tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27869969699125830572024-03-13T05:14:39.260-07:00Lepidus vox vocismeena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-88899185202903261312012-09-04T11:48:00.000-07:002012-09-04T11:49:26.317-07:00Bajji, Bonda and Bournvita <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There are three things that I associate with Bangalore, rain and brilliant weather- Bajji, Bonda and Bournvita. Yes. ALL three of them.<br />
<br />
Daddy and I used to have them all the time during monsoon. I can close my eyes and remember the brown sofas. I would cozy myself in the corner, by the window, often looking out through the swing and the trees to see if Raju had gotten us our treats by then. To keep me from my usual restlessness, Daddy would prepare (okay, he wouldn't really, but he would get someone to do it) a nice BIG cup of hot Bournvita with more Bournvita than milk in it. It would make me extremely happy because I loved cloudy Bangalore weather. Sure, the Sun made it beautiful and what not, but there's a certain coziness to cloudy weather you cannot feel anytime else. Sometimes we would read silently, or play monopoly or scrabble. (Scrabble usually, Daddy often got impatient while playing monopoly.) Occasionally, we would play carom if Raju was around. All this while chomping on hot, delicious <i>mensinkayi </i>bajji and aloo bonda. If I dared enough, I would ask for another cup of Bournvita, and if it wasn't too close to Mum's arrival from office, I would get it.<br />
<br />
Today, when I woke up, it took me half a minute to register that I wasn't in Bangalore anymore. Rather, I was half across the country in my dull room in Calcutta. Yet, I cannot help but remember the rain that reminds me of home. </div>
meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-12298693133573677732012-09-02T01:31:00.002-07:002012-09-04T11:35:23.785-07:00We Remember, Rover. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b>20th October, 1988 </b><br />
<br />
It was one of those perfect evenings when dusk was sprayed with a chill Bangalore mist. October in Bangalore is such a beautiful month, Leila thought. She laughed thinking about how it would be in Chennai- hot, humid, probably raining. Her Cocker Spaniel, Brownie, whined in the background of her thoughts.<br />
"Brownie," she said, "Can you believe I'm 30 years old and I feel like I'm already going through a mid-life crisis?"<br />
<br />
He barked. As if acknowledging her thoughts.<br />
<br />
As she looked up, she couldn't believe her eyes. Her husband, Ram was smiling from ear to ear, and in one hand he carried the cutest black puppy- with a yellow (her favourite colour) around it's neck.<br />
<br />
"Ram?" she asked<br />
<br />
"Happy Birthday, Leila" he said, placing the puppy in her arms. He smiled as she fondled the dog.<br />
<br />
<b>May, 1995 </b><br />
<br />
3 year old Maya sat on her grandmother's kitchen counter as her father attempted to make her breakfast.<br />
<br />
"It's not fair" she said, "Rover ALWAYS gets more food than I do."<br />
<br />
"Well," he father said, "He is bigger than you."<br />
<br />
Maya stuck out her tongue.<br />
<br />
"Don't stick out your tongue" Ram said, "It's rude."<br />
<br />
"Rover does it ALL the time."<br />
<br />
"Well, Rover is a dog."<br />
<br />
"Huff." she exclaimed. " I WANT FOOD!"<br />
<br />
<b>November 1999 </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
"Okay, Rover" an older Maya said to her dog, "Slow down!"<br />
<br />
This dog is exasperating, she thought. Walks too much!<br />
<br />
She was panting when she got back home. Leila looked up at her daughter.<br />
<br />
"Give you a hard time?" she joked<br />
<br />
"No." Maya said, "He's just..well, too energetic. Avva nearly disowned him because he kept jumping in and out of her Lily pond thinking it was a pool of some sort."<br />
<br />
Leila snorted.<br />
<br />
"What" Maya said, "It's true!"<br />
<br />
<b>April 2002 </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
"No." Maya said, "NO."<br />
<br />
It was clear that she had been crying.<br />
<br />
"You can't" she wailed. Leila tried to comfort her, she pushed her away.<br />
<br />
"Maya," she said, fighting tears back herself, "Rover's really really sick. If we make him live, he's going to be in more pain."<br />
<br />
"No." she said, weeping.<br />
<br />
She ran to her dog and hugged him so tight, that neither of them could breathe. "I love you Rover, I'm never ever letting you go."<br />
<br />
Nearly ten years later, she still hasn't. Let him go.<br />
<br />
We Remember you, Rover.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-60401653889431231822012-08-21T07:02:00.001-07:002012-08-21T07:02:15.976-07:00Being Ten Again<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Last week, when my roommate went home to Bombay for a week, I didn't quite like the idea of staying all alone on the 3rd floor of the girls hostel. I had gone home the previous weekend, so there wasn't much for me to do in a hostel half empty and extremely depressing. I decided to bunk in with two of my friends, Kaavya and Sandra on the 5th floor. It was like being at one of those girly pre-teen sleepovers, where Kaavya and I discussed a lot of our artistic interests. I was pleasantly surprised when I discovered that we shared the same taste in English literature, and more so, Japanese anime.<br />
<br />
I absolutely LOVE Japanese anime. Especially Cardcaptor Sakura. Big fan of that show. Last semester, whenever I felt depressed, or just sick of being an adult, I started seeing old episodes of the show and it made me feel (atleast for a little while) happy and free because I felt as if I was a ten year old again. Anyway, Kaavya tells me about some pretty awesome anime fan fiction online, and in two days I was completely hooked on to the numerous chapters on fan fiction. I had nothing else to do, except freak out at the sight disgustingly obese lizards in my room and attempt at chasing them OUT of my room, in vain.<br />
<br />
Doesn't it feel good to be a kid again, even if is for a little while? I mean, we have our whole lives to be adults right? Sometimes, I feel my childhood was cut short in a lot of ways, maybe that was for the best. But, what makes me feel better is that can always revisit it during times like these.<br />
<br />
P.S.- I really go all "Awwwww" at the Sakura and Li moments.<br />
<br />
P.S 2- The author of the fan fiction, Wish-chan, deserves a big thumps up for her fan fiction. :)<br />
<br />
If you're ALSO a fan of Cardcaptors and want to read some pretty awesome fanfiction- <a href="http://www.wishluv.revolutionhosting.net/newtrials.htm">http://www.wishluv.revolutionhosting.net/newtrials.htm</a></div>
meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-87756981810189685442012-08-12T08:01:00.002-07:002012-08-12T08:01:44.977-07:00The Change in the Game Part III / My Leila<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"One is not born a woman, but becomes one."<br />
- Simone de Beauvoir<br />
<br />
I cannot help but agree with one of the most well known feminists of the 20th century. In this post, I shall tell you the story of a woman I know. A woman who inspires me every day, and pushes me to do better every minute of my time. Her name is Leila.<br />
<br />
Leila's mother never wanted a daughter. She was typical of the narrow minded 1950s Indian mindset where boys were the be all and end all of all forms of family wealth. So obviously, when Leila was born, she was disappointed. Leila was smarter than most kids at school, and even though the family had to move all over the country, she would quickly adapt herself to the new ways of her ever changing life. Leila knew she was smart, and put her best use to her brains. She knew her mother would never understand. That she, she could do as well as her brothers. Maybe better. Much better.<br />
<br />
By the time she was 23, Leila had 3 degrees to her credit and her parents were finding it hard to find a suitable match for her. No. She wouldn't marry a man who was going to use her as a maidservant. Never. Would she ever find such a man? She did. And the minute she did, she married him. It was 1982, and men who were liberal and encouraged their wives and sisters to study were rare. She knew Ram was a liberal, and her next 6 degrees were credited to him. Together they lived their life, studying and looking after their wonderful dogs, doing what they do best.<br />
<br />
Leila inspires me because she never gave up hope, or strength. She never said no when most people said she was gone and done. She always proved them wrong. The troubles she faced, she faced. There were no two ways about it. This is what makes a woman, her life. Not her birth.<br />
<br />
Here's to our unique identity. </div>meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-72769594440281184272012-08-11T10:52:00.002-07:002012-08-11T10:52:43.471-07:00For the love of filter kaapi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm kind of hopeless sometimes. Well, even more than hopeless. After an entire year at law school, I still feel homesick sometimes. (For the love of filter coffee.) I wonder if it's okay to feel homesick at times, even after the entire "oh, I've left home. I'm an adult now and I live off suitcases" life status.<br />
Last week, I read Roshi Fernando's "Homesick". I have to admit, a delightful insight into the lives of Sri Lankan immigrants in the UK. Yet, hanging in the entire spirit of the book was the feeling of homesickness. To be back in Sri Lanka. And do Sri Lankan things. The way Sri Lankans do it.<br />
<br />
Wherever you are, for however long, there's still that panging feeling in your heart which will only go away when you're-inevitably-home. Home is not a place where you've always been happy, necessarily. It's the place where your heart has witnesses both heaviness and light-heartedness. The place, where you will always find, assurance and support. And Hope. It's a safe place. For the risk of sounding cliched, home is where the heart is. I'm sitting in an ordinary room on an ordinary bed. The walls around me are pale blue, not very different from my room in the lizard infested fungus ridden hostel room back in Calcutta. Yet, it's safer, somehow. (And, it's not because of the brilliant weather outside).<br />
<br />
It's perfectly normal to feel homesick. To yearn for good food, good weather or just your bed. (which might be as ordinary as any other bed, but it's still YOUR bed). Or, to just get off Potato for a few days. That's what makes coming back home all the more awesome and worthwhile. Because that's how it will be from now on. Come back home to be that incorrigible child for a little while and then get back to "I'm an adult and I'm responsible." But for those days back home, just be the annoying little kid your mother always complained about. (Believe me, she secretly likes it, and misses it too)<br />
<br />
And, don't punish yourself by making that a by 2 coffee. Drink it full. For the love of filter kaapi. </div>
meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-6150970618779839652012-08-06T01:45:00.001-07:002012-08-06T01:45:45.606-07:00Sophomore Year Series<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm still not used to being a "Second Year" at law school. Notice how I say second year in quotes. Sure, it's nice not to be at the bottom of the hierarchy for once, but I've got to admit, I had it pretty easy last year. (Save for a horrendous contracts course, and grades.)<br />
GRADES! How can I forget about grades! I love grades, especially ones which begin with an "A". (Or here, an "E") 2nd semester into law school. No E's. And I thought I was smart. Am I really? Or not. Is it because I'm so used to doing well in school that now I'm just bogged down by this huge competition suffocating me from all sides? It's not that I'm failing, but I just don't like being mediocre. I hate to admit it, it might also be the fact that I don't like the idea of some of my friends doing better than me. Sort of a flawed superior complex, I must say. I know I'm not one of the best, yet I want to prove that I am to them so badly.<br />
<br />
I've become a CV building bitch. No, whore. CV building bitch-whore sounds more accurate. It's sort of depressing. Yet, I want to be depressed and go ahead and build that CV anyway.<br />
<br />
Let's see where this year takes me. And you, if you're reading. </div>meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-13698561636780070812011-12-22T09:43:00.000-08:002011-12-22T10:01:11.109-08:00Living the law school "life"<p class="MsoNormal"> Almost a week back, my friend Sadhvi and I were sharing a cab back from Park Street to college when we realised that it had been almost six months since we came from all over the country to NUJS. It struck me, as the cab strode across Calcutta and into Salt Lake City, that one semester or 10% of my law school life had already been lived.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> I look at the six months that have gone by, and I’m surprised at how different I’ve become. When you come to a national law school with a father for a lawyer, well people do have some sort of expectations of you. When you come with a father for a Supreme Court lawyer with a bunch of masters in all sorts of law, people have EXPECTATIONS from you. When it was decided that I was coming to Calcutta to attend law school, I had my mind set- a straight 6 and above GPA, Moot, debate, theatre- I wanted it all. I promised myself I wouldn’t get involved in trouble, I wouldn’t date and I’d be friendly and talk to everyone. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><br />Six months makes the past a mere dream.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="text-indent: 36pt; ">Here I am- hoping to pass Contracts-I, which in other words would mean a 2 GPA, I never mooted nor debated. I got into the theatre team because I was one of the only two girls that auditioned. I’ve been in enough shit, I really like this guy and plan on letting him know soon and I’ve already made friends and enemies.</span><span style="text-indent: 36pt; ">My point here is that having all those grandiose plans maybe not be that good a thing after all. Don’t get into this never ending phase of planning it like this or that. More importantly, don’t let competition bog you down. As my wise mother says, and I echo her, “There will always be someone who is better than you; the only one you should be competing with is yourself.” </span><span style="text-indent: 36pt; "> </span><span style="text-indent: 36pt; ">And as for the expectations, it doesn’t matter to you if you don’t let it matter to you. For me, it matters only if it’s from the people I care about and who care about me back. As long as they’re still proud of me, and support me in whatever I do, I shouldn’t really bother about these “expectations”. </span><span style="text-indent: 36pt; "> </span><span style="text-indent: 36pt; ">Do what you think is right, and forget about the rest. What’s done is done, and it’s done most probably for the good. </span><span style="text-indent: 36pt; "> </span><span style="text-indent: 36pt; ">Life’s of bigger and greater things, and the true test lies with your heart, not your head.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-3775150989849427822011-07-15T22:47:00.000-07:002011-07-15T22:50:12.500-07:00The Law School diaries.Hola everyone!<br /><br />It's been a while since my last post, and I haven't been able to write much since coming to Calcutta. But, now I'm back with LOADS to tell. Moving half across the country IS a big deal. Especially, if you're going to Law School.<br /><br />So here I will share my experiences, thoughts, hopes and you can tell me again, just how crazy I am!meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-86459350350621789522011-06-14T00:51:00.000-07:002011-06-14T01:12:22.549-07:00The Change in the Game Part IIWhen you leave home, you leave home with a lot of mixed emotions. Mixed, because you are leaving for new beginnings, yet, in a way, you leave with a heavy heart, leaving behind all the things, places and people that are dear to you, you tuck them safely in a corner of your heart, and make your journey. <div><br /></div><div>I look around my room, and all the things that make it. Eighteen years of my life has already passed by, so much I have learnt, so much I have yet to learn. I know I will miss a lot of things about my life right now, but eventually as time passes, these things will be happy memories that I will cherish forever. The ones I do not want to remember, I will never forget but I will not think about them for long. </div><div><br /></div><div>This summer I learnt a lot about love. No, I have not been heavily influenced by Bollywood movies, but mostly through observation. Love comes in different ways to different people. It's how you accept love to be to you, and how you take it. Love also means different things to different people. I never really did believe in love, always thought it was a bit too mushy for someone like me. </div><div><br /></div><div>Expectation is a horrid thing. Really. I'm trying not to do it. My whole life, I've always spent planning for the future. My entire day was planned, packing in hours of study, exercise and household chores. Now, for once, I want to live each day as it comes, live each moment as it passes by. (I threw my daily planner into the trash) I don't want to have expectations about anything or anybody. What it has to be, it will be. Things always don't happen the way you want it to, just accept it and move on. </div><div><br /></div><div>As things change, people change. Some of these changes are good, some are not. It's sad when you know that someone you really cared for changed and has become a horrid person. It's best to accept it, rather than mourn over it. You're the one with the bigger heart at the end of the day. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm excited about living in Calcutta for the next five years. I don't know whether I'll like it or not. But, that isn't the deal. The very experience of living in a place I have never been to before brings in an element of excitement. Will I make friends? Will be happy? Will I do well in Law school? I don't know. And strangely for me, I don't want to! </div><div><br /></div><div>For the first time, I'm happy and proud of myself for what I've achieved till now. I'm happy there are people around me who care and love me for the quirky insane person that I am. I'm happy that all the work I put in for CLAT didn't completely go for a waste. I'm happy that a lot of people are happy for me. I'm most happy because for the first time in five years, I'm ready to open my heart again. And I know I will get hurt, but that's what brings you to love- pain. I'm not going to waste a second more about the fact that I'm not going to go to NLS, even if I was dreaming of that place since I was 9 years old. </div><div><br /></div><div>As a good friend of mine always says, whatever happens always happens for the good. </div><div><br /></div><div>And I'm going to sit back, and watch my credits roll. =) </div>meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-64445681990700346242011-06-12T22:40:00.001-07:002011-06-12T22:58:18.100-07:00The Change in the Game Part II'm back! =D<br /><br />It's hard to believe summer is almost over, and what a crazy summer it has been. Most importantly, I have learnt a lot this summer. <br /><br />When boards ended, I spent only half a day loafing around, enjoying the few hours I had to celebrate the ending of two years at a wonderful institution with wonderful people! But that was to be short lived, because the very next day, I sat down and started my crucial prep for the Common Law Admission Test 2011.<br /><br />I've always wanted to be a lawyer, ever since I can remember. When I was a kid, my dad used to take me around The Karnataka High Court and I used to just love the place. (Apologies to Raju for all the irritating questions =P) During vacations and holidays, I used to immerse myself in the sea of books in my dad's room and his office. When he died and I inherited the whole thing, it was a great escape on days when I needed to run away. On the darkest of all days, when I needed some strength, it was here I found myself again and again.<br /><br />CLAT 2011 All India Rank 133. I'm not disappointed. Because, when I finished the paper, I had no hopes of making it to even NLS Kochi. NLS Bangalore was a far dream. I do ask whether all that hard work that I put in went for a waste. I think not. NUJS is an awesome place, (tipped by some of my law friends to be the next "big thing" in national law schools) and I always had an intuition about Calcutta. There has to be reason for my ardent love for Rosogolla, no?<br /><br />So here I am. Standing at crossroads. About to take my next big step into the big bad world. Will I survive? How is Meenakshi Kurpad going to be five years down the lane? Will I get the power I've always wanted? Will my ideas and beliefs change? Will I get the Oh-my-dear-we-pity-you-because-you-have-no-father typical Indian Uncles and aunties finally see how headstrong I've become? How I don't need to have a male presence to do whatever the hell I want?<br /><br />To these backward minds, I say- Meenakshi Kurpad hasn't arrived.<br /><br />The Meenakshi Kurpad has arrived. =)meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-7296844434599230152010-12-19T09:44:00.000-08:002010-12-19T09:51:45.957-08:00ClosureTime goes by. Seconds, minutes, hours even. A lifetime has gone by, it seems. I can still hear the shrill of my screaming voice-the anger, the pain. Sometimes, I feel too much emotion. Too much loss of love. Yet, I pride myself in being able to conceal it and how. Here come the loose ends. They have to be tied. They cannot be left undone. No, not when it's with me.<br /><br />Four years I've lived my life in shades of grey. Sometimes the darkest, sometimes the lightest. Each shade has taught me much. I dwell on my experiences and dive into my thoughts. They are my strongest supporters. I live to survive. Some things need to end, they need to stop-if you want to grow.<br /><br />"Ms. Kurpad?"<br /><br />But, then, each closure gives rise to a new beginning. =)meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-46167223893639436322010-11-29T08:18:00.000-08:002010-11-29T08:33:02.316-08:00Half the man, twice the lawyer.I had my 18th birthday treat last wednesday for two reasons. One, to celebrate the "coming of age" and two to celebrate the end of my childhood (or whatever I had of one anyway). One of my good friends happened to give me a really good book. Well, all John Grisham books are really good, atleast to me anyway, because for the last 18 years I've lived, loved and breathed the law. The book- Theodore Boone- Kid Lawyer, is engrossing, thought provoking and most importantly it made me feel extremely happy reading it. I could relate to Theo on a lot of levels, and that's what made me love the book even more. When I googled it, I found that it was the first part of trilogy! It made me sing- There's more? Yay! =)<br /><br />So, I'm looking forward to reading more of Theo and his tryst with the law in the small town of Strattenburg. And all those law lovers out there, who haven't read it yet, get a copy now!meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-64108921983872552952010-07-10T07:49:00.000-07:002010-07-10T08:33:15.237-07:00Indian Education:the need for more choice.Welcome to India, where cows eat hay and they drive auto rickshaws everyday and everyone is an engineer eh eh. MC Vikram wouldn't really like to have the last phrase in his song I guess, but nonetheless that's the scenario here.<br /><br /> It's like a another caste system. The brilliant kids take up Science and go on to become engineers. Science= engineers.("IIT?" says the aunty next door. "Wonderful!") The mediocre kids take Commerce ("It's so easy!" rave the science kids, well, if it was, why the hell are you not doing it you dumbarse!) and then the leftovers, or the brainless- the arts or the social sciences kids, who, mostly being girls, either end up teaching or, well, married with kids. This will not do, Mr. Sibal, it won't. And to all the education ministers and concerned educationalists, this is for you guys too. We need a more flexible choice. It's high time.<br /><br /> I hate accounts. I just can't take the subject. But, I have no choice. I wanted Mathematics and Economics. The only course that offered these two wants was Commerce, Accounts Math and Economics. What am I supposed to do? "Only two years," my mother said. Two years of doing something you don't like? I'm not a person of dispassionate interests. Hence, my blogging ( or crying out loud) for the need for more choice.<br /><br />At this point, there is a desperate need for bringing out a more flexible method for offering choices to students. I like Political Sciences, but then, I like Math too. Oh, and I want Economics. Ugh, no honey, you can't study all three of them together, even if you like them. What people don't realise is that subjects of social sciences or commerce are just as important as the science ones. Without any one of them, the society, the economy, the world will not function. You need to know the social effects of everything you do, because at the end of the day, it's US, the people who are going to be effected by anything. In educational systems abroad, there is a mix of subjects from all three categories. This is the sole reason why there many things the Americans and the Europeans are far better than us in many ways. Their freedom of experimentation, use of more practical application, makes them better professionals, any day. Of course, learning by rote has never fetched us anyone, except maybe the title of "teacher's pet" in class. Many educational systems abroad have made it compulsory for students to write atleast one social sciences paper, because, the knowledge of the people is most important.meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-27691892742393329062010-06-15T03:52:00.000-07:002010-06-15T04:03:58.414-07:00The Butcher of BhopalTurning over to the editorial page of today's newspaper (The Hindu, dated 15th June 2010. "Games big corporations play") I read through the atrocities of infamous Bhopal Gas Tragedy of December 1984 which left over 20,000 dead and thousands disabled and maimed. The effects of Bhopal's worst nightmare can still be felt, even today.<br /> Quarter of a century later, there is still no trace of justice. The city still suffers from the long term impact of the gas tragedy, which includes various health, economic and social conditions. And, the only justice they are supposed to be satisfied with is a bailable two year prison term for the seven former officials of the then known Union Carbide Corporation. What if the Bhopal gas tragedy had happened in the United States? Would the House of Justice and the people let him off that easily? Is our judicial system, famed for it's delay in delivering justice, flawed in the case of ensuring justice as well? Answer me, Mr. Anderson, do you not feel anything, anything at all for the shit you've done?<br /><br /> Mr. Anderson may not have been punished for his criminal acts, however there is a title he will have to live with. He will and will always be known as the butcher of Bhopal. I bet he's proud of it, aren't you Mr. Anderson?meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-18468631532293314322010-06-15T03:51:00.001-07:002010-06-15T03:52:21.203-07:00Threptin!Correction to previous blog: Threptin, not Triptin!<br /><br />Sorry!meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-84839624322296029672010-05-24T08:09:00.000-07:002010-05-24T08:21:31.398-07:00Daddy and Triptin BiscuitsWhen I was 7, I thought Triptin biscuits were best thing ever invented by man, even if it was a medicinal biscuit. The circular thing tasted awesome. Amazing, in fact. I'm glad the doctor told daddy to eat them, because if he hadn't I wouldn't have gotten to taste the most amazing biscuit in the world (wholly my opinion) but, more importantly, I wouldn't have gotten to spend some of the best afternoons with my father.<br /> Triptin biscuits came a pale green and brown tin box. It did look like it contained some sort of medicine from the outside, but once you open the box and tear apart the plastic foil, voila! The best biscuit on the planet. I also liked the biscuit because it was soft and easy to chew and it just seemed to melt into your mouth. Yum!<br /> Daddy never intended to give me Triptin biscuits. He knew he shouldn't be feeding a 7 year old nutrient supplement biscuits. He just got to know I liked it because he caught me eating them. I just wanted to see how they tasted. Honest.<br /> So, Daddy and I spent many afternoons chomping over Triptin biscuits. I got only 2 though, while daddy had to have his dose. If I was lucky, or daddy was in a good mood, I would get three. We usually played Scrabble or I would sit near his knees and we would watch TV, mostly National Geographic (he was their lawyer, and was maybe expected to know something) or I would watch Cartoon Network while he intently read a book.<br /> My mother and I had recently visited Mantri Square, and I noticed the familiar green and brown tin can in the medical store window. My mother walked a little front of me, obviously not caring or wondering why I was stopping and looking at an uninteresting tin can. To everyone else, it's just a stupid tin can with medicinal biscuits in them; but to me it's a whole lot of afternoons of memories. =)meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2786996969912583057.post-27557934493727899412010-05-22T07:15:00.000-07:002010-05-22T07:17:30.087-07:00The "decisive" year.Oh jeez. I'm in 12th now. It's THE year. The year in which we not only have to write the BOARD exams but also various, may I add, screwing entrance exams, where a quarter mark makes your life, or breaks it.<br /><br />Welcome to hell.<br /><br />Courtesy:- the Indian educational system.meena.kurpadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00898343844915315764noreply@blogger.com0