He tightened his grip, and suddenly everything became dark.

I saw it all as I floated about, but I didn’t feel a thing. I saw that my body was completely burnt and lay there as a terrible mess. I felt wise; maybe it was a thing. I could see the stars clearly, and an angel with white wings that looked like my mommy opened her hands wide open to receive me.

“It is like going to bed” she whispered gently.

“I am supposed to pray before I go to bed”, I smiled back

“Yes, dear!”, she smiled kindly. “Say your prayers!”

“Dear God!” I whispered “Please don’t let this happen to any of the girls,” I said, “Or any of the boys!” I finished and walked on.

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<![CDATA[The Day of Dim Dim]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/day-dim-dimhttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/day-dim-dimThu, 19 Jan 2017 17:58:09 GMT

Velachery is an astounding amalgamation of people, culture, mosquitoes and concrete. Ten years ago we prided ourselves with the extraordinary amounts of trees and deer that inhabited the Checkpost area, today we boast about the marble marvel called Phoenix Market City, sipping a cuppa from the Starbucks. One such prominent chrome and glass structures that dominate the Velachery area is the ”Saravana Stores” building (formerly a nameless, forgotten data centre that housed some poor IT folks)

Saravana Stores is your go-to place when you have:

  1. A mid-month bra crisis

  2. Your mother’s shopaholic alibi rears her head up with a vengeance

  3. A dreary day and desperately in need some entertainment

  4. All the above

I chose option 4.

The shop is everything you imagine it to be. From the vendors who milk your money with flashy pink teddy bear balloons to the cheap tasting popcorns.

I walked past the golden fake archway that threatens to fall any time on you, the unsmiling woman with a faded white silk saree, the humongous crowd, the malfunctioning ACs that work surprisingly well only near the doors fascinated by the sheer amount of people.

I dragged my fascinated mum through the crowd and paved my way towards the elevator. After ten futile minutes waiting for the elevator, we huffed and puffed through the stairs to reach the fifth floor. Ah! Our lingerie destination! Now, finding a decent bra in the huge silver trays among fellow female folks is a skill and right up my mother’s alley. She launched herself into the search with frenzy and came out with an array of black, blue, fluorescent, pale pink and God-knows-what colour bras. I chose the black one and resolutely shook my head in negative to the rest. As she went back to rummaging the bra tubs, I turned towards the panties tub, and my world tilted.

I howled with laughter. I howled like a lunatic werewolf on a full moon day. I never knew that women could wear panties of such variety, whether it was to humour the men who get to see it or to arouse them I would never know. There were Mauves, Opalines, Cerulean, Crimsons and Canaries. There were laces, patterns, zig-zags and lions. I caught the eyes of one of the sales girl, and she started giggling along with me, It passed on to the kind looking lady nearby her, the stern looking aunty adjacent to her and together we rummaged the whole tub for thirty long minutes- laughing, smirking and of course, buying. It was a mind-boggling community event.

What am I trying to say by all this? I don’t know. Just take your mum to Saravana Stores

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<![CDATA[Definitions, Dimensions, and Nothings]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/definitions-dimensions-nothingshttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/definitions-dimensions-nothingsSun, 27 Nov 2016 14:39:22 GMT

I would say it started at nothing. But then, everything does, doesn’t it? And one fine winter morning you gather up all your nothings and your coffee; you sit sipping your cuppa and think about all your nothings…

When you realize it is everything.

My blog was a fun experiment that started way back in December 2011. LN gifted “merila.gln.me” to me five years ago. It was brand new, wonderful and absolutely ready to rock. Three posts in rapid fire mode and Bam! It was forgotten. Remember that little keyboard that was gifted to you when you were five years old? For the first six months, you ate with it, slept with it, played it all the time and so well that your mom boasted that you were going to be the next A. R.Rahman. Soon, other toys came up, other interests dragged you away and your little keyboard was left to gather dust on the loft. After few years you would have seen some dramas in life; out of boredom, curiosity, regret and almost nothing else to do, you go back and clean your house. And that’s when you would go back to your loft. You would see that little keyboard, dusty from years of negligence yet surreal, pure and untouched. All the happy memories would come back rushing and you would hear yourself chuckle with a happy tear in your eyes when you touch one of those little keys that make the same sweet sound that you so loved. It becomes a memoir, a token of happy times, a four-leaved clover that you would hold for luck and love.

That keyboard is my blog.

I dusted it and brought it back to life in 2014. When all else was bleak, that was my ray of sunshine. An idea would spark when I take bath and I hold it close in my thoughts till wee hours of the night when I could let it flow free. They were the little mirrors that reflected the many shades of the society. Those dreadful nights when I desperately updated resume and wrote sample articles for interviews, an empty white MS Word document was my only point of recess. I created stories that I felt were nothings. I started every story I wrote with a chant “Here goes nothing”. I created those nothings without realizing that they were creating me, molding the lump of clay that was me into something more profound, real and something very much… ME. I realized it was time to make it my name, my identity, a definition of who I am. Towards the end of 2014 “merila.gln.me” became Krupawrites.com from that I guess there’s no stopping. We’ve enjoyed occasional breaks, little mishaps, and month long fights but she’s the sleek beauty who keeps me running. She is the symphony I strung together by my many little nothings.

This little article is a dedication to Lakshmi Narayanan; because you should ever be thankful for that person who gave you your little keyboard that paved way for your symphonies; also because I owe him his own Island and collection of cars and this is a tiny bribe to make him go a little easy on me. Dude! I’ll get there please bear with me.

Until my next post, Ciao!

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<![CDATA[The Curse of Vellachery]]>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/the-curse-of-vellacheryhttps://www.krupawrites.com/p/the-curse-of-vellacherySun, 22 May 2016 16:51:58 GMT

This probably looks like a picture of badly maintained roads on a rainy day. On the contrary, this is the picture of my locality in Velachery taken around 5.30 pm today evening. With the weather forecasting long sunny days ahead, what’s with the roads here flooded fresh with water?

This is not the water from up above, this is the water from down below. Nothing has changed since December’s flood in Velachery. When all other places where filled with rainwater, my area was submerged with sewage water that started bubbling out as soon as the first batch of rains hit the ground. This is the story ever since. Our sewages start overflowing whenever it feels under the weather. The sewage system is blocked for over ten days now. Complaint has been lodged, but no action so far from the officials concerned. Bathrooms are flooded, and to prevent further damage nearby apartments pump out the excess water on a daily basis onto the roads. That is the scene you see in the picture above. The dirty water pumped out, floods the roads without any proper channel for release. People walk on these roads on a daily basis, and our doctors are super busy with the increasing number of skin infections and fever cases.

This picture is the backyard of my house. The backyard gets flooded every time one takes a bath. This is the case every single household in my locality. Velachery has become a big name for so many different things. We have big shopping complexes and new landmarks coming up every day. But this the true face of this low lying area in all its gory detail. There is a swearing in ceremony happening with all the grandeur tomorrow for the government that ruled last week to go to work this week. Instead of spending big bucks on unnecessary luxuries, it would be loads better if they could mend basic amenities that people require. This is Velachery, one of the busiest and well-developed hubs of Chennai. I cannot imagine the plight of other developing areas. This is not an attention-seeking ramble of a single person, but the silent cry of a community. We just hope it is heard.

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<![CDATA[ Purple, Curls, and Sunshine Smile ]]>
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<![CDATA[ There are some distinct memories you associate with some people in your life. ]]>
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<pubDate>Mon, 13 Jun 2022 06:45:56 GMT</pubDate>
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<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fcb7552a9-f52a-42d2-ad85-fcb4b5b4d6fc_509x508.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fcb7552a9-f52a-42d2-ad85-fcb4b5b4d6fc_509x508.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fcb7552a9-f52a-42d2-ad85-fcb4b5b4d6fc_509x508.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fcb7552a9-f52a-42d2-ad85-fcb4b5b4d6fc_509x508.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fcb7552a9-f52a-42d2-ad85-fcb4b5b4d6fc_509x508.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fcb7552a9-f52a-42d2-ad85-fcb4b5b4d6fc_509x508.jpeg" width="509" height="508" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/cb7552a9-f52a-42d2-ad85-fcb4b5b4d6fc_509x508.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:508,&quot;width&quot;:509,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:48139,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fcb7552a9-f52a-42d2-ad85-fcb4b5b4d6fc_509x508.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fcb7552a9-f52a-42d2-ad85-fcb4b5b4d6fc_509x508.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fcb7552a9-f52a-42d2-ad85-fcb4b5b4d6fc_509x508.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fcb7552a9-f52a-42d2-ad85-fcb4b5b4d6fc_509x508.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>There are some distinct memories you associate with some people in your life. I associate my Raji Periamma with summer vacations.</p><p>My childhood memories brim with them. It&#8217;s a yearly ritual to stay ten days in my Periamma&#8217;s home in Sriperumbudur, right around the time of the world-famous Ramanujar temple annual festival. The otherwise quiet and quaint town brims with life during these ten days. The cement roads filled with bright white kolams, hundreds of bhajan groups dancing in tune to their mridangam (instrument)and jing-juks and proceeding to the grand temple, the mouth-watering aroma wafting from every home and Chathrams (rest houses) around.</p><p>You could walk into any random house, and you&#8217;re guaranteed to return with your tummy filled with a fantastic feast. We would get squeezed into the crowds during these festivals but still maintain the deathly grip of my mom&#8217;s hands through it all. I especially enjoyed the Gandhapodi Urchavam on the last day, where people throw the powder on the deity and themselves. The deity being swung by the palanquin bearers does a jubilant dance, and watching it amidst the dim yellow, powdery fog while standing in the haven of the Soda shop run by one of Periamma&#8217;s friends is a mesmerizing memory I&#8217;ll cherish forever.</p><p>But what I loved the most about all these visits was the joy and the celebration but the peaceful hush that came after it. Looking back, I realize the calmer moments shine brighter. The petticoats stitched by the deaf old man and how my Periamma used to talk to him with exaggerated hand moments. We got the rose milk from two houses down, and how our Periamma took us to their home with a big lotta (a traditional pitcher) to get our fill. I remember taking a local bus and going to Gokul Dham and how our Periamma gave me the bangles and earrings that belonged to my sister to wear for those outings. The memories of drawing water from the well in the house and Periamma watching over us with a smile. Being afraid of going to the bathroom that&#8217;s outside the house and Periamma waiting with sleepy eyes till we finish our business; looking through the windows while monkeys pranced about creating havoc and Periamma chiding them; The crystal clear sounds of everybody around calling my Periamma &#8220;Bankaramma&#8221; (colloquial term &#8211; means wife of the banker), and she responded with a smile and a nod.</p><p>These memories make a kaleidoscope with my Periamma at its epicenter, like a shining bright Purple gemstone through the many blurs of color.<br>I keep forcing myself to remember all these and only these as I try to drown the thoughts about how she died. Yes, we lost her, and it&#8217;s been a month.</p><p>A month since an unfillable void was created in our lives. We lost her to a tragic accident. A grotesque horror one at that. It was a hit-and-run by a drunk driver right in front of her house, where she had lived and breathed for years. There&#8217;s a surge of useless, helpless anger every time I think about it, and believe me, I think about it every damn day. It&#8217;s been a month, and the pain is still raw. Fate is the most, especially when it takes away peaceful and genteel souls gruesomely. But do I blame fate for this? Or the man who was arrogant enough to do this because he had powerful connections? What can I do besides sit and fume with tears running down, juxtaposing the horrible event and happy memories? We could talk in length about complaints and legal actions, but the truth is- seeing the person who you loved dearly, who had smiled and laughed with you just that morning, lying down lifeless in the icebox with a face that&#8217;s beyond recognition; It just takes the fight out of you. You are left back as a grieving bundle of mess who keeps questioning the pointlessness of everything. Your anxiety and depression that you&#8217;ve been brushing under the carpet kick back in, and you have an existential crisis.</p><p>After going through all of it, I&#8217;m seeking solace in the comfort of my familiar routine. Letting go of some of my pain through my words. I know time heals wounds like it always does. For now, I&#8217;m dealing with it the best way I can- Talking to my mom often; reconnecting with my sister who just lost her mother and mourning with her; reaching out to my people just asking after them; writing a post in my blog after years; looking at Tharun&#8217;s glorious smile and determined attempt to stand up and walk. Trying to remember the best of my Periamma. Associating her with all things bright and vibrant. Seeing her wearing her Purple silk saree, taming her curly, tufty hair neatly with a clip, always wearing a smile.</p><blockquote><p>She&#8217;ll always be that; Purple, Curls, and Sunshine smile.</p><p>Rest in Peace, my beloved Perimms. You&#8217;ll always stay in our hearts.</p></blockquote> ]]>
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<![CDATA[ A Score and Four - The Story Behind ]]>
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<![CDATA[ Life throws you random lessons and treasures through one medium &#8211; People. ]]>
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<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
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<pubDate>Fri, 19 Apr 2019 19:13:01 GMT</pubDate>
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<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F1762af6f-24a9-4ff4-8340-9ad66a28f63b_1280x720.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F1762af6f-24a9-4ff4-8340-9ad66a28f63b_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F1762af6f-24a9-4ff4-8340-9ad66a28f63b_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F1762af6f-24a9-4ff4-8340-9ad66a28f63b_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F1762af6f-24a9-4ff4-8340-9ad66a28f63b_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F1762af6f-24a9-4ff4-8340-9ad66a28f63b_1280x720.jpeg" width="1280" height="720" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/1762af6f-24a9-4ff4-8340-9ad66a28f63b_1280x720.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:720,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:797277,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F1762af6f-24a9-4ff4-8340-9ad66a28f63b_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F1762af6f-24a9-4ff4-8340-9ad66a28f63b_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F1762af6f-24a9-4ff4-8340-9ad66a28f63b_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F1762af6f-24a9-4ff4-8340-9ad66a28f63b_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>Life throws you random lessons and treasures through one medium &#8211; People. They say &#8216;it takes a village to raise a child!&#8217; that is because we learn, grow, adapt and reflect what who and what we see around us. And people are the very fabric of what makes A Score and Four. &nbsp;It is my reflection of the people I see, pass by, overhear or interact.</p><p>My short stories were mostly typed overnight, but I would never call any of them an overnight product. I think each and every one of them began from the day I started observing the people around. When depression started devouring the best version of me, I started looking around, trying to figure out life, trying to draw inspiration from the outside world, struggling to fight the void that was threatening to fill me. I tried to stop and listen, to reach and hold. The blurred colours that had whizzed past me so far, slowly resolved into faces. And each face had a story.</p><p>I started putting them in words in 2014, after dusting the cobwebs out my blog, a little gift that my husband gave me way back in 2011. I blew new life into Merila.gln.me, with my first ever short story, &#8220;How I met My Rapunzel!&#8221; It&#8217;s been kind of a slow waltz with it ever since. Even then I refrained from posting them from any of the social media profiles. I started keeping them all treasured in my blog.</p><p>What started as a mere hobby, grew firmly rooted inside me, as a part of my identity. I started writing one story after another, slowly remembering one face after the other. The lonely homeless woman who slept with her dirty bundle of clothes in the bus stop became a story, the little boy who half-pedals a big bicycle and whirled &#8216;The Hindu&#8217; papers in the morning became a story. I tried imagining their backstory, and it opened my eyes and world into a kaleidoscope of colours, mostly many different shades of greys.</p><p>What was merely a vague dream, started taking a solid shape through my blog and I owe a big one to LN (my husband) for making it possible. He identified the true potential of what it could be, nurtured the passion in me, pruned out my laziness and exposed me to the light of social that helped me grow. He believed me when I couldn&#8217;t and that I think, has made a world of difference to me. He pushed me to start writing under my own name, called me a writer when I didn&#8217;t have the guts to do it myself. Merila.gln.me evolved to Krupawrites.com which later started growing as a basic definition of who I am.</p><p>My debut book - A Score and Four is a collection of 24 short stories is the product of years of hard work, sweat, blood and tears. It is merely my reflection of the society in as neutral a tone I could achieve. It has stories of people we meet in our life every day. None of the names or physical features of any of the characters in the story would stay with you once you finish the book, but I hope the people in them will.</p><p>So, What made it all come together? Stay tuned for my next post, to know more!</p><p>Buy your copy here (only on Kindle for now): <a href="https://amzn.to/2P7PuG5">https://amzn.to/2P7PuG5</a></p> ]]>
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<![CDATA[ A for Aasay chocolate ]]>
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<![CDATA[ This is my first ever #AtoZchallenge, and I was wondering what it was all about. ]]>
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<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
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<pubDate>Mon, 01 Apr 2019 18:33:37 GMT</pubDate>
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<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fda55730d-3ab5-4c54-bd95-ca10ede213ff_432x175.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fda55730d-3ab5-4c54-bd95-ca10ede213ff_432x175.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fda55730d-3ab5-4c54-bd95-ca10ede213ff_432x175.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fda55730d-3ab5-4c54-bd95-ca10ede213ff_432x175.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fda55730d-3ab5-4c54-bd95-ca10ede213ff_432x175.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fda55730d-3ab5-4c54-bd95-ca10ede213ff_432x175.jpeg" width="432" height="175" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/da55730d-3ab5-4c54-bd95-ca10ede213ff_432x175.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:175,&quot;width&quot;:432,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:27520,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fda55730d-3ab5-4c54-bd95-ca10ede213ff_432x175.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fda55730d-3ab5-4c54-bd95-ca10ede213ff_432x175.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fda55730d-3ab5-4c54-bd95-ca10ede213ff_432x175.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fda55730d-3ab5-4c54-bd95-ca10ede213ff_432x175.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div></div></div></a></figure></div><p>This is my first ever #AtoZchallenge, and I was wondering what it was all about. I reached out to the literary Wikipedia (seriously, the woman has answers to every question that you throw when it comes to writing or blogging ). She gave a She gave me a brief explanation to me over a WhatsApp voice message, and I grabbed this opportunity hard and fast. This series is a walk down my memory lane, peeking into the valuable treasure chest of memories that I have collected. I hope you get to enjoy them as much as I did! When you live in a big joint family, you have a defined set of people who discipline you and the other who pamper and spoil you big time. I am always up to some antics or the other and often fall prey for my mother&#8217;s dosa karandi (Spatula used to flip dosai). It happens quite often, and every time I bawl my eyes out and rush towards my grandma. &nbsp;She chides mom for beating me up and takes me for a short walk.</p><p>Our short walk usually ends near the shop at our street end. And every time, I end up with a fistful of Aasay chocolates. I think it&#8217;s an integral memory every South Indian 90&#8217;s kids childhood. I loved everything about that toffee and thinking back it&#8217;s the perfect metaphor of my childhood. Simple, sweet, without pretence. Everything about Aasay chocolate is fantastic, from the shiny blue wrapper that is sure many of collected and made rings, to the delicate way it melts in your mouth and the sticky feeling it leaves behind. As I grew up things around me changed and so did the chocolates. Though I look around unconsciously for a Ferrero Rocher or Bournville whenever I want to eat something sweet, the wonderful memory of Aasay lingers, like the tiny bit that remains stuck to the wrapper, that gives endless pleasure while licking it off and the aftertaste that lingers long after you&#8217;ve eaten it.</p> ]]>
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<![CDATA[ Amazing Women - Ep.10 - Wonder Women ]]>
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<description>
<![CDATA[ At school, there are classes where we sit enraptured, mainly because it is taught by our favorite teacher, and some subjects where we force ourselves to sit and focus because they are deemed necessary for the future. ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-10-wonder-women</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-10-wonder-women</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Sun, 10 Feb 2019 18:30:00 GMT</pubDate>
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<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fd992b565-68d7-46fe-acab-201a64e12833_1280x720.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fd992b565-68d7-46fe-acab-201a64e12833_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fd992b565-68d7-46fe-acab-201a64e12833_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fd992b565-68d7-46fe-acab-201a64e12833_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fd992b565-68d7-46fe-acab-201a64e12833_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fd992b565-68d7-46fe-acab-201a64e12833_1280x720.jpeg" width="1280" height="720" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/d992b565-68d7-46fe-acab-201a64e12833_1280x720.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:720,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:372070,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fd992b565-68d7-46fe-acab-201a64e12833_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fd992b565-68d7-46fe-acab-201a64e12833_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fd992b565-68d7-46fe-acab-201a64e12833_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fd992b565-68d7-46fe-acab-201a64e12833_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>At school, there are classes where we sit enraptured, mainly because it is taught by our favorite teacher, and some subjects where we force ourselves to sit and focus because they are deemed necessary for the future. And there are classes where we study mildly fascinating subjects that catch our attention for a few chapters but eventually fade away as they get complex. For me, that subject was biology. One of the experiments that caught my attention was a plant's lifecycle and a phenomenon called &#8220;Phototropism!&#8221;</p><p>It is the process where a plant reaches out and bends toward the direction of sunlight, and the standard example is when they have a potted plant lying down horizontally. The plant would bend ninety degrees to grow towards the sunshine, and that little plant is etched in memory.</p><p>As I sit here, penning down my last article of the series, that plant returned to my memory. Aren&#8217;t we all like that plant? Leaning and bending towards people, who shower us with unconditional love, are the undepletable source of our positivity and give us immense joy every time we seek them. One of them invariably ends up being our mother. In my case, I am doubly blessed as I have my mother-in-law on that list too. And this entire series is a tribute to these two truly inspiring women. Let&#8217;s start the tale with my mother, shall we?</p><p>Like many little girls, growing up, I was daddy&#8217;s little princess, and he used to call me Princess Diana as I totted her hair cut, which was all the rage back then. I did everything with my father, and my brother was closer to my mother. All I had in my mind about my mom was that she was a strict woman who wouldn&#8217;t hesitate to box my ears if I slipped in my marks. Slowly blossoming into womanhood, every one of those moments I hated her came back painted in a different view, in a zoomed-out view of the microscope, finally showing me the bigger picture. I wouldn&#8217;t be the woman I am today if my mom hadn&#8217;t been who she was. She was, like many middle-class women in our society, who barely slept, who took care of her children, who made sure there were meals on the table three times a day, who took care of every house chore one could imagine single-handedly, who would turn up in all the parents-teachers meet, who did a personal background check of her children&#8217;s friends, their bags and their diaries, who could sniff anything even slightly off with the member of the family and do it all while also running a shop part-time. &nbsp;</p><p>To be so many things at once, to be the sun the family revolves around, one must be immensely brave. And my all that and more. Ever imagine taking up a full-time job during the age and time when people finally decide to settle down calmly and retire? My mom, for the most part, was a stay-at-home woman who looked after our shop from 11 AM to 6 PM while my dad went out for his office work. She stopped after a while when my father decided to take up the shop full-time. A few years back, our whole world came crashing on us when we learned about our financial situation and our many debts. That moment she took on to wear a mantle that I would admire for the rest of my life. She took up a full-time job, working under someone after a gap of twenty years. She never complained about the cruel twist of fate but started looking at solutions and trying to make us all move on and past that. It was one of the most challenging phases of my life, but her silent strength and long breath of acceptance every morning inspired me to work hard toward life in general and not give up. My mom is not big on advice; she taught me a lot by example. I owe it all to her, for she is a fantastic gift to be loved, honored, cherished, and celebrated for the rest of my life!</p><h2>The Other Mother:</h2><p>I remember meeting my husband&#8217;s mother ten years back. She had such a cheerful and welcoming smile that I think I fell in love with her even before I did with her wonderful son. She works as a librarian in the Income Tax Department&#8217;s office in Chennai, and I have never seen such a committed woman who respects and loves her job as she does. She is a person who has been affected by Cerebral Palsy from birth which has affected her motor nerves making her legs progressively worse over the years. She cannot walk short distances without someone helping her or leaning on a wall. Going to work is a challenge, as she must get out of her van (which she climbs into with much effort every day) and walk to her office building by crossing the ever-busy Nungambakkam road. But I have never heard a sigh or had a dull moment while she gets ready for work. For she&#8217;s been doing it religiously for twenty-five years now, her finish line is close, and she has a couple more years to complete her service and retire. But she has no intention of stopping there. She wants to teach at a daycare center after retirement, wanting to teach and care for children with special needs as she had done in the early stages of her career before she signed up to serve as a Government employee. She loves traveling and meeting people and is always ready for an enjoyable bike ride with her beloved husband. For example, she taught me to laugh at my difficulties and enjoy the minor things in life with all the zeal I could feel. She&#8217;s an instant mood lifter with her ever-cheerful smile that tactically hides the grit of iron and that ferocious streak of tenacity. She is taciturn regarding her pains (and I have seen her go through a lot of them) and asks with a hopeful smile if you have eaten something, even if she&#8217;s lying in her hospital bed. She is strong, determined, empowered, cheerful, lovely, and so much more.</p><blockquote><p>As I finish this ode, I can only pray a few more healthy and happy years to share and cherish these amazing ladies of my life. I started this series to practice writing more, but from the first ever episode, this has been a rather intense and life-changing experience for me. In the last forty odd days, I&#8217;ve learned to laugh more, to live full, to work hard, to play harder, to love deeply and to be more! And I hope this had been a pleasant experience for you too!</p></blockquote><p>It&#8217;s time to call a wrap on this series, but don&#8217;t fret; there&#8217;s plenty more coming your way; until then, this is Krupa signing off!</p> ]]>
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<title>
<![CDATA[ Amazing Women Ep.9 - Anita Kamaraj - Etched in Memory ]]>
</title>
<description>
<![CDATA[ Imagine a beautiful dawn. ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-9-anita-kamaraj-frozen-in-time</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-9-anita-kamaraj-frozen-in-time</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Thu, 07 Feb 2019 03:30:00 GMT</pubDate>
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<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F4bc18f8a-72d4-40a5-be2e-9c478178e989_1280x720.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F4bc18f8a-72d4-40a5-be2e-9c478178e989_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F4bc18f8a-72d4-40a5-be2e-9c478178e989_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F4bc18f8a-72d4-40a5-be2e-9c478178e989_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F4bc18f8a-72d4-40a5-be2e-9c478178e989_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F4bc18f8a-72d4-40a5-be2e-9c478178e989_1280x720.jpeg" width="1280" height="720" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/4bc18f8a-72d4-40a5-be2e-9c478178e989_1280x720.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:720,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:343833,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F4bc18f8a-72d4-40a5-be2e-9c478178e989_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F4bc18f8a-72d4-40a5-be2e-9c478178e989_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F4bc18f8a-72d4-40a5-be2e-9c478178e989_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F4bc18f8a-72d4-40a5-be2e-9c478178e989_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>Imagine a beautiful dawn. The first rays of the sun were just teasing the sky with his gentle warmth, a subtle foreplay. The sky, in turn, blushes a gorgeous shade of pink, orange, and crimson. And just like the lace veil of gossamer silk that covers a bride&#8217;s face, a gentle layer of fog, covers the lush green tapestry made by the leaves, each of them sweating their night&#8217;s hard work as dewdrops. But all of these looks blurred, compared to the lone woman that stand amidst them. She is draped artfully in a saree of an earthy tone, the brown of it merging to the soil below as though the woman had sprouted from beneath, her lush black hair gently cascading down her shoulders in soft swirls. An orange Daffodil rests near the back of her ear, and she is lost in the serene beauty that surrounds her, her sculpted face painted with a smile of complete content, her eyes closed as she memorizes the beauty of it all. It becomes a moment frozen in time, etched in memory for all eternity.</p><p>And has the unmistakable watermark that says &#8220;Anita Kamaraj!&#8221;</p><p>I met Anita in one our foodie meets, and I remember being surprised when she introduced herself as a photographer. Yeas, we women are taking up and making a mark in a lot of fields, but photography is still a field that we are yet to explore to it&#8217;s fullest potential, and it&#8217;s not every day you get to meet a woman who is a professional photographer and looks confident and completely at ease holding a professional camera. I was duly impressed. When I decided to compile this series, her name was the first one I wrote down along with the first question I would ask her</p><p>&#8220;When did the passion for Photography start? When did become your profession?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Photography always excited me since I was a kid.</p><p>The technology which can capture and print a memory intrigued me a lot. When I was around 8 or 9, my parents had gotten a polaroid camera, and that minute which a picture came out of the camera, I knew I was going to have an intimate relationship with that gadget.</p><p>I liked what I chose to study, engineering and journalism. But those weren&#8217;t enough for me, those didn&#8217;t complete me, the jobs weren&#8217;t what I was looking for! The work started to exhaust me mentally and exhaust my creative sense or the urge to do something new. It would be 3 years since I started doing it professionally&#8221; she smiled.</p><p>I first started noting Anita&#8217;s work in my Instagram handle when <a href="https://www.krupawrites.com/amazing-women-ep-7-subhiksha-venkat-made-in-chennai/">Subhiksha Venkat</a> and few other friends began to some breath-taking photographs that captured their essence and the nature around them with such depth and character. It needs the right light, posture, setting, mood and so many other nuances to get it right, and it is more challenging in outdoor photography where many of the factors are not under your control.</p><p>&#8220;How do you manage them all? How do you design and style your photographs?&#8221; I questioned, my curiosity evident.</p><p>&#8220;Outdoor fashion shoot is fascinating and fun. We don&#8217;t style a photograph per se. We decide on a concept then pick clothing and relevant hair and makeup and choose a model who will pull it off, and we just go to the spot and start shooting, once you figure out the angles it&#8217;s easy to go forward with the shoot.&#8221; She replied with a shrug and a smile.</p><p>There are various genres in photography, and Anita loves and specializes in food and fashion photography, and she claims the former is her favorite. And Anita&#8217;s photos have such a sense of a life of in them, that you could almost smell the faint aroma of the delicacy her lens had captured. What would run in her mind every time she gets clicks a picture! I wondered.</p><p>&#8220;What do you say to yourself, every time you get behind your camera?&#8221; I asked her,</p><p>&#8220;Not kidding, I don&#8217;t think anything when I get behind the camera, but at sometimes there would come beautiful frames in them, and my heart would just flutter, and it is why I chose Photography!&#8221; she beamed.</p><p>Such passion is the only ladder that makes one soar heights, against all the odds. It is the only light that drives one through tough times, makes one excited and hopeful of the future. What would be Anita&#8217;s way forward from here, I wondered.</p><p>&#8220;I honestly don&#8217;t know where it is going to take me. But I do want to establish myself in the field of food Photography. For now, I am happy with the journey. It is scary at times, because of the insane amount of competition in the field. To be noticed, one must do things consistently yet differently&#8221; she said, her voice resolute.</p><p>My admiration for the woman spiked up sharply, bolstered by her succinct answers, her chilled-out personality, and her beguiling smile and as I drew close to the end of my interview, I could feel my heart expand with pride with pride thinking all my amazing women so far. I realized this would be the final time I ask my last question and it is a memory that would remain etched in my mind for a long time. &nbsp;</p><p>&#8220;What message do you have for the women out there?&#8221; I asked her</p><blockquote><p>&#8220;Women are already rocking the field of Independent artists, don&#8217;t give up on your dreams no matter how small or big they are. Don&#8217;t be frightened. Don&#8217;t let others tell you what you are good at. Believe in yourselves. It&#8217;s never too late. Discover your dream, work for it, pursue it, rock it and make your heart flutter!&#8221; She finished.</p></blockquote><p>With my heart fluttering, I want to let you know that this the end of the interview sessions of my &#8220;Amazing Women&#8221; Episodes. The last episode of this feature is a special feature about not one, but two of the most important, inspiring women in my life. Stay tuned for the finale!</p><p>PS: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/anitakamaraj/">Checkout Anita Kamaraj on Instagram</a></p> ]]>
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<title>
<![CDATA[ Amazing Women Ep.8 - Malini Gowrishankar - The Fiery Wings ]]>
</title>
<description>
<![CDATA[ When you have a husband (then boyfriend) who&#8217;s crazy about networking, you go to places, you never knew existed. ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-8-malini-gowrishankar</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-8-malini-gowrishankar</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Thu, 31 Jan 2019 06:32:00 GMT</pubDate>
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<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F44998098-89da-43cd-89f7-c505e5647c7e_1280x720.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F44998098-89da-43cd-89f7-c505e5647c7e_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F44998098-89da-43cd-89f7-c505e5647c7e_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F44998098-89da-43cd-89f7-c505e5647c7e_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F44998098-89da-43cd-89f7-c505e5647c7e_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F44998098-89da-43cd-89f7-c505e5647c7e_1280x720.jpeg" width="1280" height="720" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/44998098-89da-43cd-89f7-c505e5647c7e_1280x720.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:720,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:294895,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F44998098-89da-43cd-89f7-c505e5647c7e_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F44998098-89da-43cd-89f7-c505e5647c7e_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F44998098-89da-43cd-89f7-c505e5647c7e_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F44998098-89da-43cd-89f7-c505e5647c7e_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>When you have a husband (then boyfriend) who&#8217;s crazy about networking, you go to places, you never knew existed. You become part of communities that you come to love. You met a lot of interesting people who could teach you and inspire you for life. You make amazing friends that you would never let go for eternity.</p><p>That is how I ended up in <strong>Headstart Chennai</strong> Edition&#8217;s first start-up Saturday. And, that&#8217;s where I met this magnificent woman, who this episode is all about. I remember my first ever association with HS. My husband was a volunteer with the community, and I tagged along with him like I always do (I know, I am annoying that way!) I watched with growing curiosity the bustle all around, especially of a woman in a slick &#8220;Time to start up is now&#8221; T-shirt, a functional pair of jeans and a stylish Pixie cut. She had an air of confidence about her, endless energy and infectious enthusiasm.</p><p>My husband introduced me to her, told me she was Malini, an entrepreneur who runs a start-up company called <strong><a href="https://www.f5escapes.com/">F5 Escapes</a></strong>. It is a venture that specializes in organizing all-women trips with customized itinerary and provides an immense opportunity for women who would like to explore traveling without having the nagging doubt their safety.</p><p>I was stunned. Can you ever develop a deep respect and immense pride for a person in the when you have just met them? Malini was one such rare gem. And, when I decided to interview her for the series, I immediately knew the first question I would ask her</p><p>&#8220;How did F5 escapes start? When did the idea get rooted?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Started in the aftermath of the Delhi rape case. When that happened in Dec 2012, I realized I wanted to make travel better for women in India. I solidified the idea by April and by June, the company was up and running. F5 Escapes has the vision to redefine the way women travel in India.&#8221; She said.</p><p>I went from shock to anger to resentment to admiration in few seconds as I processed her answer. Women around the world have been oppressed forever, and the simplest and the most basic of human rights becomes a privilege for us. There is an entire sector of industries that entirely revolve around the concept of women safety. From pepper sprays, tasers, rape alarms, tracking apps to even rape safety underwear, we need several layers of precautions to step out of the house. Even with it all, we can never be too careful. We can never be out alone after a particular timeline, we can never drink to the point of getting tipsy, we can never walk alone in a shady lane, once every minute and the list goes on. Whatever we do, however, we fight we are still gory victims of the society affected one way or other, at varying degrees. To see a woman, raise with such responsibility and courage from another woman&#8217;s ashes, being a pioneer in the path of change is not just awe-inspiring, it&#8217;s heart-warming and truly sensational.</p><p>Thanks to her company, Malini meets several strong women who have instigating stories of their own, and together they form strong, ever-lasting, trust-worthy bonds that would last for a lifetime. I was curious about the whole ecosystem which formulated my next question.</p><p>&#8220;You would have met different women from different walks of life on your trips, some adventurous, young explorers, some middle-aged, conservative women who&#8217;s never travelled without their family before, old women who finally get their chance to savour their personal time, how do these women come together? what do you take home after every one of these journeys?&#8221; I asked.</p><p>&#8220;The first year of F5, I organized led a trip every month. That opened my eyes to perspectives I never had before. While in the initial days, our clientele were primarily single women, our groups these days have a mix of people from different backgrounds and varying levels of travel experience. The ability to share your space with a stranger and opening to them is a great skill to have, and I think our trips impart that to some extent. Also, being women empathetic to each other and learning from each other is another takeaway. Travel can lend perspectives that being in one place doesn&#8217;t, and we are earnestly trying to facilitate that. &nbsp;</p><p>Today we offer the following: Group departures, where a tour is announced, and women from anywhere can join in, Customised vacations for your own girl gangs, solo travel planning, and even family vacations! We also empower women with upskilling workshops like Motorbiking, Horse-riding, etc. and awareness workshops on sustainable menstruation, travel safety and sexuality education.&#8221; Her voice rang loud and clear. &nbsp;</p><p>And what a voice it is! If you happen to follow Malini on Facebook, you would realize that in addition to her invigorating thoughts she has an entrancing voice. She loves to sing, and she has been a professional voice over artist for years.</p><p>&#8220;How did that come about? was it a hobby?&#8221; I hurled questions at her, none too gracefully, my fascination and curiosity getting the better of me.</p><p>&#8220;I used to participate in TV reality shows back in the early 2000s. I moved to Bangalore in 2005, and I still wanted to keep my singing gene alive - hence I went to a recording studio in 2006 to record my voice for a reality show audition. The sound engineer said I had a great voice suitable for voice overs and I should give it a chance. Those days, I did my first ever voice over!</p><p>It continued as a hobby until I quit my corporate job to take it up full time in 2011. Soon, I set up a home studio and started recording - I also took up a part-time job as an RJ with Timbremedia ( Worldspace) and started doing creative writing. This continued till 2012 until the Delhi rape shook me enough to switch career and take up women safety and travel as the primary pursuit in life.&#8221; She sobered.</p><p>I took a breath as I processed. Malini has never been the one to shun away from bold choice both on the professional and personal front. She is a single mother, raising one gem of a boy, who is growing up to be an impeccable gentleman. Sangeeth is humble, understanding, caring and deeply rooted in ethics. &nbsp;</p><p>&#8220;Being single parent shouldering double the responsibilities, what values do you hold on to and impart to your son that makes him grow as responsible and compassionate as he is?&#8221; I asked her,</p><p>&#8220;I am proud of is the way the child has blossomed - Children of single parents turn out to be generally more mature and sensitive than their peers, with a bit of guidance. Also, one thing that people going through a divorce must understand is that no parent has the right to deny the child his/her other parent unless the other parent is proven to be a dangerous person to the child. &nbsp;If all women and men keep this is mind and not pollute the child&#8217;s thoughts with their own bitterness and contempt for the ex, the child can grow up to be a very empathetic, sensitive person. Counseling is a brilliant tool as well - Some amount of awareness on child and adult counseling and what wonders it can do will really help people going through adversity bounce back to life.</p><p>Regarding values, empathy, forgiveness and the ability to think from another person&#8217;s perspective are some of the key benefits that I am trying to instill in the child. Long way to go!&#8221; Malini said, and like everything she has said before, this made perfect sense and increased my respect for this marvelous woman multi-fold, and I knew of all the women in the series, this woman&#8217;s answer for my last question would create a lasting resonance.</p><p>&#8220;What message do you have for the woman out there?&#8221; I whispered, holding my breath for her answer.</p><blockquote><p>&#8220;I am no expert to dole out advice. But I can say this as a peer - it is a great idea to understand the impermanence of life and not take oneself or one&#8217;s current set of ideas as the ultimate reality. We change, our ideas change all the time! Also, developing enough mental strength will help us tide over most situations. Vipassana, a lot of reading and keeping at my business all through adversity were the things that helped me. Go figure out what drives you and keep at it!&#8221;</p></blockquote><p>She said with a heart rendering smile, and that folks is the best message I can get across to you ever and I am mighty proud and grateful to myself that I did!</p><p>PS: <a href="https://www.f5escapes.com/">Checkout Malini&#8217;s startup, F5 Escapes here</a></p> ]]>
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<title>
<![CDATA[ Amazing Women Ep.7 - Subhiksha Venkat - Made in Chennai ]]>
</title>
<description>
<![CDATA[ Though I know it&#8217;s man-made, every time I look up at the fireworks in the night sky, I think &#8220;this is what magic must look like!&#8221; Ever thought about the source of them? ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-7-subhiksha-venkat-made-in-chennai</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-7-subhiksha-venkat-made-in-chennai</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Wed, 30 Jan 2019 16:31:38 GMT</pubDate>
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<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F948f8747-126c-4c32-a234-121ae1e1d750_1280x720.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F948f8747-126c-4c32-a234-121ae1e1d750_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F948f8747-126c-4c32-a234-121ae1e1d750_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F948f8747-126c-4c32-a234-121ae1e1d750_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F948f8747-126c-4c32-a234-121ae1e1d750_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F948f8747-126c-4c32-a234-121ae1e1d750_1280x720.jpeg" width="1280" height="720" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/948f8747-126c-4c32-a234-121ae1e1d750_1280x720.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:720,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:352598,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F948f8747-126c-4c32-a234-121ae1e1d750_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F948f8747-126c-4c32-a234-121ae1e1d750_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F948f8747-126c-4c32-a234-121ae1e1d750_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F948f8747-126c-4c32-a234-121ae1e1d750_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>Though I know it&#8217;s man-made, every time I look up at the fireworks in the night sky, I think &#8220;this is what magic must look like!&#8221; Ever thought about the source of them? They look pretty in their own way, packed in simple packaging, nothing seems unique about them, till you see them in their element; and when you get to see them in their prime and part, you are captivated by their sheer magic all your eternity. You want more of them, because they mesmerize you, make you believe in the power of a tiny spark, lay proof of the heights you could reach by just pushing yourself &nbsp;a little further, show the glorious magnificence you could transform yourself into, and show how you could be a lasting moment of magic in many people&#8217;s lives.</p><p>Such is the magic of a small firework, such is the magic of Subhiksha Venkat.</p><p>I remember meeting Subhi in one of our foodies meets, a young girl, who looked fresh and adorable, a sweet college kid. I remember having some brief conversations with her and forgot her at that. As time by, we started connecting over many digital, and that&#8217;s how I came across her Instagram profile, and I was blown away. Over the memory of a little girl, over-lay the face of a young woman who was stylish, sophisticated, elegant and pleasant. I&#8217;ve been following her ardently ever since, continually marvelling at the way she has moulded herself, the way her sense of passion got refined. But all things start small, don&#8217;t they? So, I asked her where did this unquenchable thirst for fashion start?</p><p>&#8220;I was always fond of dressing up &amp; dressing people up from when I was a baby. My grandfather still makes fun of the fact that I made my grandma a guinea pig when I was 5-6 years old and applied powder, Lishtik (Lipstick), cream and styled her hair with hair gel and oil. I love representing myself with the outfits I wear, styling it in different ways possible, finding new brands that suit my personal style. I loved the confidence that it gives me!&#8221;</p><p>True, dressing better, gives us a tremendous boost to our confidence. The more we feel we are in our skin, the better it shows. But that doesn&#8217;t mean you have to go out the of the way or overboard to the point of making it uncomfortable. Comfort is the numero uno factor when it comes to everyday fashion (we&#8217;re going to conveniently forget, the MET gala, our wedding, and Halloween here) and Subhi knows and shows how to do that while retaining the chic factor. &nbsp;</p><p>&#8220;You have a chic yet elegant style, how do you pull it off? how do you choose your brands?&#8221; I asked her,</p><p>&#8220;Thank you, Krupa!&#8221; she blushed to a pretty shade of Coral (or imagine any other shade of palest peach, I should think) I think that I do not try too hard to put together an outfit. I don&#8217;t over accessorize, don&#8217;t work with way too many colours&#8230;basically, I don&#8217;t overdo, and it could be the reason. More than the brands, I choose the products!&#8221;</p><p>With that simple answer, don&#8217;t underestimate our daring young woman as she can very well cause a viral revolution. Her #teamblacksaree was a sensational trend that captivated the South Indian women, who are curbed from wearing anything black to any auspicious occasions. As the story went, she had worn a beautiful black silk saree to a wedding, and people took it on them to advice about the inauspiciousness that the colour black can bring about feel-good occasions, like a wedding. She had then sought to Instagram, questioning the freedom of choice and the age-old social norms that still, somehow find a way to bind us. Scores of women took were inspired by it, and took to the media with the #teamblacksaree hashtag and posted many pictures of them boldly defying customs, being rebellious all the while looking ethereal, draped in spectacular black sarees.</p><p>Quite a fabulous tale isn&#8217;t it? Dressing up takes a lot of courage, to be honest. &nbsp;I know many of us at some point or the other, completely fell in love with a dress but didn&#8217;t dare to do even a trial of it, fearing what would people comment about it, when we venture out wearing it. &#8220;What tip can you tell for women to come out of that shell?&#8221; I asked her,</p><p>&#8220;Ah, just go for it, ladies! The only thing that I would say is to dress up for yourselves and not for others. Don&#8217;t expect validation from others. If you are satisfied, then the confidence will automatically show.&#8221; She smiled.</p><p>I agreed, smiling back. Confidence is not just defined by clothes, but our choices and actions as well. Subhi is not only daring and adventurous with her selection of products, but we could also tell that about her when it comes to her profession. She quit her stable full-time job, to become a PR Manager and handles the Public relation aspect of many popular brands.</p><p>&#8220;It is quite a gamble to give up a full-time job and start a career where you help brands build their social presence, what motivated you to take that step?&#8221; I asked her,</p><p>&#8220;Yes, I was in a regular 9-5 job. I quite enjoyed my work, but I really loved the world of Digital marketing, PR and of course my blog. I really wanted to explore this section, and well, I just took a leap of faith.&#8221;</p><p>Maybe answers to all complicated questions in life is a simple as that. Perhaps all it takes is a leap of faith. All that&#8217;s needed to make a difference it to take the first step. I asked her the last question before I wandered off into a quest of soul-searching.</p><p>&#8220;What message do you have for the women out there?&#8221; I questioned, quite curious to know her answer.</p><blockquote><p>&#8220;The Future is Us, ladies!&#8221;</p></blockquote><p>she said with a cheer, and that was quite perfect!</p><p>PS: Checkout Subhiksha&#8217;s website <a href="https://madeinchennai.com/">Made in Chennai</a></p> ]]>
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<title>
<![CDATA[ Amazing Women Ep.6 - Mathangi Manikandan - The Magic of a Smile ]]>
</title>
<description>
<![CDATA[ As I sit staring at the blank MS Word document, thinking about the woman who this article is about, I can&#8217;t help but roll my eyes above and give a grateful sigh heavenwards. ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-6-mathangi-manikandan-the-magic-of-a-smile</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-6-mathangi-manikandan-the-magic-of-a-smile</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Tue, 29 Jan 2019 06:40:44 GMT</pubDate>
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<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fe72353b0-da64-4f1b-bbb1-6860e23e66da_1280x720.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fe72353b0-da64-4f1b-bbb1-6860e23e66da_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fe72353b0-da64-4f1b-bbb1-6860e23e66da_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fe72353b0-da64-4f1b-bbb1-6860e23e66da_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fe72353b0-da64-4f1b-bbb1-6860e23e66da_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fe72353b0-da64-4f1b-bbb1-6860e23e66da_1280x720.jpeg" width="1280" height="720" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/e72353b0-da64-4f1b-bbb1-6860e23e66da_1280x720.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:720,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:331922,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fe72353b0-da64-4f1b-bbb1-6860e23e66da_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fe72353b0-da64-4f1b-bbb1-6860e23e66da_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fe72353b0-da64-4f1b-bbb1-6860e23e66da_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fe72353b0-da64-4f1b-bbb1-6860e23e66da_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>As I sit staring at the blank MS Word document, thinking about the woman who this article is about, I can&#8217;t help but roll my eyes above and give a grateful sigh heavenwards. Ever had a person who walked into your life with so much life and love, that everything you had previously seems like a colored blur? Ever had a person a person gets into your life and fill some part of you, that you didn&#8217;t even realize was a void? Ever met a woman in your life, who can forever leave you with a smile and a sense of happiness, with just a smile? In short, have you ever come across Mathangi Manikandan in your life?</p><p>If you had, then you have been blessed with a dose of good leprechaun luck!</p><p>I owe a great deal to my husband, who is the prime reason for all the fantastic people in my life. He always pushed me out of my comfortable, introvert zone and introduced me to some fabulous people who I carry the privilege of calling friends. One such person is Mathangi.</p><p>I still remember meeting her the first time, walking towards us like a breath of fresh air. All through the meeting, I think I sat quite self-conscious, mentally trying to estimate her age. She prodded me subtly, with an occasional question, and without realizing I had opened, encouraged by her ever-present, mischievous smile. A memory that I would carry for life.</p><p>And that&#8217;s the first thing I asked her. &#8220;I&#8217;ve always seen you with an upbeat, positive smile no matter what happens with life, how do you do it?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;A healthy dose of that Sagittarian optimism (or denial?) maybe?!&#8221; she said.</p><p>Honestly, trust her to come up with quirky one-liners like that! Did I tell you about guessing her age, when I first met her? I had decided that she was a postgraduate probably in her final semester, so I think you could imagine my shock when I heard that she was an architect who had a thriving business. She runs <em><a href="https://www.facebook.com/insideviewdesigns/">The Inside View</a></em>, a firm that does fabulous interior d&#233;cor. Her designs are versatile, they are breezy, sophisticated, minimal, elegant, all at once. I was curious about the roots of it.</p><p>&#8220;Have you always been interested in architecture and interior design? where did the journey start?&#8221; I asked,</p><p>&#8220;My dad used to be a builder/contractor, and so I was essentially raised on construction sites playing real-life Lego. So, I knew pretty early on that I wanted to be an architect - except for a brief while when I was 10 and wanted to be the Prime Minister of India.&#8221;</p><p>For all knew, we would have more beautiful roads if she had gone on to pursue, her ten-year-old self&#8217;s dream (Sigh!). As I always say, customer satisfaction in the design field is an arbitrary concept. What would be considered a good theme, in terms of aesthetics and technical expertise may earn nothing but a displeased purse of lips from the end user and vice versa. It is always about striking a balance between the customer&#8217;s needs, and our expertise and Mac is an excellent juggler of things.</p><p>&#8220;How do you stay at the top of your game? How do you keep yourself updated about the design trends around the world and get it to your clients?&#8221; I questioned,</p><p>&#8220;We live in great times where you can go online and educate yourself on just about anything. Clients are more aware these days, well-traveled and Pinterest the hell out of each trend and so the online community helps a lot overall. But having said that, trends and fads are just transient. What makes you stronger and more consistent as a designer is a firm conviction that you design for real people with real lives. These are spaces that people get to work in for most of their day or get back to each evening as a haven from the world. I remind myself with each project that it is the client&#8217;s home or office and the design needs to reflect their own personality, lifestyle, all quirks included. It keeps me grounded and makes me deliver what exactly they need. After all, we don&#8217;t design just for the photographs to turn out pretty or seem Pinterest worthy.&#8221; She answered without a hint of pretense.</p><p>That is what defines Mac! She is genuine, smart, humble, reliable, no pretense and no-nonsense. She has been a strong pillar of support and friendship ever since she stepped into my life and I told her as much. It made me wonder, who does she lean on? And that was my next question.</p><p>&#8220;You are a strong pillar in my life, and you seem to there for people no matter what! Do you think it&#8217;s imperative to have a support system? Who is that person for you?</p><p>&#8220;Oh, am so touched you feel that way. We all get overwhelmed, and we all have days when we feel we just can&#8217;t go on. It helps to have people who have your back, who always show up for you, check in on you from time to time or at least someone to rave and rant to without being judged. Otherwise, it is just one long lonely journey on earth isn&#8217;t it? As clich&#233; as it sounds, my family is everything to me&#8230;we are this oversharing, tight-knit bunch that sticks together no matter what!&#8221; she said, with absolute conviction.</p><p>All through the series, this has been the consistent answer. A woman can step out an do to achieve anything that she sets her heart, despite all the odds when she a strong support system and it&#8217;s all the more profound when it comes from your family. And family doesn&#8217;t stop with kith and kin. It grows full with your friends, your well-wishers and anyone who contributes to your happiness and draws pleasure from the prospect. &nbsp;For me, Mac is family. &nbsp;</p><p>We don&#8217;t meet for months together, don&#8217;t even chat as often as friends do, but the mere thought she exists keeps me content and happy. This time I did extract a promise for a meet-up soon as I put forth my last question.</p><p>&#8220;What message do you have for the women out there?&#8221; I asked,</p><blockquote><p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t be afraid to put yourself out there and be judged. Everyone has their own set of insecurities and daily battles they are fighting. So, the fear of being judged negatively shouldn&#8217;t stop you from going after what you want. Even if you fail, people will get bored of talking about you and move on eventually. But the regret that remains if you didn&#8217;t even give it a shot is probably the most expensive of them all.&#8221; She said. And that&#8217;s all I am going to leave here for you folks, to take with you from here!</p></blockquote><p>PS: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/mathangi.manikandan/">Checkout Mathangi Manikandan on Instagram</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/insideviewdesigns/">The Inside View on Facebook</a></p> ]]>
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<![CDATA[ Amazing Women Ep.5 - Sukanya Kaur - The Girl with a Taste ]]>
</title>
<description>
<![CDATA[ Food! ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-5-sukanya-kaur-the-girl-with-taste</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-5-sukanya-kaur-the-girl-with-taste</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Mon, 28 Jan 2019 07:00:30 GMT</pubDate>
<enclosure url="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6694fde6-3c77-4296-b242-ea3217e3dcf7_1280x720.jpeg" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/>
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<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6694fde6-3c77-4296-b242-ea3217e3dcf7_1280x720.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6694fde6-3c77-4296-b242-ea3217e3dcf7_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6694fde6-3c77-4296-b242-ea3217e3dcf7_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6694fde6-3c77-4296-b242-ea3217e3dcf7_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6694fde6-3c77-4296-b242-ea3217e3dcf7_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6694fde6-3c77-4296-b242-ea3217e3dcf7_1280x720.jpeg" width="1280" height="720" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/6694fde6-3c77-4296-b242-ea3217e3dcf7_1280x720.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:720,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:393305,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6694fde6-3c77-4296-b242-ea3217e3dcf7_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6694fde6-3c77-4296-b242-ea3217e3dcf7_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6694fde6-3c77-4296-b242-ea3217e3dcf7_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6694fde6-3c77-4296-b242-ea3217e3dcf7_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>Food! Food has the power to unite to people from different walks of life together. Sharing a hot cup of Maggi noodles, cooked without the knowledge of the warden, solidifies the bond of hostel-mates. The aromatic elaichi tea from the shabby tea shop outside your elegant office building gives your interesting friends for a lifetime. The smile you give to a stranger when both of you pass by a small &#8220;bhai&#8221; biriyani shop inhaling the intense of aromatic spices and sighing, that forms a temporary bond of commonness and a reminiscence of all the sweet memories. All over the world people are uniting by the universal love for food. And that&#8217;s how a gang of us got together in a restaurant and made bonds that would last a lifetime, and that&#8217;s where I met Sukanya Kaur.</p><p>Ever met a woman, who stunned you for a minute, with nothing but a smile? That was Suki for me. From the perfectly arched eyebrows, the sculpted lips with a soft pink shade of lipstick and that intense eyes, she mesmerized me, captivated my attention. After that initial moment of speechlessness, she spoke. And I knew she was going to be a fantastic chapter in my life at that moment. &nbsp;</p><p>Sukanya is an architect by passion and profession, a skilled Bharatanatyam dancer, an adventurous foodie and your girl-next-door kind of fashionista. She displays us examples of elegant yet affordable fashion in her personal Instagram handle and take our taste-buds to a gastronomical tour on her other Instagram handle, <strong>@<a href="https://www.instagram.com/girlwithataste/">girlwithataste</a></strong>. The interiors that she has designed in many famous restaurants shows her expertise in her field of profession and needlessly to say, she moves like a gentle breeze when she dances. Needless to say, she immediately went into my list of inspiring women. And I had to ask her all the questions, I&#8217;ve always wanted to ask, to learn more about her, to get inspired more. There were so many things to ask her, I started with the one thing that piqued my curiosity the most.</p><p>&#8220;Where did you find your calling, to be an architect?&#8221; I asked her,</p><p>&#8220;I hail from a family of &#8216;Vishwakarmas&#8217; who are Acharis, sculptors and temple architects. In fact, the silver chariot in our Kapaleeshwar temple was made by my great grandfather. Even as a child I was always fascinated with temples and old buildings. I still have an eye for anything that is vintage. To be honest, I never thought of taking up Architecture although my father is an Architect. I was under the impression that it involved a lot of Mathematics. When it was time to get into college, it was by chance I learnt that a friend of mine was taking the NATA exams and I gave it a thought. It was then I decided that I would follow in my father&#8217;s footsteps. I strongly believe in DESTINY, and I believe that day changed my life, and there&#8217;s no turning back!&#8221;</p><p>When you hail from a family that loves and lives with such passion for their art and historical pride, you tend to be insightful and look at things more in-depth than the normal eye. You tend to cherish them as part of your history. Part of yourself. And the feeling is tenfold when you create something on your own. That applies to every creative field of work, including buildings and interiors.</p><p>&#8220;Wow, do you draw inspirations for the themes you create? What is the trick to satisfy your customers?&#8221; I shot out my next question</p><p>&#8220;When a client approaches me with details for a project, a preliminary outline forms in my mind. I love vintage and cozy spaces. But not all areas can be treated the same. I first put my ideas on paper, and if I am stuck somewhere, then I look up for inspirations online. It&#8217;s okay to get inspired by something, but one must never lose their individuality. &nbsp;</p><p>Satisfying the clients is the most challenging part of the design process. Everyone has a different perspective and taste. Most of the times my clients propose ideas that would never go with the theme, and initially, I had great trouble adjusting to that. But over time, I have learned to accept that it&#8217;s their space and money and have found common ground.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;True!&#8221; I nodded to myself. One of the most challenging and abstract areas in a design related profession is customer satisfaction. Each person&#8217;s perception differs, and a single floral motif could satisfy the end user more than the abstract concept that you created, investing hours and hours and displaying all of your skill and expertise. What Suki has is a quite a stressful job where the potential of her creativity, the commitment she has for deadlines and the extent of her patience is continuously challenged. I am in a similar field, and I know it could be exhausting because all I want to do at the end of the work is to curl up in my bed, not wake up till the next day. &nbsp;</p><p>But this woman can have a tough call with a customer, then go to on a food walk with friends and dance it all off in the evening, all with a smile.</p><p>&#8220;An architect, a foodie, a fashionista, a dancer, where do you get your endless energy from? How do keep your fashion for so many things continuously recharged?&#8221; I asked her, quite amazed.</p><p>&#8220;The secret of my endless energy is definitely my FAMILY. My parents are extremely hard working and growing up, I have never seen them give up easily be it anything. My mother always made sure that I never wasted my time and would always keep me engaged in some activity or the other. While my friends would play after school, I was heading to dance, music, yoga and swimming classes. The routine continued through college. Till date, I am so used to multitasking that it comes to me naturally.</p><p>Although I play different roles in a day, the reason I keep going at it with so much passion is that I enjoy it thoroughly. Architecture never feels like work to me, I love creating something new. I have always been a foodie and food excites me. Dance defines me and makes me stand out. As for fashion, I love dressing up, and it so happens that people like my style.&#8221; She shrugged the last part of it elegantly.</p><p>I just don&#8217;t happen to like her style, I am completely head over heels in love with it. She has effortless style, and her choices are so simple yet elegant and sensible. &#8220;Where do you draw your inspirations from?&#8221; I questioned her</p><p>&#8220;My sense of fashion is simple; Wear what is comfortable and dress according to my body. I like dressing up in sober colours and prefer only silk and cotton. A kanchivaram silk saree is any day close to my heart than a designer piece. I feel sarees are a significant investment because they never go out of fashion and you can always keep making new blouses over the time. Just because something is in Vogue doesn&#8217;t mean it is going to look good on everyone. For example, I avoid wearing boat neck dresses or blouses, because I have broad shoulders and it&#8217;ll make me look broader. &nbsp;</p><p>I don&#8217;t look for inspirations or try to take references from anyone&#8217;s looks. If something catches my eye, I buy it and put something together. Frankly speaking, I don&#8217;t find time to browse through a lot of fashion pages but would love to make time for it in the future.&#8221; She smiled.</p><p>I &#8216;ve got to say that I drool over her choice of sarees. They have such a vintage, classical touch to them. Just like her chosen form of dance. (Come on now, you folks know I was heading here). Sukanya is also an accomplished Bharatnatyam dancer, and recently she performed her thematic, solo dance presentation of &#8220;Rama Rasanubhavam,&#8221; which was a treat to the eyes.</p><p>&#8220;What does dance mean to you?&#8221; I asked her,</p><p>&#8220;It means the world to me. I have been learning Bharathanatyam under my guru <strong>Smt. Urmila Sathyanarayan</strong> for the past 18 years. I joined classes at the age of 10 and have developed a strong sense of discipline and time sense from my teacher. I think the guru plays an important role in moulding an artist and I feel fortunate to have a teacher like mine. I enjoy doing &#8216;Abinayam&#8217; (facial expressions) and love to keep improvising on them whenever I get time. I only wish that I fix my injuries and get more time to practice and perform in the future.&#8221;</p><p>I could feel her passion and her zeal in every one of the answers she told, I could feel it touch and kick-start my heart like a bolt of electricity, and I knew I would carry this respect for her throughout my life. And all I had left me with was one last question.</p><p>&#8220;What message do you have for the women out there?&#8221; I asked</p><blockquote><p>&#8220;Follow your heart. You are special in your own way, so don&#8217;t lose your confidence and let anyone or anything intimidate you. Hold your head up and march on!&#8221;</p></blockquote><p>she said, painting a picture of her confident stance in my mind and I could nothing but grin with delight, taking pride in sharing the story of such an amazing to you folks!</p><p>PS: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/girlwithataste/">Checkout Sukanya Kaur (Girl with a taste) on Instagram</a> for food and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/sukanyakaur/">Sukanya Kaur for her fashion diary</a></p> ]]>
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<![CDATA[ Amazing Women Ep.4 - Kavipriya - The Unbridled Poetry ]]>
</title>
<description>
<![CDATA[ We have always had that one poetry in our school times, that is classified as the most difficult to learn. ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-4-kavipriya-the-urbridled-poetry</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-4-kavipriya-the-urbridled-poetry</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Wed, 23 Jan 2019 05:21:18 GMT</pubDate>
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<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F65837574-e71c-4eee-b476-82f0df066044_1280x720.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F65837574-e71c-4eee-b476-82f0df066044_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F65837574-e71c-4eee-b476-82f0df066044_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F65837574-e71c-4eee-b476-82f0df066044_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F65837574-e71c-4eee-b476-82f0df066044_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F65837574-e71c-4eee-b476-82f0df066044_1280x720.jpeg" width="1280" height="720" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/65837574-e71c-4eee-b476-82f0df066044_1280x720.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:720,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:275935,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F65837574-e71c-4eee-b476-82f0df066044_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F65837574-e71c-4eee-b476-82f0df066044_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F65837574-e71c-4eee-b476-82f0df066044_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F65837574-e71c-4eee-b476-82f0df066044_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>We have always had that one poetry in our school times, that is classified as the most difficult to learn. The words confuse us, the alliterations don&#8217;t make any sense, the metaphors so meaningless; We read the read the poetry for the heck of it, purely for the marks it could score us in the examinations; but as we grow, we realize that it is the only poem that stuck.</p><p>Those lines that we struggled with are the ones that would relate life to us in all its glorious rawness. Somehow, all the words would make sense, all the alliterations would amaze us, all the metaphors absolutely mesmerize us. We realize, the poem has slowly grown on us, doing its part of moulding us into a better version.</p><p>For me, that poem is Kavipriya Moorthy.</p><p>Though we have never met in person, she paints a picturesque memory of defined curls, glowing skin and a misshaped tattoo (for all the joy, it&#8217;s shaped like a coffin, go ask her!) whenever I think of her. Also comes, the memory of the words she wields, the thoughts she pours and the poise and confidence that she carries herself with. She is a fervent traveller, commendable writer, spectacular speaker, erudite mentor and a no non-sense feminist. &nbsp;</p><p>She has two books to her name, I don&#8217;t wear sunscreen and Dirty Martini; and countless more FB posts and poetry that explores different aspects of people and relationships.</p><p>&#8220;When did this journey towards writing start?&#8221; I asked her,</p><p>&#8220;There was a phase when my friends said, &#8220;do something to keep yourself busy and keep your mind off,&#8221; and warn that &#8220;an idle mind is the devil&#8217;s workshop,&#8221; - I had to pull myself, put together and do something. I tried baking, but my cupcakes were burnt. I did some crafts, but the icecream sticks wouldn&#8217;t stick together. I cooked, and it was just about edible. But, when I started writing - it gave me peace. Solitude. As much as I don&#8217;t want to romanticize &#8220;writing&#8221; - it&#8217;s the only thing that gave me what I wanted. Or rather, it was something I tried, and it felt &#8220;Ah! This is what I always wanted!&#8221; &nbsp;I could pretty much envision the spark bulb going on above her head.</p><p>She is a fantastic author, and of course, I asked her about her books, since she is still trying to secretly bury &#8220;I don&#8217;t wear sunscreen&#8221; deep down the Kindle book list, we spoke about her favourite baby Dirty Martini. Every author has that one book that changes their course of life. For her DM was that book. &#8220;Dirty Martini has impacted and touched many people across the spectrum, how did it touch you? What changed in you when you wrote it?&#8221; I asked</p><p>&#8220;Everything changed when I did Dirty Martini. I&#8217;ve had times when I would finish a chapter and cry. &#8220;Dirty martini&#8221; is super raw and I just wanted it to hit people at their weakest. Ask them vulnerable questions. I&#8217;ve improved as a person. Even when I slightly judge someone, my insides would say &#8220;C&#8217;on author of DM, judging someone?&#8221;</p><p>Dirty Martini healed me from all the pain I contained. It was an answer to all the questions I ever had. DM is the end line of my past that affected my days&#8221; her words rung clear, and I had to smile. Seriously, the women give a lot of things to laugh about, her tattoo, her hashtags, and her very many quirks.</p><p>There is one such quirk of her that I admire the most. While many who just have a vague manuscript in mind call themselves, the woman takes pride in calling herself a poet; so much in fact that she&#8217;s built a unique, passionate business out of it. The concept behind &#8220;Poertarita&#8221; is to create customized poems for her customers, who open their hearts, seeking her help to convey the emotions that are bubbling into them, into soulful verses. Poems gifted this way are as personalized as it can get, and they are also sent in cute little packages, which makes the gesture more touching.</p><p>&#8220;How did this amazing idea come about?&#8221; I questioned</p><p>&#8220;So, I was traveling to Bangalore after a trip from Sakleshpur, and I was looking at a friend sitting right opposite who&#8217;s a photographer. She&#8217;s a friend of a friend. The one who connected us is a miniature artist. I kept thinking, &#8220;It&#8217;s amazing how people can turn passion to a profession, and wondered how writing is held tight under &#8220;art&#8221; umbrella that wouldn&#8217;t pay for your breakfast,&#8221;</p><p>It used to hurt me when I look at people who are great writers, but they don&#8217;t have the time to put their thoughts in black and white because they&#8217;re running to win bread. I wanted to tear that satin screen. I don&#8217;t want people to beat me with don&#8217;t ask money for art. I wanted to try, and I did. I wondered what&#8217;s to lose? Maybe, they&#8217;ll call me selfish. Maybe, they&#8217;ll ask how I could put a price tag on my art. But not something I&#8217;ve not heard before. I had nothing to lose when I started, but I&#8217;ve gained a lot now. A lot of happy tears. So much trust. Personal stories that one&#8217;s afraid to share. Being a confidant. I love <strong>Poetarita</strong> for what it has done and, it also pays for my lunch.&#8221;</p><p>Travel does give people a chance to self-explore and bring in the sense of freedom and often sows the seeds of inspiration and Kavipriya is ever the travel bug and take up a lot of lone travels as well, and that was my next question to her. &#8220;You are a nomad, taking up a lot of adventurous trips, are you not scared, do you face any challenges?&#8221; I asked her</p><p>&#8220;Frankly, traveling comes first. My writing feeds off from traveling. I&#8217;m an introvert, I am not quick to make friends, I wouldn&#8217;t even ask for directions, so traveling forces that out of me. It puts me on the hot seat. I experience anxiety, and I&#8217;ve even cancelled a few trips, but I think I&#8217;ve grown a lot. I learned people. It helps me to be non-judgmental. Have no opinions. To just go with the flow!&#8221;</p><p>I applauded after this. I just had to. Here is a woman who had suffered pain, downfalls and many failures but dared to get back up every time and so with unabashed spirit, seeking and infusing strength through her words and her very many travels. Here is a woman who never shied away from writing her heart, rising above the vile comments and disgusting insults that fill her inbox. Here is a Cactus flower, thriving among many thorns that surround her. &nbsp;</p><p>&#8220;What message do you have for the women out there?&#8221; I ask her because I needed to hear it from this woman and take it to as many women I can.</p><blockquote><p>&#8220;It is essential to understand the battles and pain that other women had to fight for where we are now. If you&#8217;re joining college at ease, remember many women struggled to complete their school and not get married. You&#8217;re privileged. Stand up for you even if others wouldn&#8217;t. Stand up for the women around you. Support and hold each other because none else will.</p></blockquote><blockquote><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s easy to hold a board that reads &#8220;equality,&#8221; but the battled that umpteen women went through so you can hold that board is so important.</p></blockquote><blockquote><p>Don&#8217;t judge, be there for others, pay it forward - if someone does something nice for you, it&#8217;s not necessary to return it to them. Give it to someone else and ask them to pay forward. Never let someone tell you what you can do just because you have a vagina. Never let your gender be a reason for any decision that you have to take!&#8221;</p></blockquote><p>As she said this, I could see the firmness her eyes, the belief in her voice and the passion in her tone. She is raw, magnificent and sensational in all her glory &#8211; she is unbridled poetry!</p><p>PS: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/kavipriyamoorthy/">Kavipriya Moorthy on Facebook</a></p> ]]>
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<![CDATA[ Amazing Women Ep.3 - Divya - The Artist of Raw Dreams ]]>
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<description>
<![CDATA[ Not all of us like the idea of marriage, but almost all the women at one point or other in our lives have thought about our wedding. ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-3-divya-the-artist-of-raw-dreams</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-3-divya-the-artist-of-raw-dreams</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Tue, 22 Jan 2019 04:00:00 GMT</pubDate>
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<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3c162a34-22a3-4f05-9097-30b0e76e649c_1280x720.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3c162a34-22a3-4f05-9097-30b0e76e649c_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3c162a34-22a3-4f05-9097-30b0e76e649c_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3c162a34-22a3-4f05-9097-30b0e76e649c_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3c162a34-22a3-4f05-9097-30b0e76e649c_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3c162a34-22a3-4f05-9097-30b0e76e649c_1280x720.jpeg" width="1280" height="720" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/3c162a34-22a3-4f05-9097-30b0e76e649c_1280x720.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:720,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:316576,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3c162a34-22a3-4f05-9097-30b0e76e649c_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3c162a34-22a3-4f05-9097-30b0e76e649c_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3c162a34-22a3-4f05-9097-30b0e76e649c_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F3c162a34-22a3-4f05-9097-30b0e76e649c_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>Not all of us like the idea of marriage, but almost all the women at one point or other in our lives have thought about our wedding. We have dreamed about it, orchestrated with absolute perfection. The d&#233;cor, the flowers, the sangeet, mehandhi, the jewelry, the clothes and of course the makeup. The groom is usually a blur in those dreams as we don&#8217;t really bother.</p><p>Like a wise, old man married man said, &#8220;while marriage is about the two people who are getting married, the wedding is always about the bride(s). And when my turn to be a bride came, I was just wrecked package of anxiety, not knowing what to wear, how to prep my skin, where to scout for rented jewelry, pretty much nothing. The only thing I did know was that I should book a make-up artist quite early or the good ones would be gone. I turned to my good friend Sukanya, and she just whispered a name, one name &#8211; <a href="https://www.instagram.com/divya_mua/">Divyalakshmi</a>.</p><p>I booked her for my wedding and left her hanging without any details. And I went running back to her, two weeks before the wedding, desperately asking her what to do. She took up the mantle from me then, planning my bridal things one thing at a time. We designed my bridal attire over long Whatsapp chats and Pinterest boards, and I had my things sorted within a week. She was more than a makeup artist, she had become my beloved bridesmaid.</p><p>And, five days before my wedding, I went to her for my trial makeup and that&#8217;s when I first saw in person, and I knew then and there, this woman was going to an integral part of my journey for the rest of my life.</p><p>In her yet-to-be furnished apartment, with a lone dressing table, she spoke to me with such infecting enthusiasm, that it immediately calmed and relaxed me. She talked about her own wedding that was just a couple of months away, her thoughts about doing her own make-up (this stunned me) all the while, molding my face into something ethereal. When she finally finished, I looked at the mirror wholly prepared to see the most comical version of myself ever, but what I saw was a woman in her prime element, the utmost of her grace and beauty, a timeless version of her beauty that was going to be etched in her memory forever, an ethereal woman &#8211; a bride. And that moment, I knew my big day was going to be perfect.</p><p>Thinking back about it, I remember being intimated about the sheer number of brushed she had. &#8220;How did this start?&#8221; I asked her because I knew that&#8217;s where I should start. &#8220;I believe every woman has it in their genes. They realize and get into it when they start getting compliments/recognition. I was in school, and we bid bye to the uniforms during Fridays. We were so hesitant to repeat our outfits. So I do mix and match, cut and mend to turn the used one to fresh one. Friends/teachers started complimenting, and it continued!&#8221; she shrugged in that elegant, modest way.</p><p>I smiled, this was how she had been all through my bridal sessions with her. It is quite a delicate job as you don&#8217;t just work with the body of the woman, you work with the heart, and all the emotions, running through it. You&#8217;re practically giving the face to her dream. &#8220;how do you manage such a responsible, high-risk job?</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s every girl&#8217;s dream to look at their best on their big day. Again, going back to my childhood, I used to keep all my cousins and sisters in line and doll them up. After seeing so many known people(cousins, friends) getting disappointed on their big day due to the makeover that wasn&#8217;t delivered as promised or charging a bomb for a good makeover, I don&#8217;t want to let this happen for my sisters or me at least. So, I learned, practiced and now I have 40 happy brides and the happiest bride-me! Yeah, I did my own. My only motto, satisfied service with less hit on the pockets. Money doesn&#8217;t make me more than the happy brides</p><p>I had to agree what she said comes from the heart, because I was one of her happy brides. And I am still amazed by the way she handled all the craziness, my mom&#8217;s yelling and several other hasty, blurry sights that are so typical of a wedding. I can understand how had it would be to handle such tight-scheduled situations where the tension is running high, and the bride is at her most vulnerable time, does it ever make you nervous? How do you manage to overcome it ?&#8221; I asked. &#8220;Smile. Yeah, Just a smile. That covers my nervous face, and if it&#8217;s going out of control, I imagine myself &nbsp;as the bride, which give me loads of confidence to make them look super good.&#8221;</p><p>This line of work has the craziest of timings. I remember her coming in 2:30 AM in the morning to my muhurtham makeup to my place and then swinging by the temple where my wedding was taking place to give me a second costume change, calmly waiting for me from 4:00 PM at my reception venue and then rushing back to her full-time &nbsp;job around 7:30 PM after my make-up session,</p><p>&#8220;Phew! how do you manage it to do it all?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;I have an excellent support system from my family. My mom, sisters, dad and my Man. They always make sure that there is at least one with me or at least they will be dropping me in the location if they can&#8217;t make it. It used to be really difficult to manage before my wedding. As I had to travel alone in the early morning around 2 AM. I go by cabs and of course, would be scared to death. I will be making some conversation(asking about his kids, family, business) with the driver just to keep it sane. Until I reach the destination, my pulse would be out of control. Everything will have vanished when I see that satisfied smile on my bride&#8217;s face. What more would I ask for?&#8221; &nbsp;she smiled.</p><p>What more indeed? I mused and then asked her much the same. &#8220;What do you think lies ahead?&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;To be short: LOVE AND LIFE, she laughed. &#8220;As much as I love reading books/articles/blogs, I love speaking too. So, 2019 has given me a path to venture into travel vlogs. It should be up on YouTube soon!&#8221; Designing and wearing my own sketches for my wedding and doing my bridal makeup myself had given me such sense of satisfaction and happiness, I am hoping to expand on that idea to give a customized experience to all my brides. Keeping my fingers crossed &#8221; she said and crossed her fingers, I crossed mine too, wishing her all the luck! &#8220;What message do you have for the women out there?&#8221; I asked my signature final question.</p><blockquote><p>&#8220;DON&#8217;T underestimate yourself. You are more capable than what u think. U have the power to bring a human to this amazing world. So, Just give a try, you would be surprised by its results. Trust me on that!&#8221;</p></blockquote><p>she smiled.</p><p>&#8220;I do!&#8221; I smiled back.</p><p>PS: Divya&#8217;s Instagram Handle: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/divya_mua/">Divya MUA on Instagram</a></p> ]]>
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<![CDATA[ Amazing Women Ep.2 - Vidhya - A Little Piece of Happiness ]]>
</title>
<description>
<![CDATA[ You take a long leisure walk on a cloudy evening, not quite cold, but there&#8217;s definitely a chill in the wind. ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-2-a-little-piece-of-happiness</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-2-a-little-piece-of-happiness</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Sun, 13 Jan 2019 05:00:00 GMT</pubDate>
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<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5aafd460-681b-4ccf-86c8-8b83cb840fee_1280x720.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5aafd460-681b-4ccf-86c8-8b83cb840fee_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5aafd460-681b-4ccf-86c8-8b83cb840fee_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5aafd460-681b-4ccf-86c8-8b83cb840fee_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5aafd460-681b-4ccf-86c8-8b83cb840fee_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5aafd460-681b-4ccf-86c8-8b83cb840fee_1280x720.jpeg" width="1280" height="720" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/5aafd460-681b-4ccf-86c8-8b83cb840fee_1280x720.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:720,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:299802,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5aafd460-681b-4ccf-86c8-8b83cb840fee_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5aafd460-681b-4ccf-86c8-8b83cb840fee_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5aafd460-681b-4ccf-86c8-8b83cb840fee_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5aafd460-681b-4ccf-86c8-8b83cb840fee_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>You take a long leisure walk on a cloudy evening, not quite cold, but there&#8217;s definitely a chill in the wind. You slow down to absorb all the lush greenery around you and stand mesmerised looking at the endless vastness of the big blue sky&#8230;</p><p>And then light, cool breeze touches you! It&#8217;s just a whiff, that leaves you fulfilled, elated even; and you walk ahead with a small spring in your step humming a random, happy tune! Turn that lovely breeze into a person, and that&#8217;s who Vidhya is!</p><p>We met through a common group of friends and a deep love for food. Known as <strong>#thehungryzombie</strong> popularly, her passion for food is love at its best. She is an all-around natural person, easy to laugh with, easy to talk to, easy to share food with, but wrong, are the people who judge her as the easy to go, girl!</p><p>Behind that effortless grace and easy smile is a grit of iron and tenacity of a fresh grass overtaking the storm, and that&#8217;s why &#8221;<strong><a href="https://www.instagram.com/_tulua/">Tulua</a></strong>&#8221; her accessories brand is able to make a unique mark and stand out amongst the zillions of Instagram Accessories sale brands. She sources unique, handcrafted jewellery from across India, and brings it down to the women, who love a healthy dollop of bling in their day-to-day life. I&#8217;ve been a happy customer of her since day 1 (literally, I think) and I can only smile with pride looking at how she and her brand had grown steadily over the past months. I couldn&#8217;t help but ask her, &#8220;How?&#8221;, &#8220;How did this all start?&#8221;</p><p>And ever the open-book girl quite surprised me with her answer.</p><p>&#8220;Actually, I used to have a home business since 2011, it was called Spark. Eventually, I got busy and couldn&#8217;t do it. Then in 2016, I briefly worked on it again where made custom books which eventually died down too. But in Feb 2018, I did it on a small scale. But in July, my dad gave me the much-needed monetary push, and I could really stock up products, there was a little risk involved, but you cannot do business without taking any risk!&#8221;</p><p>This was her third time, I couldn&#8217;t imagine, recovering from the first blow, but here she is standing firm in her third try, deftly learning from her previous businesses and moving on and moving big. Didn&#8217;t I say tenacity? She firmly believes in standing tall and rising, believe it enough to have her brand&#8217;s tag line as &#8220;Raising above Stereotypes!&#8221; Coming, to think of it, the name &#8221;<strong>Tulua</strong>&#8221; in itself is quite unique and catchy. &#8220;How did you come up with that and why this particular line of business, knowing about the heavy competition?&#8221; I asked her.</p><p>&#8220;Yeah, I was very sure my brand will be called something with &#8220;rise.&#8221; I could relate it with myself more than anything. I&#8217;m so tired of society telling you&#8217;re dark, don&#8217;t wear that&#8230; your face is small, this that. Fancy earrings are coming in, and a lot of women absolutely love them. But I see them always thinking twice before buying, what will others tell and all that mind voices howling loads and loads of questions. They&#8217;re still in the <em>wear-everything-gold</em> era, even though they don&#8217;t want to be!&#8221; I sighed my agreement to that statement. I love big dangling hoops and everything stone, but now that I am married, I must wear gold, insisted by older women of the family, that it would make me look like, well&#8230; married! Thanks to zomb, I still relevant to that fantastic part of fashion and occasionally indulge myself in buying a couple of earrings from the exquisite collection she displays! How does she finds such beautiful pieces at such varying price range, Is that the whole idea behind Tulua? I asked her and I could almost see her dashing smile (we were conversing over WhatsApp, I can only imagine, she smiled)</p><p>&#8220;Hell, yes!&#8221; She agreed (and she did confirm she smiled). My idea is only to bring the best from all over India under one brand. I always work towards getting something for everyone and in every range. And I&#8217;ve just been lucky that people like what Tulua has to offer. &nbsp;</p><p>I&#8217;ve just started collaborating with designers, and hopefully, someday I could design a line. That&#8217;s the dream!&#8221;</p><p>And that&#8217;s the dream as a customer too! To find everything you need at one place and at a price your purse loves. And Vidhya is ever the Princess Perfect when it comes to customer satisfaction. I remember the first ever time I received kemp necklace set from her! It was the initial days of Tulua; Unfortunately, I had the thread knot of the necklace had cut-off somehow during the courier travel. It was a minor mishap, one that I could quickly fix, so I had sent her a suggestion of giving an extra set of thread in her deliveries in case of such mishaps. I remember her apologising profusely, and the next day, I received a courier with a thread package. Honestly, the packaging and the courier costs more than the thread, but it did leave me with a strong sense of satisfaction and utter trust. &#8220;I am still amazed by that gesture,&#8221; I told her, &#8220;what is your mantra for such amazing standards of customer satisfaction?&#8221; I asked.</p><p>&#8220;I take customer service very seriously! The customer is king, and I think that&#8217;s the rule every business should live by. Sometimes, I just put myself in their place to deal with certain situations, and it&#8217;s worked great until now&#8221; came a simple yet fantastic answer.</p><p>At this point, I am quite glad that I am doing this series. Just the second interview and I am amazed, awe-struck, humbled and so damn proud all-at-once. &#8220;What message do you have for the women out there?&#8221; (And yeah, this would always be my last question)</p><blockquote><p>&#8220;If you have a dream, start already. The world is very competitive, so if you have an idea put it to act before someone else does. And don&#8217;t be let down if others are copying you, that only means you&#8217;re doing something right&#8221;, She pinged back.</p></blockquote><p>&#8220;That&#8217;s quite a positive perspective!&#8221; I thought to myself as I walked to my balcony to have a glimpse that the unusually cloudy sky, all the while thinking about this enthralling woman and her amazing answers, and just then, a whiff of cool breeze brushed past me ever so lightly&#8230; and I smiled.</p><p>PS: Checkout Tulua in Instagram: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/_tulua/">Tulua</a></p> ]]>
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<![CDATA[ Amazing Women Ep.1 - Charanya - All Hats in One ]]>
</title>
<description>
<![CDATA[ School life is a fantastic part of your journey; you learn arithmetic that you never use, learn the physical exercises that you never carry forward, build lasting memories that you never forget, make amazing friends whom you would never let go. ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-1-charanya-all-hats-in-one</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/amazing-women-ep-1-charanya-all-hats-in-one</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Sun, 06 Jan 2019 18:51:39 GMT</pubDate>
<enclosure url="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2d92fbed-6d41-459c-9333-1ecb38bee78f_1280x720.jpeg" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/>
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<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2d92fbed-6d41-459c-9333-1ecb38bee78f_1280x720.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2d92fbed-6d41-459c-9333-1ecb38bee78f_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2d92fbed-6d41-459c-9333-1ecb38bee78f_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2d92fbed-6d41-459c-9333-1ecb38bee78f_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2d92fbed-6d41-459c-9333-1ecb38bee78f_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2d92fbed-6d41-459c-9333-1ecb38bee78f_1280x720.jpeg" width="1280" height="720" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/2d92fbed-6d41-459c-9333-1ecb38bee78f_1280x720.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:720,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:377602,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2d92fbed-6d41-459c-9333-1ecb38bee78f_1280x720.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2d92fbed-6d41-459c-9333-1ecb38bee78f_1280x720.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2d92fbed-6d41-459c-9333-1ecb38bee78f_1280x720.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2d92fbed-6d41-459c-9333-1ecb38bee78f_1280x720.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>School life is a fantastic part of your journey; you learn arithmetic that you never use, learn the physical exercises that you never carry forward, build lasting memories that you never forget, make amazing friends whom you would never let go.</p><p>Whenever I look at my DAV girls Whatsapp group, the list of names would always flash the memories of the group of us in Striped Salwars with white dupattas, double braids that we style to with different hair clips, goofy smiles when our crushes pass by. While I still struggle to find my footing in life, slowly but surely searching my soul to find my calling; I realize, some of these girls have transformed elegantly into magnificent women, handling the responsibilities of home, work, and life in general, with a clear head and a kind heart. They don different hats that life offers them- daughter, wife, mother, employee, artist, entrepreneur; and precious few of them takes that extra mile to wear it all, at once. One such remarkable woman in <strong>Charanya Rangarajan</strong>.</p><p>Charan, as we call her, is a doting mother for her kutti Rithwi, a loving wife, a caring daughter, a protective sister, a devoted employee, and an inspiring entrepreneur who does all of it to perfection. I remember seeing her shy FB posts back in 2014, where she started putting up salwar materials and other assorted accessories for sale; From there it&#8217;s no turning back. I have been amazed by the quality of the products she delivers and the fantastic, loyal customer following she has. &#8220;That is the beauty of having a home business. Your constant encouragement comes from your customers&#8221; she said when I asked her about it.</p><p>She runs <a href="https://www.instagram.com/sparklerz_14/">Sparklerz</a>, a small venture through which she sells clothing materials exclusively for women and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/elixirorganics16/">Elixir Organics</a> where she sells an array of home-made, chemical free skin care products.</p><p>When I asked her how Sparklerz started, she said with a small smile, &#8220;Sparklerz was started in the year 2014. Initially, I started it to save some pocket money for my daily expenses, but gradually It turned out to be a passionate hobby. At the start, I was selling only to friends and relatives, slowly the word spread and now I have a bunch of amazing customers turned friends who turn to me for their apparel/jewelry shopping!&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;It does always start small, doesn&#8217;t it?&#8221; I mused, &#8220;I see that you put up an astounding line of products in Elixir Organics, how did that idea come about, what is your vision for it?&#8221; I asked, my interest piqued.</p><p>&#8220;Elixir is my recent venture about homemade skincare products which are 100% homemade, chemical free and preservative free. I started elixir with a goal in achieving clean and healthy skin using eco-friendly products. Nowadays, even the food we eat contains a lot of chemicals, we cannot control that. But at least we can control what we feed our skin. Our skin goes through a lot from morning to night, it deserves the best pampering which is through natural way. My vision for elixir is putting out natural and eco-friendly products on stage that helps everyone achieve clean and healthy skin without burning a hole in their pocket. At the end of the day, skin care products should help the skin breath, not suffocate it more with harmful chemicals and preservatives. Our next goal is to extend our collection to kids friendly products!&#8221; she said, oozing confidence and determination. This woman no longer looked like the Charan from I school I remembered, she had somewhere turned into a formidable force that I was beginning to admire. But how can one do so much? Especially when she has a child that&#8217;s not even a year old? And, that was the question I blurted out next.</p><p>&#8220;All credit goes to my family who supported me and stood with me through all thick and thins. I have been working in corporate for more than 5 years, and a mom for a year. Frankly, I am able to juggle between the responsibilities due to support from my family who help me manage my time. I work in a full-time job due to financial commitment but being a mom and entrepreneur has become my passion, they are like my lifelines without which I cannot get by. Entrepreneurship is like my escape from reality which keeps me sane in this fast-moving world. There is no dull day in my life as these three balances it equally.&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;It&#8217;s quite a blessing to have an amazing family that supports you no matter what&#8221; I agreed. Though it&#8217;s an absolute advantage, the fire and passion all come from within. Where does the woman get all her courage? Damn! I could never lift a dead cockroach with a broom for the fear that it would come alive by some horrid miracle. &#8220;Weren&#8217;t you scared about any of it?&#8221; I asked, &#8220;I would lose my mind and all my sleep, bothering about the things that could go wrong!&#8221; I said.</p><p>&#8220;The most critical part in a startup is earning the trust of people, through which we can expand our customer base and gain some repetitive and permanent trust. Still many out there hesitate to shop products online, as they find it hard to trust an unknown person with their hard-earned money. It takes a lot of patience and hard work. But once the trust is earned, there is no turning back, that is the biggest victory. Pocket-friendly prices and earning the trust of people will help any small-scale venture become a huge success!&#8221; her voice ringed with absolute conviction. When a woman has a firm idea, a clear goal, the courage to take a sure step forward, with all her innate compassion and empathy intact, she becomes a role model. And, I took it as my imperative duty to share the message this treasure of a woman wanted to share to the womenfolk around her, &#8220;What is the message you want to share with the women out there?&#8221; I asked.</p><p>My only message for women is,</p><blockquote><p>Be independent and believe in yourself especially even after getting married. There is nothing a woman cannot do these days. Try to be an inspiration for the ones close to you. Being independent has a lot of perks, it gives undeterred confidence to cross all hurdles in life</p></blockquote><p>she beamed.</p><p>I could only nod my head in wonder, hoping that I could do a decent job in presenting her story to my small world. I did what I can, leaving you guys to be the judge of it!</p><p>PS: Check out <a href="https://www.instagram.com/sparklerz_14/">sparklerz14</a> &amp; <a href="https://www.instagram.com/elixirorganics16/">elixirorganics16 </a>on Instagram</p> ]]>
</content:encoded>
</item>
<item>
<title>
<![CDATA[ Because, Shame! ]]>
</title>
<description>
<![CDATA[ What makes her pretend that she likes the uncle who insists that she sits on his lap while he tries to cup her delicate back surreptitiously? ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/because-shame</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/because-shame</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Thu, 19 Jul 2018 20:02:22 GMT</pubDate>
<enclosure url="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc7fd86fd-c61d-44d2-a8c7-acac04bf2be4_1280x724.jpeg" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/>
<content:encoded>
<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc7fd86fd-c61d-44d2-a8c7-acac04bf2be4_1280x724.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc7fd86fd-c61d-44d2-a8c7-acac04bf2be4_1280x724.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc7fd86fd-c61d-44d2-a8c7-acac04bf2be4_1280x724.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc7fd86fd-c61d-44d2-a8c7-acac04bf2be4_1280x724.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc7fd86fd-c61d-44d2-a8c7-acac04bf2be4_1280x724.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc7fd86fd-c61d-44d2-a8c7-acac04bf2be4_1280x724.jpeg" width="1280" height="724" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/c7fd86fd-c61d-44d2-a8c7-acac04bf2be4_1280x724.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:724,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:215675,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc7fd86fd-c61d-44d2-a8c7-acac04bf2be4_1280x724.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc7fd86fd-c61d-44d2-a8c7-acac04bf2be4_1280x724.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc7fd86fd-c61d-44d2-a8c7-acac04bf2be4_1280x724.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc7fd86fd-c61d-44d2-a8c7-acac04bf2be4_1280x724.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>What makes her pretend that she likes the uncle who insists that she sits on his lap while he tries to cup her delicate back surreptitiously? Why does she nod her head meekly when he says, &#8220;I&#8217;ll come home tomorrow!&#8221; and later curls herself into a protective ball, willing with all her heart to be invisible?</p><p>What makes her cross the road in wild abandon- with her bowed down;</p><p>Pretending deaf to the catcalls, wolf-whistles and the leery comments, that keeps ringing in her ears even after they&#8217;re long gone?</p><p>What makes her walk that extra mile in a circuitous route pretending to friends that it is her only workout, all the while watching out for that faceless face she wanted to avoid, all the while skittering like a frightened rabbit.</p><p>What makes her squeeze close to the ladies seat and stand even in a sparsely crowded bus, inching away discreetly to not show by her face or actions the acute violation that her body felt at being groped continuously and rubbed against.</p><p>What makes her hide the brutal bite marks with a high back blouse, stifle her wince while she splashes cold water on her womanhood and defeated pride, begging them to forget the hurtful violation of her husband&#8217;s inflated ego and erection.</p><p>What makes her delicately draw down the little gown of her infant girl, trying to protect the innocence and dignity; while her recurring nightmares strips her baby&#8217;s clothes, hope and dreams over and over;</p><p>What silences her palpable anger, her raw pain?</p><p>What suffocates her ability to breath freedom and break free?</p><p>What muffles her loud screams and her passionate dreams?</p><p>Is it the pertinent question &#8220;What would people think?&#8221;</p><p>Is it the thought that&#8217;s seeded in her mind - &#8220;This would ruin your life!&#8220;?</p><p>Is it that one feeling that&#8217;s fed over and over to her by the many generations and layers of a cruel society?</p><p>Is it the manmade feeling call Shame?</p><p>She never screams, fights, retaliates, hopes, dreams, or dares&#8230;</p><p><strong>Because, Shame!</strong></p> ]]>
</content:encoded>
</item>
<item>
<title>
<![CDATA[ The Other Side ]]>
</title>
<description>
<![CDATA[ They told me about the rosy things that I had to feel, ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/the-other-side</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/the-other-side</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Wed, 19 Apr 2017 18:43:11 GMT</pubDate>
<enclosure url="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2f2be894-a1e3-46ea-b914-2324481bf436_1280x853.jpeg" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/>
<content:encoded>
<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2f2be894-a1e3-46ea-b914-2324481bf436_1280x853.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2f2be894-a1e3-46ea-b914-2324481bf436_1280x853.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2f2be894-a1e3-46ea-b914-2324481bf436_1280x853.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2f2be894-a1e3-46ea-b914-2324481bf436_1280x853.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2f2be894-a1e3-46ea-b914-2324481bf436_1280x853.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2f2be894-a1e3-46ea-b914-2324481bf436_1280x853.jpeg" width="1280" height="853" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/2f2be894-a1e3-46ea-b914-2324481bf436_1280x853.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:853,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:172021,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2f2be894-a1e3-46ea-b914-2324481bf436_1280x853.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2f2be894-a1e3-46ea-b914-2324481bf436_1280x853.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2f2be894-a1e3-46ea-b914-2324481bf436_1280x853.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F2f2be894-a1e3-46ea-b914-2324481bf436_1280x853.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>They told me about the rosy things that I had to feel,</p><p>they said it&#8217;ll be a joyful event, a moment of completeness</p><p>and the soothing medicine for my pains to heal.</p><p>And they left me at that, alone, to fend for myself.</p><p>I was scared to hold your wobbly head, and held you gingerly like a piece of glass,</p><p>mentally cursing my MBA professors, for not teaching this in class.</p><p>And came those long sleepless nights, when you decided to play,</p><p>and your father decided to snore away.</p><p>For a person who turned down jobs with a night shift,</p><p>my dear son, this thing felt like a nasty whiff.</p><p>The permutation and combination of diapers I changed while it was dripping,</p><p>it smelt bad, and who am I kidding!</p><p>The hours I spent in the bathroom, almost giving up, crying till my eyes turned red,</p><p>those days my dear son, I yearned and ached and craved, for a good cup of tea and breakfast in my bed&#8230;</p><p>So what made me grit my teeth and walked through it all?</p><p>I am not sure but am betting it&#8217;s the smile you smiled every time you played with the red sponge ball.</p><p>Or the thrill that ran through my spine the first time you said &#8220;mama!&#8221;</p><p>Anyways I learnt, it&#8217;s a phase of my life, where you were the King of my drama.</p><p>But, Oh! My dear son, don&#8217;t get so cute, I still have my revenge planned for you</p><p>Guess who&#8217;s got the weekend diaper duty for your baby sister?</p><p>Haha, the joke&#8217;s on you!</p> ]]>
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</item>
<item>
<title>
<![CDATA[ Just women ]]>
</title>
<description>
<![CDATA[ Ages and ages on, men have called women &#8220;the bright moon&#8221;, &#8220;a glittering star&#8221;, and &#8220;a fluttering angel&#8221;; ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/just-women</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/just-women</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Tue, 28 Mar 2017 07:16:11 GMT</pubDate>
<enclosure url="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91d2e091-a5d2-417c-a1b4-a3ffc4e75750_3962x2641.jpeg" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/>
<content:encoded>
<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91d2e091-a5d2-417c-a1b4-a3ffc4e75750_3962x2641.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91d2e091-a5d2-417c-a1b4-a3ffc4e75750_3962x2641.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91d2e091-a5d2-417c-a1b4-a3ffc4e75750_3962x2641.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91d2e091-a5d2-417c-a1b4-a3ffc4e75750_3962x2641.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91d2e091-a5d2-417c-a1b4-a3ffc4e75750_3962x2641.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91d2e091-a5d2-417c-a1b4-a3ffc4e75750_3962x2641.jpeg" width="1456" height="971" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/91d2e091-a5d2-417c-a1b4-a3ffc4e75750_3962x2641.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:971,&quot;width&quot;:1456,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:1240366,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91d2e091-a5d2-417c-a1b4-a3ffc4e75750_3962x2641.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91d2e091-a5d2-417c-a1b4-a3ffc4e75750_3962x2641.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91d2e091-a5d2-417c-a1b4-a3ffc4e75750_3962x2641.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F91d2e091-a5d2-417c-a1b4-a3ffc4e75750_3962x2641.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>Ages and ages on, men have called women &#8220;the bright moon&#8221;, &#8220;a glittering star&#8221;, and &#8220;a fluttering angel&#8221;;</p><p>And pretty much everything celestial, ethereal and probably unreal.</p><p>But just like you, oh! men, we live and breath, we are just women;</p><p>As much blood, as much lust, and just as much human.</p><p>We are called the weaker sex, isn&#8217;t that a gorgeous misconception ?</p><p>If you claim to be physically strong, then why did the nature make us carry, and let you stop with impregnation?</p><p>You term your ships, your cars and continents a &#8220;she&#8221;, Is it to pay us your respect?</p><p>If yes, then why can&#8217;t you let us sail it or drive it or rule it, why oh, why do you suspect?</p><p>Is it possible to understand the fact, that we - the women, also lust ?</p><p>That we can be loud, dirty, and wild - and even for us, the F word is a must ?</p><p>Then, why do we have to be violated, raped, acid attacked- like lab rats, when we firmly say a No ?</p><p>We are still out there fighting on the roads and begging for our rights to live, and our right to say &#8220;Yes, so?&#8221;</p><p>We can wear spacesuits and coat suits and tracksuits and swimsuits all with equal grace,</p><p>Yet we are killed even before we&#8217;re born and never valued more than just a pretty face;</p><p>Depression, oppression, aggression, criticism, cynicism we face them all as much as you do,</p><p>Just don&#8217;t think, it stops there, we have the postpartum too.</p><p>We know it&#8217;s difficult to wrap your head around this, but it&#8217;s really a simple thing we ask you to do;</p><p>Stop objectifying, mummifying and angelizing us, we&#8217;re sick of it all; Just equalize us to all of you, that - just that would do&#8230;</p><p>For we are just women;</p><p>As much blood, as much lust, and just as much human.</p> ]]>
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</item>
<item>
<title>
<![CDATA[ From the Ashes, With Fear ]]>
</title>
<description>
<![CDATA[ It was hot. ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/from-the-ashes-with-fear</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/from-the-ashes-with-fear</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Sun, 12 Feb 2017 18:33:14 GMT</pubDate>
<enclosure url="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa7cc49ae-fa8a-4b1a-893e-40f3b5ff3240_1280x871.jpeg" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/>
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<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa7cc49ae-fa8a-4b1a-893e-40f3b5ff3240_1280x871.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa7cc49ae-fa8a-4b1a-893e-40f3b5ff3240_1280x871.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa7cc49ae-fa8a-4b1a-893e-40f3b5ff3240_1280x871.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa7cc49ae-fa8a-4b1a-893e-40f3b5ff3240_1280x871.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa7cc49ae-fa8a-4b1a-893e-40f3b5ff3240_1280x871.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa7cc49ae-fa8a-4b1a-893e-40f3b5ff3240_1280x871.jpeg" width="1280" height="871" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/a7cc49ae-fa8a-4b1a-893e-40f3b5ff3240_1280x871.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:871,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:336481,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa7cc49ae-fa8a-4b1a-893e-40f3b5ff3240_1280x871.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa7cc49ae-fa8a-4b1a-893e-40f3b5ff3240_1280x871.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa7cc49ae-fa8a-4b1a-893e-40f3b5ff3240_1280x871.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa7cc49ae-fa8a-4b1a-893e-40f3b5ff3240_1280x871.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>It was hot. It was hotter than the milk my mommy gave me every evening. My big brother used to play matchstick game, and my mother scolded saying the fire was dangerous, it&#8217;ll burn the skin. So, why did this uncle not know it? He poured petrol on me and lighted a match stick. I remembered my father scolding saying it was dangerous. The uncle threw the hot stick on me. The fire started spreading all over my dress. My favourite pink gown was slowly becoming black. I started crying. I wanted to tell the uncle to stop, but I couldn&#8217;t speak. He had gagged mouth and tied my hands and legs. I couldn&#8217;t move. The fire started running all over me. It touched my skin, and I winced. I looked at the uncle with pleading eyes; he just saw me for a moment and ran away. I closed my eyes as the unbearable pain started building in my body, the girl parts the uncle touched were already in bad pain, but this was too much. My mommy&#8217;s beatings were never this painful. I wanted to tell my mommy that I would be a good girl. I wanted my daddy to come take me out from the fire. A foul smell started filling my nose. I couldn&#8217;t bear it. I closed my eyes shut.</p><p>Suddenly it felt good. I felt like I was floating around. I could still see the fire, but I could see other images. I could see my mommy packing lunch for me, I could see daddy searching for his socks, and I could see my brother hiding daddy&#8217;s socks. Mommy can always find where my brother hides the socks. I could see my birthday celebrations in the big hotel and the blue Barbie my friend Rithika gifted me. I was playing with that evening. Suddenly the evening came to my view. I watched it all happen right in front of me once more.</p><p>I was playing with my Barbie in the portico, wearing my favourite pink gown. My mommy was making my sandwich in the kitchen. I saw a shadow and looked up. It was the uncle on the third floor. He was a friendly uncle who sometimes moved like he was dancing. He smelt terrible. He smiled at me, and I smiled back.</p><p>&#8220;Want to play with me?&#8221; he asked after looking at me for a long time.</p><p>&#8220;No Uncle! I&#8217;ll play all by myself&#8221; I said to him smiling</p><p>&#8220;Come on, kid! Let&#8217;s play!&#8221; he leered.</p><p>I panicked and opened my mouth to call my mommy. He jumped on me suddenly closed my mouth with his one hand and carried me with the other. He ran up the staircase, unlocked his door, threw me on the floor and closed the door behind him. He scooped me up again, and I screamed. He closed my mouth with his hand and pinched me hard. He carried me to the other room and took a smelly handkerchief from his pant pocket. He thrust it in my mouth. I tried to spit it out, but he threw me on the bed and quickly tied a cloth around my mouth. I tried to control my tears as my breathing became suffocated. He pulled my wrists together and tied it close with a rope. He did the same with my ankles. I was petrified; I couldn&#8217;t move.</p><p>For two hours, the man paced to and fro while I watched him with fear. Downstairs I could hear my mommy and daddy shouting out my name. I wanted to call back to my mommy asking her to come up, but I couldn&#8217;t do it. He hurried his pace. I could hear my brother and Sarala Aunty shout my name. After some time somebody knocked at the door. The uncle threw a blanket on me and went to answer the door. I could hear Sarala Aunty talking to him, asking about me, I slid a little and reached the corner of the bed, but the uncle shut the door and came back in.</p><p>&#8220;What do you think you&#8217;re doing?&#8221; he asked in a scary tone.</p><p>&#8220;I raised my pinky finger and showed him&#8221; my eyes pleading. The uncle was so scary that I wanted to pee.</p><p>&#8220;Come!&#8221; he carried me to the bathroom and put me on the toilet seat. I looked down at my tied up hands and looked back at him.</p><p>&#8220;Oh, what the fuck&#8221; he muttered and reached up throw my skirt. I panicked and started struggling. He was going to touch my girl part. It was a bad touch. I shook my head vigorously. He smiled then. He smiled a cruel that was scarier than the other things that he had done. I cried as he carried me back to the bed. He lifted me into a sitting position and removed my gown. He tore my teddy bear panties and stared at me.</p><p>&#8220;Oh, my!&#8221; he smacked his lips and smiled.</p><p>He pushed me down and bit me hard everywhere he could reach. He touched and tasted all the places my mommy had said as wrong in the &#8220;bad touch&#8221; game. Finally, he removed his clothes and cut down the rope that bound my ankles. I tried to kick him down, but he slapped me hard across my face. I broke down with fear. But the pain across my face was numbed by the terrible pain that suddenly spiked up in my girl part and my stomach. I could see the uncle doing something, and the pain kept coming every time he came closer, suddenly he went down and started putting his mouth in my girl part, I fought hard not to pee as my mother had said not pee on the bed and it was bad manners. But I couldn&#8217;t stop myself as the uncle kept licking there. I kicked my legs as the salty pale liquid started flowing and the uncle once again moved up and kept pushing. The pain started building to agony, and soon everything blacked out.</p><p>I woke up wishing it was all a nightmare, but the pain between my legs told me a different. The bed was wet and smelly with urine, blood. My body had something white and sticky like glue all over me. I wanted to throw up. The uncle was dressed up, and he looked at me with shock when I woke up.</p><p>&#8220;So, you&#8217;re not dead!&#8221; he murmured as he came near me. He smelt awful.</p><p>I kicked him with my leg, and the action made him furious. He grabbed my neck and started squeezing hard. I struggled for my breath trying to move my hands. He tightened his grip, and suddenly everything became dark.</p><p>I saw it all as I floated about, but I didn&#8217;t feel a thing. I saw that my body was completely burnt and lay there as a terrible mess. I felt wise; maybe it was a thing. I could see the stars clearly, and an angel with white wings that looked like my mommy opened her hands wide open to receive me.</p><p>&#8220;It is like going to bed&#8221; she whispered gently.</p><p>&#8220;I am supposed to pray before I go to bed&#8221;, I smiled back</p><p>&#8220;Yes, dear!&#8221;, she smiled kindly. &#8220;Say your prayers!&#8221;</p><p>&#8220;Dear God!&#8221; I whispered &#8220;Please don&#8217;t let this happen to any of the girls,&#8221; I said, &#8220;Or any of the boys!&#8221; I finished and walked on.</p> ]]>
</content:encoded>
</item>
<item>
<title>
<![CDATA[ The Day of Dim Dim ]]>
</title>
<description>
<![CDATA[ Velachery is an astounding amalgamation of people, culture, mosquitoes and concrete. ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/day-dim-dim</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/day-dim-dim</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Thu, 19 Jan 2017 17:58:09 GMT</pubDate>
<enclosure url="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F628d4979-5682-4eef-b4e6-a3fbcdaab20c_2592x1944.jpeg" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/>
<content:encoded>
<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F628d4979-5682-4eef-b4e6-a3fbcdaab20c_2592x1944.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F628d4979-5682-4eef-b4e6-a3fbcdaab20c_2592x1944.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F628d4979-5682-4eef-b4e6-a3fbcdaab20c_2592x1944.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F628d4979-5682-4eef-b4e6-a3fbcdaab20c_2592x1944.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F628d4979-5682-4eef-b4e6-a3fbcdaab20c_2592x1944.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F628d4979-5682-4eef-b4e6-a3fbcdaab20c_2592x1944.jpeg" width="1456" height="1092" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/628d4979-5682-4eef-b4e6-a3fbcdaab20c_2592x1944.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:1092,&quot;width&quot;:1456,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:2110991,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F628d4979-5682-4eef-b4e6-a3fbcdaab20c_2592x1944.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F628d4979-5682-4eef-b4e6-a3fbcdaab20c_2592x1944.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F628d4979-5682-4eef-b4e6-a3fbcdaab20c_2592x1944.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F628d4979-5682-4eef-b4e6-a3fbcdaab20c_2592x1944.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>Velachery is an astounding amalgamation of people, culture, mosquitoes and concrete. Ten years ago we prided ourselves with the extraordinary amounts of trees and deer that inhabited the Checkpost area, today we boast about the marble marvel called Phoenix Market City, sipping a cuppa from the Starbucks. One such prominent chrome and glass structures that dominate the Velachery area is the &#8221;<em>Saravana Stores</em>&#8221; building (formerly a nameless, forgotten data centre that housed some poor IT folks)</p><p><em>Saravana Stores</em> is your go-to place when you have:</p><ol><li><p>A mid-month bra crisis</p></li><li><p>Your mother&#8217;s shopaholic alibi rears her head up with a vengeance</p></li><li><p>A dreary day and desperately in need some entertainment</p></li><li><p>All the above</p></li></ol><p>I chose option 4.</p><p>The shop is everything you imagine it to be. From the vendors who milk your money with flashy pink teddy bear balloons to the cheap tasting popcorns.</p><p>I walked past the golden fake archway that threatens to fall any time on you, the unsmiling woman with a faded white silk saree, the humongous crowd, the malfunctioning ACs that work surprisingly well only near the doors fascinated by the sheer amount of people.</p><p>I dragged my fascinated mum through the crowd and paved my way towards the elevator. After ten futile minutes waiting for the elevator, we huffed and puffed through the stairs to reach the fifth floor. Ah! Our lingerie destination! Now, finding a decent bra in the huge silver trays among fellow female folks is a skill and right up my mother&#8217;s alley. She launched herself into the search with frenzy and came out with an array of black, blue, fluorescent, pale pink and God-knows-what colour bras. I chose the black one and resolutely shook my head in negative to the rest. As she went back to rummaging the bra tubs, I turned towards the panties tub, and my world tilted.</p><p>I howled with laughter. I howled like a lunatic werewolf on a full moon day. I never knew that women could wear panties of such variety, whether it was to humour the men who get to see it or to arouse them I would never know. There were Mauves, Opalines, Cerulean, Crimsons and Canaries. There were laces, patterns, zig-zags and lions. I caught the eyes of one of the sales girl, and she started giggling along with me, It passed on to the kind looking lady nearby her, the stern looking aunty adjacent to her and together we rummaged the whole tub for thirty long minutes- laughing, smirking and of course, buying. It was a mind-boggling community event.</p><p>What am I trying to say by all this? I don&#8217;t know. Just take your mum to <em>Saravana Stores</em></p> ]]>
</content:encoded>
</item>
<item>
<title>
<![CDATA[ Definitions, Dimensions, and Nothings ]]>
</title>
<description>
<![CDATA[ I would say it started at nothing. ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/definitions-dimensions-nothings</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/definitions-dimensions-nothings</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Sun, 27 Nov 2016 14:39:22 GMT</pubDate>
<enclosure url="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0fe2ca5b-bc75-42c2-9a88-49d23c3ff05c_1280x853.jpeg" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/>
<content:encoded>
<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0fe2ca5b-bc75-42c2-9a88-49d23c3ff05c_1280x853.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0fe2ca5b-bc75-42c2-9a88-49d23c3ff05c_1280x853.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0fe2ca5b-bc75-42c2-9a88-49d23c3ff05c_1280x853.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0fe2ca5b-bc75-42c2-9a88-49d23c3ff05c_1280x853.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0fe2ca5b-bc75-42c2-9a88-49d23c3ff05c_1280x853.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0fe2ca5b-bc75-42c2-9a88-49d23c3ff05c_1280x853.jpeg" width="1280" height="853" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/0fe2ca5b-bc75-42c2-9a88-49d23c3ff05c_1280x853.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:853,&quot;width&quot;:1280,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:155451,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0fe2ca5b-bc75-42c2-9a88-49d23c3ff05c_1280x853.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0fe2ca5b-bc75-42c2-9a88-49d23c3ff05c_1280x853.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0fe2ca5b-bc75-42c2-9a88-49d23c3ff05c_1280x853.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F0fe2ca5b-bc75-42c2-9a88-49d23c3ff05c_1280x853.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>I would say it started at nothing. But then, everything does, doesn&#8217;t it? And one fine winter morning you gather up all your nothings and your coffee; you sit sipping your cuppa and think about all your nothings&#8230;</p><p>When you realize it is <em>everything</em>.</p><p>My blog was a fun experiment that started way back in December 2011. LN gifted &#8220;merila.gln.me&#8221; to me five years ago. It was brand new, wonderful and absolutely ready to rock. Three posts in rapid fire mode and Bam! It was forgotten. Remember that little keyboard that was gifted to you when you were five years old? For the first six months, you ate with it, slept with it, played it all the time and so well that your mom boasted that you were going to be the next A. R.Rahman. Soon, other toys came up, other interests dragged you away and your little keyboard was left to gather dust on the loft. After few years you would have seen some dramas in life; out of boredom, curiosity, regret and almost nothing else to do, you go back and clean your house. And that&#8217;s when you would go back to your loft. You would see that little keyboard, dusty from years of negligence yet surreal, pure and untouched. All the happy memories would come back rushing and you would hear yourself chuckle with a happy tear in your eyes when you touch one of those little keys that make the same sweet sound that you so loved. It becomes a memoir, a token of happy times, a four-leaved clover that you would hold for luck and love.</p><p>That keyboard is my blog.</p><p>I dusted it and brought it back to life in 2014. When all else was bleak, that was my ray of sunshine. An idea would spark when I take bath and I hold it close in my thoughts till wee hours of the night when I could let it flow free. They were the little mirrors that reflected the many shades of the society. Those dreadful nights when I desperately updated resume and wrote sample articles for interviews, an empty white MS Word document was my only point of recess. I created stories that I felt were nothings. I started every story I wrote with a chant &#8220;Here goes nothing&#8221;. I created those nothings without realizing that they were creating me, molding the lump of clay that was me into something more profound, real and something very much&#8230; ME. I realized it was time to make it my name, my identity, a definition of who I am. Towards the end of 2014 &#8220;merila.gln.me&#8221; became <a href="https://www.krupawrites.com">Krupawrites.com</a> from that I guess there&#8217;s no stopping. We&#8217;ve enjoyed occasional breaks, little mishaps, and month long fights but she&#8217;s the sleek beauty who keeps me running. She is the symphony I strung together by my many little nothings.</p><p>This little article is a dedication to Lakshmi Narayanan; because you should ever be thankful for that person who gave you your little keyboard that paved way for your symphonies; also because I owe him his own Island and collection of cars and this is a tiny bribe to make him go a little easy on me. Dude! I&#8217;ll get there please bear with me.</p><p>Until my next post, Ciao!</p> ]]>
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</item>
<item>
<title>
<![CDATA[ The Curse of Vellachery ]]>
</title>
<description>
<![CDATA[ This probably looks like a picture of badly maintained roads on a rainy day. ]]>
</description>
<link>https://www.krupawrites.com/p/the-curse-of-vellachery</link>
<guid isPermaLink="true">https://www.krupawrites.com/p/the-curse-of-vellachery</guid>
<dc:creator>
<![CDATA[ Krupa K ]]>
</dc:creator>
<pubDate>Sun, 22 May 2016 16:51:58 GMT</pubDate>
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<content:encoded>
<![CDATA[ <div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fb35eeaba-2382-4b00-bc3d-e75d445c4a33_1024x576.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fb35eeaba-2382-4b00-bc3d-e75d445c4a33_1024x576.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fb35eeaba-2382-4b00-bc3d-e75d445c4a33_1024x576.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fb35eeaba-2382-4b00-bc3d-e75d445c4a33_1024x576.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fb35eeaba-2382-4b00-bc3d-e75d445c4a33_1024x576.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fb35eeaba-2382-4b00-bc3d-e75d445c4a33_1024x576.jpeg" width="1024" height="576" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/b35eeaba-2382-4b00-bc3d-e75d445c4a33_1024x576.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:576,&quot;width&quot;:1024,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:131599,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:true,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fb35eeaba-2382-4b00-bc3d-e75d445c4a33_1024x576.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fb35eeaba-2382-4b00-bc3d-e75d445c4a33_1024x576.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fb35eeaba-2382-4b00-bc3d-e75d445c4a33_1024x576.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fb35eeaba-2382-4b00-bc3d-e75d445c4a33_1024x576.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" fetchpriority="high"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p>This probably looks like a picture of badly maintained roads on a rainy day. On the contrary, this is the picture of my locality in Velachery taken around 5.30 pm today evening. With the weather forecasting long sunny days ahead, what&#8217;s with the roads here flooded fresh with water?</p><p>This is not the water from up above, this is the water from down below. Nothing has changed since December&#8217;s flood in Velachery. When all other places where filled with rainwater, my area was submerged with sewage water that started bubbling out as soon as the first batch of rains hit the ground. This is the story ever since. Our sewages start overflowing whenever it feels under the weather. The sewage system is blocked for over ten days now. Complaint has been lodged, but no action so far from the officials concerned. Bathrooms are flooded, and to prevent further damage nearby apartments pump out the excess water on a daily basis onto the roads. That is the scene you see in the picture above. The dirty water pumped out, floods the roads without any proper channel for release. People walk on these roads on a daily basis, and our doctors are super busy with the increasing number of skin infections and fever cases.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6d4cee76-8d8d-431c-9029-41067907c7cb_1024x576.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6d4cee76-8d8d-431c-9029-41067907c7cb_1024x576.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6d4cee76-8d8d-431c-9029-41067907c7cb_1024x576.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6d4cee76-8d8d-431c-9029-41067907c7cb_1024x576.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6d4cee76-8d8d-431c-9029-41067907c7cb_1024x576.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6d4cee76-8d8d-431c-9029-41067907c7cb_1024x576.jpeg" width="1024" height="576" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/6d4cee76-8d8d-431c-9029-41067907c7cb_1024x576.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:576,&quot;width&quot;:1024,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:74274,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6d4cee76-8d8d-431c-9029-41067907c7cb_1024x576.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6d4cee76-8d8d-431c-9029-41067907c7cb_1024x576.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6d4cee76-8d8d-431c-9029-41067907c7cb_1024x576.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F6d4cee76-8d8d-431c-9029-41067907c7cb_1024x576.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p></p><p>This picture is the backyard of my house. The backyard gets flooded every time one takes a bath. This is the case every single household in my locality. Velachery has become a big name for so many different things. We have big shopping complexes and new landmarks coming up every day. But this the true face of this low lying area in all its gory detail. There is a swearing in ceremony happening with all the grandeur tomorrow for the government that ruled last week to go to work this week. Instead of spending big bucks on unnecessary luxuries, it would be loads better if they could mend basic amenities that people require. This is Velachery, one of the busiest and well-developed hubs of Chennai. I cannot imagine the plight of other developing areas. This is not an attention-seeking ramble of a single person, but the silent cry of a community. We just hope it is heard.</p><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-imag" target="_blank" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc57342da-d832-459c-b69d-7de17a204103_1024x576.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc57342da-d832-459c-b69d-7de17a204103_1024x576.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc57342da-d832-459c-b69d-7de17a204103_1024x576.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc57342da-d832-459c-b69d-7de17a204103_1024x576.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_webp,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc57342da-d832-459c-b69d-7de17a204103_1024x576.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc57342da-d832-459c-b69d-7de17a204103_1024x576.jpeg" width="1024" height="576" data-attrs="{&quot;src&quot;:&quot;https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/c57342da-d832-459c-b69d-7de17a204103_1024x576.jpeg&quot;,&quot;srcNoWatermark&quot;:null,&quot;fullscreen&quot;:null,&quot;imageSize&quot;:null,&quot;height&quot;:576,&quot;width&quot;:1024,&quot;resizeWidth&quot;:null,&quot;bytes&quot;:104749,&quot;alt&quot;:null,&quot;title&quot;:null,&quot;type&quot;:&quot;image/jpeg&quot;,&quot;href&quot;:null,&quot;belowTheFold&quot;:false,&quot;topImage&quot;:false,&quot;internalRedirect&quot;:null,&quot;isProcessing&quot;:false}" class="sizing-normal" alt="" srcset="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_424,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc57342da-d832-459c-b69d-7de17a204103_1024x576.jpeg 424w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_848,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc57342da-d832-459c-b69d-7de17a204103_1024x576.jpeg 848w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1272,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc57342da-d832-459c-b69d-7de17a204103_1024x576.jpeg 1272w, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fc57342da-d832-459c-b69d-7de17a204103_1024x576.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></div></div></a></figure></div><p></p> ]]>
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