Of Privilege

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On my very first day of college where I had enrolled for an honours degree in English literature, the teachers of my department assembled all the first-year students in a classroom to get to know them. Because I had a five-hour round commute to my college that consisted of multiple transportation – local train, buses and autorickshaws – I had arrived just in time to manage to get myself a seat at the back of the room. Being excited was, of course, an obvious emotion to experience

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Of (NOT) Having One Name

I am shook. This is the sort of information that only (mostly) strangers on the internet could help me process. Because I could not find anyone in my life who cares. People here don’t care either, but I need to let this out in a public way.

I just found out Schmidt’s first name this evening.

Of Rating Things

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I just ordered (and ate) some fish and chips. I am Bengali, and so, as far as stereotypes go, I expect my deep-fried fish to be as good as Mitra Cafe’s or Apanjan’s. I know it cannot be as good, when it is not from either of those establishments, or from a Bengali eatery at all, for that matter. But, I can’t help it if my standards are high – the fish should be that fresh, that flavourful, that truly melt-in-the-mouth. There aren’t many things that can live up to advert-speak, but if you’ve already tasted heaven, you know you won’t be rating mere earthly morsels as highly.

But, I shall have to rate it. I ordered it on a food app, and my statistical dilemmas have already begun.

Of The Price of Buying Too Much

Pretty, new packages (Courtesy: Pexels)

Growing up, my father had a system. Everybody in the family, whether child or adult, gets an equal amount of money allotted to them, and they would do their clothes (and shoes and bags and accessories…) shopping for the Indian festive season within that amount. Unless there was an absolute necessity for buying something during the rest of the year (such as new items for school), we didn’t think about getting new clothes.

Of Janet Jackson, and Her…..

Unlike most pop culture things I talk about here, I actually lived through this. I was even the right age for it. I had followed Justin Timberlake’s career from his *Nsync days to his first album. Even the most successful Jackson siblings – Michael and Janet – had successful albums in the early 2000s, despite

Of TV Deaths

I hardly ever pay homage or even refer to the guy that inspired this whole Of Opinions thing – Francis Bacon. Nope, not the twentieth century painter, but the Renaissance essayist. To be fair, all he and I have in common is a tendency to use ‘Of’ in the title, and that too was something I ripped off from him. But, he’s got many, many interesting things to say (though I’m more fun). Like, in his essay Of Death he writes:

MEN fear death, as children fear to go in the dark; and as that natural fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other.

Of Ignorance and Empathy

Similarity, Not Difference

I didn’t know South Korea had many books. – A Book Blogger

I didn’t know India had books written in English. – Same Book Blogger

What is it with Indians and blogging? – comment on this blog.

Of Sharing Stories

Don’t stay in the dark

I’m told I should ‘share my story.‘ But, I’m afraid by saying it, it will become real.

I suffered an allergy attack over the weekend. I went to get some medication at a local pharmacy on Sunday morning, clearly preoccupied with my inflamed nose and watering eyes,

Of Biscuits

Biscuits (Courtesy: Pixabay)

Me want cookie. – Cookie Monster, Sesame Street

I’ve underestimated the biscuit in recent years. Previously in my life, biscuits were as common as the sun and the moon and the stars. Astronomy and gastronomy only diverged when it came to what demanded more romantic literature to be made out of them. They had been equals in my childhood, even contemporaries,

Of Gifts and Presents

Gifts (Courtesy: Pixabay)

I had to buy a present for an upcoming wedding yesterday. I don’t particularly enjoy buying wedding presents for people, because they’re the least imaginative out there. Even when you get a little creative and thoughtful with them, your efforts go unnoticed in a sea of more obvious, less thoughtful presents.

There is nothing selfless about gift-giving.