Shrinika Neethi

 Long form Article Read introduction for context. Picture: Viv's 1st flight trip  The spring birds chirping near my bedside window woke me up from my sleep. The March weather of Jammu is just the right level of cold for me - a product of Trichy’s sweltering climate round the year. My neck felt a little delicate from the cervical spondylosis I suffered from the previous week; but still for the first time in a long time, I opened my eyes looking forward to facing the day. Three months ago I decided to quit my abusive marriage, this came after years of contemplation. The slowest and toughest three months of my life. I was only waiting for my son Vivek’s (name changed) academic year to get over; the guise of a routine holiday visit to ‘nani house’ would be an unsuspected and hassle-free way for both of us to escape. This may sound deceptive but with my deteriorating mental tenacity and dwindling chances for redemption I had to play my cards right for sure shot success. I woke Viv ...

  Long post Alert Preface The following post is about my last journey from my marital home in Jammu to my sister’s place in Chennai; I describe in detail everything that happened in those 48 hours of travel, the voices of my inner critic and guide, and my wavering thoughts and feelings during the whole time.    A good question to ask oneself before producing a work of labour/ sharing personal matters is, “Why do it?”. Upon asking that to myself I arrived at two things; 1. Such a catharsis will clear my mental space for better things and 2.one man’s experience is another man’s lesson. At a time when the internet was all I had for help, it was the blog posts of psychologists and the comments of survivors around the world that helped me gain clarity, hope and strength. I trust that this attempt to perpetuate the goodwill reaches the person in need. Disclaimer I speak of Jammu and Punjab only to highlight the distance and the cultural differences that I encountered and ...

 I have collected many tiny memories of my relatives and mine and strung them all together into one fictional story. This 15-minutes-read is set in the late 1980's small town in Tamil Nadu,India.The picture of my father and me is to add some character to the story . The last gulp is the sweetest, thought 5-year-old Babbu as she drank the lemonade freshly squeezed by her ammamma. It was almost nightfall on a Sunday. Babbu had a rollicking weekend at her ammamma’s house playing games like lock-and-key and hide-and-seek with her cousins. It was then time for her to go back to her house which was in the next street. Mother called out to her elder sister who was reading a book sitting on a branch of the guava tree, an advantageous location for when she wanted to snack on her favourite fruit. Babbu, amma and akka bid farewell to everyone and started their 5 minutes’ walk to their home. There was an eerie calm in the atmosphere, the sky was darkening, all the shops in the street wer...

Me bored Boredom was a common feeling in my childhood. At such times, I’ll run off to my ammamma’s house which was walkable distance from my home hoping that a change of place would amuse me. One such afternoon in 1996 when I was 11, going there didn’t help either. I was so bored, so bored, I almost cried. Mindlessly changing channels on the cable TV, I saw an advertisement for Coca Cola, it had just penetrated into smaller cities like Trichy and was aggressively marketing. The drink came in an attractive red, first-of-its-kind tin can that you got to pop open, all the cool white skinned teens in the ad were drinking it and seemingly, having the time of their lives. Anything new in the market, I had to try it; so, I decided to entertain myself by drinking some cola. A coke can costed Rs. 20 and I had 0. What do I do for funds? Ammamma can be my financier, I thought. She was in the dining hall serving lunch to my mama. I put on the sweet-grandchild face and politely requested her to gi...

  This is a continuation of my previous post about everyone in the society being knowledgeable and skillful. Click on the link to read that https://hridayakamala.blogspot.com/2023/08/a-day-in-life-of-boutiquewali-skill.html Siddhayogi Shrimaan Adinarayanan and Matrushree Smriti Rekha Adinarayanan   #education Good education is necessary for people to acquire knowledge and skill. A sizeable portion of our income is spent on our Children’s education; graduates lap up high-paying jobs in different cities to pay off their education loan and hold on to them to afford good education for their children. So, to bring down the costs we first need to spend. To spend, we take a loan. To pay off that loan, we raise the cost of our services and spend further to cope up in a costly society thereby not bringing down the cost. How would it be if timeless education was made price-less? My son studies in one such institution where education is given as charity – VIDYADAANAM. DHARMA GURUKULAM in...

My employees and me A lady in her early 60’s walked into my store to enquire about the services offered. Her appearance humble and dignified. Salt and pepper hair well oiled and plaited, a big maroon Kumkum pottu on the forehead, adorned by some basic gold jewellery that are considered mandatory by south Indian women. A simple chiffon saree with floral prints and a plain full voile blouse with a slight puff on the sleeves.   The tailor who she visits regularly is now too old to do a good job and she couldn’t find any new ones who can stitch a well fitted blouse; that caused much frustration for her.  I could make out that she is the kind of person who makes meticulous efforts to look smart. As confident as I was about making well fitted garments, I didn’t want to promise her anything. As expected, she was taken aback upon knowing how much it would cost her for a blouse. She politely expressed,   “Well, that is too expensive, dear. Whatever happened to the time when tai...

This content was originally released as a video in my youtube channel, click on the li k to watch the video https://youtu.be/nGlFYSxBgNU “ Why do priests pour gallons of milk, curd and other stuff on temple idols? God never asks for such resources to be wasted! There is no point in holding on to these meaningless rituals. These litres of milk can feed hundreds of poor people. So insensitive!” This is something that every Hindu has wondered, at least once in their lives. The answers that our elders gave were not convincing enough. So.... should we conclude that Abishekams are indeed meaningless?! Don’t let your curiosity die yet. Invest the next 10 minutes of your life on this video and get enlightened. Vanakkam and Welcome to the 1st episode of Hinduism simplified, in which I will be throwing light on prejudiced Hindu practices and their real purpose. Go to the bottom of the blog post to find reliable reference materials that would answer any doubts and questions you might have. Coming...