Masturbation, Menstruation, Mental Health – We need to Talk

This is not a rant. Or passive commentary. Or even a mockery. All this is, is a realistic reflection of the times we live in. As much as I am proud of being Indian, there are times when my own culture and society has failed me. Even in a modern, free, independent India.

For instance, should I dare to commit the inconsolable sin of kissing my partner in public, I will be booed, arrested, lynched even. On grounds of being socially immoral. Yet, no one will bat an eyelid at the lines of (not-so-gentle)men who publicly take out their manhood to urinate. Because even though that is (technically) socially immoral, it is still socially acceptable.

A country that proudly declares itself secular, imposes a beef ban. Which is when I must accept the unfortunate truth that if I had to choose between being a cow and a woman in India, I’m better off opting for the former.

And if that wasnt enough, may I also take the opportunity to remind you that , that in the same breath that I declare with pride that foreign conglomerates acquire Indian homegrown startups,  under Section 377, having a same-sex partner is still legally a crime in this country, and marital rape is not.

On account of this, I dedicate this blog post of mine to three widely misunderstood topics –  masturbation, menstruation and mental health, especially in the desi context.

Masturbation. A recent Bollywood flick, one which that braved the sanskaari junta to show a woman masturbating publicly on-screen, resulted in the actress being trolled all across social media. As if she, instead of her character had committed some kind of crime by expressing her right to self-pleasure. Is it because a society, we’ve conned ourselves into believing, that a woman’s right to sexual pleasure is an offence? And maybe a bigger offence, is fulfilling it without a man.

Menstruation. This brouhaha about a woman bleeding for five days of the week amuses me, then makes me sad, then makes me angry – in that order. Don’t touch the pickle. Stay out of the house. Because we have to make a tamasha about everything. Literally everything. Which includes even a perfectly normal biological process, whose onset should make women and their families sigh out of relief. But we, on the other hand, must treat it like some kind of warped interpretation of human anatomy.

And finally mental health. Sadly, I’m living in a society that’s decided to framework and yardstick how it defines success and happiness. Anyone who sticks to the code is accepted, anyone who doesn’t is ostracized, Maybe even if we just allowed more people to live their life, the way they want it to, we wouldn’t be losing Kate Spades and Anthony Bourdains to depression and eventually suicide. Why just celebrities, we’d have an entire population of happier, fuller, more content people. Because they weren’t living their life on a pre-decided, dictated social roadmap.

I think sometimes, my relationship society feels like the one with a human significant other. Where on more than one occasion, you want to take a stand and say the following words. We Need to Talk.

 

 

Post Veere-di-Wedding thoughts

This could almost be a follow-up to a piece I’d written earlier, on the evolution of the quintessential Bollywood heroine. If you haven’t read it already, find it here.

When a film starring four female actors, hashtagged #NotaChickFlick revolves around a plot of reunion of friends on the occasion of the wedding of one, you know you want to watch it. Irrespective of what reviews and critics say. Out of enthusiasm, and curiosity.

So, for a 27-year-old, single woman, one who has made several bold decisions in life, yet is far from claiming that she’s figured it all out, a movie like this sends several thoughts down her spine.

She relates with many of the tensions that the protagonists in the film experience. The conflict of an emotional heart with a rational mind. The challenges that arise from being in the no-man’s land between following your heart, yet wanting to match up to the social pressures of a society that occasionally wants to take charge of your life narrative. Dealing with plenty of first world issues, especially when you’re a millennial Indian woman balancing on yourself on the tight rope hanging between tradition and modernity.

She realizes that in many ways, she shares a note with all four of them. Kalindi’s free spirit that struggles with emotional baggage she’s trying hard to not bring in way of her life decisions, yet get in the way anyhow. Avni’s go-getter attitude that wants to be successful from every angle –  professional, personal and social . Sakshi’s impulsive, rebellious heart that takes her places, both wrong and right. And finally, Meera’s insecurities about life and love especially when the people unintentionally causing you grief are your own.

But her takeaway, is that like her, the protagonists in the film aren’t perfect either. And that everyone’s concept of a Happily Ever After varies. And that every girl needs her own little wolf pack , one she can count on, to make life a little lesser tougher when chips are down.

The film has its flaws, though. It restricts itself to a wafer-thin crust of Indian society that lives in posh bungalows with manicured lawns, and is able to whimsically take, off to Thailand when it wants to escape life’s harsh realities for a while. Multiple forced product placements that feel anything but natural (especially Air India. I wonder if the in-trouble airline is expecting a revival simply by featuring in the film). Few moments excessively over-the-top, right from the costumes to the dialogue.

However, what VDW essentially does, is bring to light, the multiple shades and undertones of the realistic urban Indian women. One who is confident enough to make her own choices when it comes to career and marriage, yet occasionally question her own sensibilities in making those choices. One who is paradoxical, ferociously guarding her sense of independence and identity, yet craving companionship. One who hides her insecurities and fears that arise as a result of her own life experiences, or others, to make sure her life is Instagram and Snapchat ready.

If you’re seeking a film that highlights women’s issues or brings forward women empowerment as a cause, you’re much better off watching a Chak De India. This film is feminine, not feminist. Watch it with your girlfriends on a casual Sunday, and make sure you play the game of who-is-which-character. And leave the theatre without over-analyzing what you saw. Though in my own sense of optimism, I do hope the film somewhere paves the way for mainstream Bollywood films featuring women. Ones where female protagonists don’t necessarily have to  inspire women to change the world,  scream girl power, or tell stories of women changed the world. Yet canstrike a chord by propagating the message that sometimes before you save the world, you have to save yourself. That’s not called being selfish, its called being sensible.

 

 

 

A Letter to Robin Scherbatsky,

Hi Robin,

The moment I set my eyes on you, I knew it was love at first sight. Without me even realising it, you became my role model. For me. And an entire population of women, who carry stars in their eyes, and live on a diet of dreams, hopes and aspirations. For you symbolised everything what any single, ambitious woman could possibly dream of. A job I’d probably chop my right arm for. A fiery, adventurous spirit that revealed a warm and loyal heart within. A smile that made everyone from Ted to Barney (yes, even him!) go weak in their knees. And of course, five dogs for flatmates.

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From you, I learned that a life lived with passion is one that’s well lived. One where you let your heart and soul be your guiding star. One where you stumble a few times, only to rise back stronger. You taught me the importance of self-love. Of never ever feeling guilty to do what nourishes your soul, and eradicate what doesn’t. Of making mistakes, and owning up to them. You are living proof, that  behind every confident, independent, strong hearted woman, lies a vulnerable soul. One that’s afraid of being hurt and of being let down. Yet, one that will never compromise on relationships, only because it is scared to be alone. If there’s only one page that we can all take out of your book, it is to learn to revel in the pleasure on our own company. To reminding ourselves again, and again, and again, that we indeed are complete on our own. Men, jobs and apartments come and go. They’re the icing on the cake, in the end, it is your own self that needs to take the cake, every single time.

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Thank you Robin, for breaking stereotypes. Because scotch and guns don’t only have to be man things. And women who live for their careers and sense of identities can also seek home and family. And women can indeed build other women up instead of being sworn enenmies. Thank you, for making a generation of independent, free-spirited women believe in the power of following their passions and dreams. And fairy tales coming true. Even if you have to wait a little, for Prince Charming to show up at your window. Blue horn in tow, of course.Thank you for assuring me, that each time I have to take a leap of faith if life, all I have to do, is look at myself in the mirror, and tell myself, that if Robin can do it, I can, too.

Lots of love,

Loyal Viewer Fan-Girl

p.s.: Lets go to the mall, today. Shall we?

 

 

A letter to Hermione Granger

Dear Hermione,

After over two entire decades of knowing, admiring and wanting to emulate you, I finally pen down this letter to you.

I first discovered you when I was all of twelve years old. An age where I was still finding myself. I’d always been an extroverted, curious and over-imaginative child. One for whom being in control of situations came to, very naturally. Yet, some part of me always tried to validate the my inherent confidence, my sense of independence, my longing for adventure. In my world of conformists, I was the one whose heart desired the road not taken. The offbeat path. And for silent rebels like me, we were more likely to find critics rather than cheerleaders.

And then I met you.

You taught me that being a nerd, as opposed to stereotype, is a wonderful thing. That curiosity and a passion for learning can take you places. That a yearning for knowledge is a virtue few are endowed with, and the ones who do make use of their potential, are true game-changers. However, what you also taught me, was that it was equally important to apply the knowledge to good use, at the apt time. Whether it was remembering to use that spell you learned in class in a time of crisis, or making Polyjuice potion from scratch or remembering that phoenix tears were actually healing powers, I wonder how Harry and Ron would’ve ever managed without you. If Harry was the brave heart, and Ron the soul, you were undebatedly the brain in the trio. Like cogs of a wheel that were always made to fit together.

From you I learned, to be a strong woman. One who wasn’t afraid to stand up for her rights, her thoughts and her opinions. You taught me that activism is a good thing. Even when Malfoy derided you by calling you a mud blood, you didn’t flinch. Or explain yourself. Not because it didn’t affect you. But because your self-respect and dignity didn’t allow you to have to justify yourself to someone who clearly was way beneath you as far as thinking was concerned. Not to mention anyone who accused you of not being a true witch didn’t stand a chance against you in class.

However, above everything else, I learned from you. The value of friendship. Of standing up for your friends when they need you. Of being their rock. Of believing in their vision. Supporting them with your abilities, and sometimes, just with your presence. Maybe that’s why even when Ron left Harry momentarily, you didn’t.

I could possibly go on. Yet, I’ll conclude by saying that I’m so grateful I met you, and learnt from you, in my childhood, invaluable lessons I know I will carry way through to womanhood.

Love,

Your childhood fan-girl-reader

 

A Letter to my Former Self

Dear Former Self,

I know its been a while we’ve spoken. Maybe you think I’m unkind. Or selfish. That I acknowledge you so little. Even though I was essentially, created from you. And I can never allow myself to forget that you essentially are my motherland. My creator. My birthplace.

No, I haven’t forgotten you. You still remain tucked somewhere within some corner of my heart. In the grooves of my memory. Within the folds of my spirit. When they tell me my eyes glow when I smile, I know it’s your pent up laughter that they see. When my slightly restrained womanly demeanor metamorphoses into a child that’s been allowed to run wild, its your carefree spirit that dances within. And on nights when I lie in bed, a vision of you, in the form of my old memories, fleets before my eyes, refusing to leave. Even though you and I are no longer friends, probably rare acquaintances, you live within me. And I carry you within me, with a sense of ownership, pride and honour. even though I might not show it.

I’m sorry you had to go through what you did. I know you weren’t exactly expecting all the disappointments, the tears, the failures that came your way. You had set yourself up for the skies, yet all you met with was the musty ground. You were let down by those you thought would never desert you. You were burned down by strife. By discord. By struggle. Your porcelain doll-esque spirit was shattered to pieces. In a way you never thought you would heal.

But you did. Only to fill those cracks with gold. Like the kintsugi potters in Japan, who believe that broken pottery is more beautiful that its original self, for the scars tell stories of all the wars the samurai has fought, only to return, recover and grow stronger.

And surprisingly, I don’t sympathize with you. Because the older, wiser me has come to understand, and appreciate that, as Destiny’s child, you had to go through all of this, for you to become me. The version of myself that I have become today. In your destruction, lay my birth. My wisdom came at the cost of your naivety. My maturity could only have been born from your innocence. Your ashes were my first cries. Your graveyard, my womb. Your tombstone, my cradle. As  the Phoenix  self-immolates itself, before it choses to resurrect itself from its own mortal remains, so did you have to be destroyed, so I could be formed.

Rome wasn’t built in a day. Neither was I. But it was built on ruins.  And so was I. Recreated on my own ruins.Just like water changes form, based on the utensil it finds itself in, I had to, too, change. But lets not call it change. Lets call it evolution. For despite the fires, storms and roads I had to walk through, I have no regrets. Diamonds are created under the harshest of conditions, and so did my soul, have to walk through Hades to find its own Heaven.

There are days I remember you. And like I said before, there are traces of you that still remain within. But having said all of this, I know that in no circumstance, am I going back to you.

Adieu, former self. I hope, with the purest of intentions, that we never meet. For its taken so much of you to be me, that I fear returning to who I once used to be.

Much Love,

Your Future Self

Impower, not empower

Female empowerment isn’t just a buzz word anymore. Or a fad. It’s a way of life. And a cause one doesn’t not want to be associated with. One that’s found enough takers, for everyone to find some reason to jump on to the bandwagon. The commercialization of woman empowerment, I call it. Ad commercials that propagate the notion of equality repeatedly. Ventures ranging from lingerie, to plus sized clothing to media channels, focusing on women of various segments. Corporate policies across the globe evolving to recognize the biological, financial and social requirements of women. All steps towards empowering more women. Yet, somehow, I have an issue with the term empowerment.

Empower. The dictionary defines the word empower as the act of giving someone the authority or power to do something. And I begin to wonder why one an individual that is talented, capable and high-performing in her own way has to be ‘empowered‘ by another individual. Especially when the so-called ’empowerer’ happens to be a counterpart, except a difference in gender.

Maybe there needs to be a slight tweak to this term. Instead of ’empowering’ women, I’d like to change the term to female impowerment. Allowing more women find their purpose, through self-discovery of their abilities. Where through opportunities and avenues, we assist them in finding what already was within them. I’ve almost begun to associate the term empowerment as a hierarchical notion, where someone at the top allows power to someone below him. And the question that arises in my mind is why the apparent ‘allowed’ party even needed permission in first place. In a world that’s working towards equality and inclusivity,  that’s where we might be getting it wrong. Power lies within. It shouldn’t have to imparted externally.

And maybe that’s what should be our mantra this Women’s Day. To Impower, not empower. 

Life lessons from Sitcom characters

In the days of the mighty old idiot box (a.k.a. the Television), sitcoms were created as a means of entertainment. A pre Netflix and Hulu era. And it was in those days, I fell in love with the art of binge-watching the sitcom.

Even though one watched them as a way to take a break from life, over time, their characters became parts of your lives. From the sense of fashion to their quirks, I’ve had an entire gamut of female sitcom characters I grew to love and closely identify with, and ones who ended up teaching me invaluable life lessons.

Here’s my list:

  1. serena-van-der-woodsenSerena van der Woodsen (Gossip Girl) : Your uniqueness, right from your sense of fashion to your life choices, is one to be celebrated. Every single life experience  – good, bad, ugly, pleasant is worth it. for it gives you stories to tell, when you’re older. Never let your past ever haunt your present. It’s okay to make mistakes, after all, isn’t that what being young is all about? Be bold, unapologetic, and follow your passions. Oh and in the end, marry for love and love only.

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2. Rachel Greene (F.R.I.E.N.D.S) : Listen to your heart. Even if that means being a runaway bride, rooming in with your high school bestie, and falling in love with your high school crush all over again. Work your way up to the top, even if you’re Daddy’s rich spoilt girl. And it’s all right to wear your heart on your sleeve, and be emotional, and be vulnerable. But it’s the girls that listen to their feelings that get off that plane.

 

 

3. RSRobin Scherbatsky (How I Met Your Mother): What is life without a spirit of adventure? Be a fierce lady with ambition, for women who like scotches that are old enough to order their own scotches will never go out of style.Be unapologetic about your decisions and your choices. Whether it means leaving your home country to settle down in another, taking endless trips around the globe, and even living with five dogs. Yet, be very proud of where you come from.

 

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4. Peggy Olsen (Mad Men)  : Women with talent, and ones that aren’t afraid to showcase them, are the best of them all. Coiffed hair, straightened skirts, and the perfect pout may be able to open doors, yet it is the woman with grit and capability that will get to stay in the room. Abilities trump appearances, always. The dark horse wins every race. Never, ever judge a book by its cover.

 

 

 

5. HGHermione Granger (Harry Potter series): Nothing is sexier than a woman with brains. And even sexier, is one who knows when and how to use them at the right time. When you find them, stead of labelling them as bossy, nerdy or geeky, hold on to them. Such women are lifesavers. And true friends.

Dear Seventeen Year Old Me…

Dear seventeen year old me,

I hope you’re listening. Because there’s just so much I have to tell you.

You’re probably wondering what lies ahead.  The road ahead might seem overwhelming. Scary. Even intimidating. Yet, I will tell you to savor these moments. For the world you have now is the best you can ask for.  Years later, when moments of solitude become a rarity, it is in these memories that you will find true solace. Memories of sleepovers, of high school crushes, of whining over pimples, the excitement of your first push-up bra, your first date, even tears shed on your first heartbreak. People will come and go, yet memories remain.

While it may now seem confusing,  the next decade is going to be exciting. It is going to take you on this journey of self discovery, where you’re going to evolve in more ways than you’d ever imagined you would. You are going to go out into this beautiful world, and discover what lies beyond the walls of your school and home. You’re going to go to lands far and beyond, and meet people you never though you would. Every experience, good or bad, shall build on to you, and help you grow. And somewhere along this adventure, I hope you discover your purpose.  And once you do, I hope you grab it by the horns, protect and preserve it. And if you don’t, I hope you never stop seeking it.

Of course it’s not going to be easy. In a world that constantly judges you, and imposes upon you a set of standards you apparently must adhere to, in order to be accepted. There exists an entire industry, that thrives on your insecurities. The one that constantly shows you fairness creams, and flashy diets. The one that benchmarks you against pre-decided standards of perfection. And if that weren’t enough, there will always be those who will tell you that you don’t fit in. Or that you are too rebellious, or ambitious for your own good. But don’t you let that affect you. Create your definition of perfection, and celebrate it.  For every person that hurts you, there will be an army that loves you for who you are. Those are the true keepers. And the ones whose advice you should seek.

I hope you teach yourself, even in the darkest of times, to focus on the tiniest flicker of light. For even in tough times, there things to be grateful for, in leaps and bounds. Practice gratitude, and practice it often. Smile, and smile often. And above everything, I hope you never forget, to be you. Because you’re unique. And irreplaceable. And no one can ever play your role, on the stage that Shakespeare calls a world.

Love,

A much older version of yourself.

 

Is Freedom really ‘free’?

And it’s that time of the year again.

Saffron, white and green are the flavors of the month. Every traffic signal is crowded by hawkers selling ‘Independence-Day’ themed merchandise – badges, flags, wristbands and what not. Every Bollywood movie channel this month plays films made to bring out the patriot in me – biopics on our freedom fighters, a movie about a gang of carefree friends turning into national heroes taking on the government, erstwhile period dramas, and so on. And if that were not enough,  my neighborhood bakery’s come out with an entire Independence Day menu – cupcakes, sandwiches, cookies, draped in colors of the Indian flag. And in this month’s spirit of nationalism, all of these wares are selling like hot cakes.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for celebration, and commemoration of our Independence Day. For completion of 70 years of the world’s largest democracy is no mean feat.  It’s an occasion that definitely demands celebration. Celebration of the fact that today, we’re a young, dynamic, energetic, vibrant, fast-growing economy. Yes, we’ve got several bottlenecks and loopholes that need resolution, but we’ve reached a stage where the world takes us seriously. We’re no longer the outsourced work community, but rather the innovators, the value creators, and entrepreneurs, contributing a great deal to the global ecosystem at large.

And all of this has been possible, because we’re a free nation.

But then, are we, truly?

While we’ve become adept at exercising, occasionally even demanding our freedom, somewhere along the way, we may have also forgotten that with freedom, comes power. And adding to that, if I may quote my childhood superhero Spiderman, With great power, comes great responsibility. Which means that freedom isn’t just a right, its also a responsibility. It isn’t just a perk, its also a duty. You can’t have one without the other, and somewhere unfortunately, we might have forgotten that along the way.

And as a futuristic Indian, that concerns me.

An instance in point, freedom of expression of speech. Blatantly, this means that as a citizen of the country, you have the right to speak your mind. But that does give us the freedom to, well literally, say whatever the hell we want? Tweet away to our hearts content, till there’s no opinion that we’ve kept to ourselves. Write open letters where we openly shame, ridicule, judge, criticize, malign and scorn each other. Make national news out of everything, right from the latest celebrity weight gain to the recent neighborhood brawl. Free media, particularly in case of a democracy, in supposed to be boon, a privilege. Unfortunately, on many an occasion, it also becomes a two-faced sword. Take the numerous instances in the past few months, where our media has gone from being the mouthpiece of the nation, to a circus. Or even, a battlefield for revenging personal vendetta. Freedom of speech may be the right, but responsible speech is the give-back duty that’s clearly missing, particularly as far as a majority of our journalists, politicians, even celebrities are concerned.

Another kind of freedom, that’s grossly being misused is the freedom to practice secularism. Our Constitution screams that we’re a secular state. Which clearly means that as a nation, we believe in coexistence and cohabitation, where each person is entitled to practice individual faith, religion and lifestyle as they desire. Yet time and again, I see secular freedom of minorities being harmed. Staple food for one community being banned, because another considers in poison. Making religious practices of one community, a forced practice for an entire region. And unfortunately, more often than not, the drivers of such occurrences aren’t exactly benevolent intentions, but rather fulfillment of personal agenda. Practicing freedom is synonymous tp practicing tolerance. And when you’re not tolerant, you’re not free.

I’m not exactly a fan of any kind of moral policing – bondage, or dictatorship, or censorship.  So I’m not making the argument that the solution to end misuse of freedom is to revoke it. Rather, on the contrary, it is to reinforce it. In an educated, responsible manner. Individually and collectively. Checks and measures are what need to be practiced internally, not through some external force. Through self-censure, and mutual respect. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither will be our very own India. But appropriate use of freedom, is most certainly a step forward in the long journey in building a nation that I’d like to someday describe as truly ‘free’.

Decoding ‘Passion’-the millennial buzzword

                                       It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.

The above aphorism isn’t just how one of my favorite books, A Tale of Two Cities, begins. It’s an adage that can well describe the times we live in today, too. And even more so, where the millennial generation is concerned. A millennial myself, I’d say safely, that we’re a much more confused, demanding, and impatient lot as compared to our fathers and forefathers. Yet, paradoxically, we’re also in many ways, a more ambitious, driven and sorted bunch of kids, each trying to claim his or her place under the sun. We’re competitive, yet believe in the power of coexistence. We tend to place tremendous importance on material pleasures and creature comforts, yet in many ways, we’re a lot less judgmental than our ancestors.

We party late till wee hours of the morning, yet we’re obsessed with fitness & morning marathons. We dream of owning Rolls-Royces and private jets, yet we’re also the social entrepreneurs, striving to make the world a better place, environmentally, developmentally, and even demographically. We’re disconnected, yet, in ways, even more connected.

A generation of contrasts. Divided, yet united. And if there’s one word that rings in unison, it’s passion. A term occasionally even overused, I’d say. Yet, passion is what acts as a major driver, taking us to our destinations. Passion isn’t just a buzzword in our dictionaries, its a core part of our DNAs. Other than passion, we’re also a generation with courage, the courage to believe in our dreams, the courage to take a stand, and most importantly, the courage to pay of price that individuality occasionally demands.

Somewhere along the course of my voracious reading, I came across an article, Why Generation Y Yuppies are Unhappy which dug deep into the explanation why the millennial generation is relatively unhappier, as compared to the generations that came before them. And the deep-rooted logic did make a lot of sense, which is why I’m reiterating it here. On average, our grandparents’ generation, across the globe, lived in times of tremendous global turmoil. The World Wars, the Cold War, the Partition in India (which my own grandparents were first-hand witnesses to). Time underlined by unrest and suffering. For most born and brought in this era, self- survival, and protection of close kin became the sole agenda for their existence.

Our parents’ generation, most of whom saw the suffering their parents had undergone, understood the importance of stability in day-to-day life. A stable job, decent money, a happy family – became life goals for this generation, determined to give their children what most of them didn’t have access to – good education being a prime example.

And the succeeding generation, our generation, that reaped the seeds sown generations before. We hadn’t seen the struggles of our grandfathers, and we got access to the love, money and care of our fathers. An improved educational system, free media and rapid globalization ensured that we didn’t remain holed up in a shell. Added to that, the emergence of the internet, which made geography practically irrelevant.

And if you’d ask me, it is some of these major transitions that aided a free-spirited mind, independent thought, giving rise to individuality, occasional rebellion, and deep-seated creativity, among the generations that yearns for separate, independent identities. Personal interests, ranging from travel to fencing to philately, emerged into ‘passions’. And open acceptance of these passions meant breaking down of barriers, as far as traditional roles were considered. Emergence and meteoric growth of new industries like Advertising, Pharma & the various dot-com ventures gave rise to innumerable new professions, ending the notion of having to be a doctor, lawyer or teacher to lead a respectable life.

What markedly differentiates this generation, is that they don’t separate work from life. They want to make a good living, and they want to taste success fast. But the underlining factor here is that they also want to do all of this while they’re having fun. They’re brave. They’re bold. They’re always ‘on’ and on-the-go. And with their  professional, personal and social lives constantly merging into each other, they want to design their lives, to suit a lifestyle they love.

And it most certainly works that the world today is structured in their favor, looking at the fact that there have never been as many creatives, entrepreneurs, scientists and what nots, as there are today. A world where passion, and not money, safety or security becomes a key, if not the only reason behind choice of career, lifestyle and money making option. As for the uncles and aunties and mommies and daddies who keep telling us why we have to be travel bloggers and tech entrepreneurs and tattoo artists, when we could be ‘safe’ things like accountants and engineers, sorry to burst the bubble, but I’d like to believe that this is a fad that’s here to stay. For a good few generations at least, if not more.