My Daughters’ Mum, with Natasha Badhwar

I had a lot of fun putting together this post for


Red Polka‘s ‘aww-some’ edition- Cherubs’ Trunk this week is filled with adorable stuff for kids, you can buy. For our #TuesdayTale we invited Natasha Badhwar to be our story-teller. Badhwar is the mother of three beautiful daughters. She is columnist, a film-maker and a design entrepreneur. Her fortnightly column in Mint Lounge is called “My Daughters’ Mum“. We totally dig her narrative and captivating writing style. Today she shares some scintillating nuances that make her relationship with her daughters a special one. She shares a slice of her life, and tells us all about her girls (little women, as she calls them), her shopping habits, and everything about all the kids in her family! Read on, you’ll go “awww”! Natasha-Badhwar-creative-for-blog-whatsapp-etcLove. Shop. Kids by Natasha Badhwar 

I am the mother of three little women between the ages of 6 and 12. Contrary to expectations, children’s clothes salesmen don’t…

View original post 667 more words

The Zamindar’s grandson and his wife

The Zamindar’s granddaughter-in-law has a camera and a twitter account.

The Zamindar’s grandson is on a train.
He knows where the broad gauge changes to a metre gauge.
He is rescuing so many people at one time he gets confused between them.
He gets angry.

He is in transit.

The Zamindar’s grand-daughter-in-law was a child in a small town.
She is a big city girl.
She grows small plants in old bottles.
She misses him very much.

The Zamindar’s grandson is his mother’s son.
He is deeply secure inside him.
He is rich and he smiles widely.

The Zamindar’s daughter gets abandonment anxiety.
She wakes up at 2 am every night.
She checks the notifications on her phone.
She checks on the children in their beds.
She puts off the lights sometimes.
Her mother is an insomniac.

The Zamindar’s grandson has planted trees around his home.
He has built a home for his family.
He builds homes for everyone.
He knows where home is.
He is always travelling between his homes.
He is welcome everywhere.

The Zamindar’s granddaughter-in-law can barely stay at home.
She is at home when she is travelling.
She does not like arriving.
She is learning to reach home.
She has a meltdown when she gets home
Nothing has changed
Because the mess is inside her.

The Zamindar’s granddaughter-in-law has gone to receive her husband.
He is on his way back home from home.
They argue a lot.
They are getting better at arguing.
The Zamindar’s grandson loves his wife.
There is a reason they are together.

The Zamindar’s grandson has unexplained body ache.
He forgets to take his medicines.
He gets angry with his wife when she falls ill.
His anger amuses her.
You want to say, “I love you,” she says to him.
“Be an adult,” he says to her.

He loves her.
He has no idea why.

Fear of Writing

I usually have no patience with going back in time and fantasising about what I should have done differently. I rarely read pieces where people write advice to their younger selves.

Today I want to give my younger self one permission. Me in my 20s.

Write. Write everyday. Express yourself.

All kinds of stuff has come right up to my throat…and I won’t start typing.

I want to tell 20 year old me to write freely all the time, so that the me who is now 40 isn’t SO SCARED OF WRITING anymore!!

I’m also putting fear out here in the open…so that it discovers what a lovely world there is out here and slinks away.

Fear, go away. Don’t be silly. You are grown up now. Go travel.


I want to go out today. 

It’s a great day. An April day in Delhi when the weather is great. It was raining in the morning. 

It’s Good Friday today. School is shut, the children are home today. I can’t work (write, edit, Ochre Sky) when they are at home. 

I want to go out. It’s a perfect day to go out into the city. I want to wear a saree and go to the National Museum today. 

Sahar and Aliza are not interested. Their lack of interest is like a dead weight. I cannot lug it around with me. 

I am sad. I am writing to feel lighter. I want to go out. They want to stay at home. 

I will go out next week when they are at school. I shall be my own child. My own companion.