Modern grief, the kind that lives on the internet, is a whole world away from old-world grief, the kind you preserved inside of you. The modern take on grieving is to share and tweet about it.
For my best friend, who lost his mother recently, the World Cup became an antidote. With every Team India victory, I believed that its only purpose was to make my friend feel again. But when the team crashed out, we sensed an ending. It reminded us that the pain of losing a loved one is real – nobody could, and should, take it away.
Congratulations, Mumbai, your apathy truly deserves an applause. Your tax money is used to build roads, repair them, so when there are pothole-related casualties, you are paying for your own death. The biopic on the city should ideally be titled “Bombay, the City that Never Feels”.
Game of Thrones has painted perhaps the glummest picture of love ever conceived in popular culture. Love does not last or make us better persons. Instead, it corrupts, handicaps, and burdens as much as any other responsibility in the world.
Here’s a reason to cheer on a gloomy day: Our Maternal Mortality Rate has dropped by 22 per cent. That means nearly 1,000 fewer women die because of pregnancy-related complications in the country each month.
From inaugurations of events like the IPL to star-crossed lovers in our films staring dreamily into the distance as the sky lights up with fireworks, we’re hostage to the belief that no celebrations are complete until a few rockets have been fired into the night sky.
I struggle to understand people’s apprehension toward daughters performing the last rites of their parents. The act of seeing the last physical trace of your loved one be engulfed in the fire is essential to getting closure, to realising that we will never see them in the physical realm anymore.