For the misfits living in a paradox, you are not alone.



A brown-faced female, Bangladeshi first, Australian second, with an impeccable fair dinkum accent and a far more accentuated Bangali-ana. My energy and zest for life is contagious, you have been warned. I speak four languages and I also make words dance. For everything else – you must must follow the white rabbit!

Confessions of an uber-privileged development worker

You’re probably thinking of an entitled brat sitting far away from action pretending and commentating (oh the nerve!) on realities that are not her own. Thankfully, for all parties concerned, nothing could be further from the truth. 

Continue reading “Confessions of an uber-privileged development worker”

A review of Jane Austen’s Elizabeth

Some weekends ago while flipping through the latest additions’ list on netflix, my partner halted on the Keira Knightly starrer Pride and Prejudice, and told me an interesting story. Apparently, when we first met, he playfully asked if Pride and Prejudice was my favourite book, given I was a voracious reader, and surely Jane Austen would make it to my top ten. And apparently, I was offended. I had lashed out at him for having made such a suggestion and he couldn’t quite figure out the reason behind my response. 

Continue reading “A review of Jane Austen’s Elizabeth”

Not Made in Heaven

In South Asian societies the education or profession of a woman matters little. When you rip open that fancy packaging, they all bleed from the same tragedy. Continue reading “Not Made in Heaven”

How I picked my son’s surname

A staunch feminist, I always say I was born one. Because I had no real influence or examples at any of the impressionable phases of my life to turn me into one. I had no big life events or tragedies either of a considerable size that would propel the conscientious voice in me to come out in the form it did. Even at the tender age of ten. So let’s say a protest march against anything that seemed remotely unfair came to me naturally.  Continue reading “How I picked my son’s surname”

Why do we love cheap labour?

I think I’m lucky to be raising my child in an environment where hard, manual labour is rewarded just as handsomely as brainwork, if not more. Continue reading “Why do we love cheap labour?”

What it means to be Bengali

Every other day a family member will chime in to ask me if I’m teaching Noah (my 14 month-old) Bengali the language and the culture. And every time I silently shake my head.  Continue reading “What it means to be Bengali”

My fellow progressive compatriot …

I’m privy to a lot of conversations, particularly amongst mothers, and women in general from south asian backgrounds. And whilst every one of them is complaining about how rotten the society is, I hate to break this to you, but the problem is YOU.  Continue reading “My fellow progressive compatriot …”

Self hugs!

I hate the gym as an institution. Remind me again WHY I would pay to go to a place where nobody smiles and everybody seems to be in pain? Am I crazy or is this world turning us into idiots?! Oh the negative vibe in these places. Unless it’s an emergency like being admitted to a hospital, I would never pay to be in that kind of an unhappy environment.  Continue reading “Self hugs!”

In a relationship (with me)

The biggest existential question that most misfits struggle with is the inability to find people that understands them. That is its foundational crisis. It’s the same crisis that sent me on my journey of self-discovery with yoga.  Continue reading “In a relationship (with me)”

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