A Bit of Unpleasant Homework

*picture from http://actroidnotex.blogspot.in

“Don’t you have summer vacations?!” a little girl quizzed me the other day. She seemed utterly amazed by the idea that I had to go to work, same as always, in the months of May and June. “How will you complete your holiday homework then?”

“We don’t get any.”

“Oh, then that’s why.” She now seemed content. “I have loads! Models and things to be made. I will get started with it on Saturday.”

She set me thinking. Was it indeed fair to not have summer vacations considering we weren’t assigned tasks to do? Didn’t the late hours spent at work, the e-mails that never ceased arriving and the multitude of personal engagements that had to be attended to count as homework enough? Well, it seems they don’t.

A Cinematic Thursday

 

“What?”

That was all Granddad managed to say when I told him the movie had cost 350 INR per head. Popcorn, drinks and transport separate. This was last month,when we had gone to watch three witches unleash their magic on the silver screen. In a plush South Delhi theatre with a hundred other patrons alongside, that is indeed the sum you will have to dish out for a show. Insane? You bet. Especially when I have gotten used to the nice 80-a-flick at E Square, Pune. And in case you were turning up your noses in dreaded anticipation, that multiplex isn’t half bad.

Anyhow, the point is that amidst such drudgery, when you find tickets for 75 apiece, you gape. You plan weeks in advance for that charmed Thursday when PVR Saket gives away ‘Any Movie, Any Show’ tickets for 75 – about the price of a single scoop Baskin Robbins, last time I checked.

Of Glories That Can Never End

*Prize Winning Entry in Women’s Web’s Celebrating Girls, Celebrating Women Contest*

*picture from http://www.sitwithmeinmygarden.com

“Don’t be too late coming back.” Mom says over the phone when I go to work every morning. I tell her I wouldn’t. In the course of the day however, tasks pile onto more tasks and before I know it, the clock strikes a less-than-welcome hour. When I trudge back home, tired and sleepy, I have little motivation to appreciate the night-blossom that grows pleasantly by my window or listen to the cricket shrieking away to glory. It is a world I hadn’t envisaged growing up. Just how I graduated from walking on dew in the park to being unpleasantly mindful of stress, stalkers and fear is a transformation I am still unsure about.