I'd seen it before, I’d laughed at it before, I’d even sent it before, yet, there was this dying urge inside of me to see it, to laugh at it, to send it once more. It had occurred to me that maybe I was addicted, maybe I couldn’t get enough, maybe I couldn’t stop. Despite this, I continued, hour after hour, failing to remove myself from the unholy grave known as YouTube.
YouTube was supposed to be my escape, my freedom, an uncertified ritual. It seemed to remove me from the fears, the nerves, and the piling homework on my desk. YouTube was the unofficial language of fun and culture, consuming me with words, dance moves, comic sketches, literally everything.
Throughout school, it seemed like everyone was addicted. People would talk about the latest video they saw, the YouTuber with the most subscribers, or the clip of a celebrity who lip synced. It seemed almost cruel to have not watched those videos, especially when you had nothing to contribute to the conversation. It became the reason kids got an hour less of sleep, the reason their mind could not fully grasp the new concepts at school, the reason their eyes looked like two big shopping bags every morning. YouTube was the accepted drug.
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Elephant and Donkey Tribes of Politics
The Motorcycle Guru Speaks.
On Feminism
It has been eight months since I started my MFA at Bennington College. In the last eight months I have cooked half a dozen meals. I pack my children lunches and I clean up the kitchen after my husband when he makes dinner for the family after he comes home from working in a Silicon Valley tech company. Cooking has never moved me. Motherhood has—but not the baggage of social dos and don'ts that accompanied it. I have done fewer play dates than the meals I have cooked in the past few months, and I rarely go to a birthday party. My husband takes the children to their social engagements. “But is this fair?” you might ask and I answer, “It is not about fairness, it is about what moves you as a person and how to keep that flame of what keeps you alive, burning within you, while negotiating roles in an adult world that still largely favors men over women.”
Of Wedding Bells And Hospital Bills
Not another invite,” I groaned, picking up a thick cream and red colored envelope.
A New Lease Of Life
How an Indian grandmother started making heart-healthy choices.
A Mother Loses Her Child: Fact And Fiction Coalesce
LUCKY BOY by Shanthi Sekaran. G.P. Putnam’s Sons, an imprint of Penguin Random House, New York. 472 pages. Hardcover. $27.00
From The Hood Without A Loo
TOILET: A LOVE STORY. Director Shree Narayan Singh. Players: Akshay Kumar, Bhumi Padnekar, Anupam Kher, Sudhir Pandey, Divyendu Sharma, Subha Khote. Hindi w/ Eng. Sub-tit. (Viacom).
Life, Liberty, And The Pursuit Of Happiness
A LIFE OF ADVENTURE AND DE- LIGHT by Akhil Sharma. W.W. Norton & Company, Inc.: New York. 202 pages. wwnorton.com $24.95 hardcover.
Who Was Enid Blyton?
Raised in and out of India, I don’t remember reading too many Enid Blyton novels—barring those from the Noddy series. I knew, though, they were all the rage among girls—mostly girls. They’d spend hours reading them and like fish in a school, prattle over what they’d read over their lunchboxes.
Victoria And Abdul: It Looks A Lot Like Love
VICTORIA AND ABDUL. Director: Stephen Frears. Screenwriter: Lee Hall, based on book by Shrabani Basu. Cast: Judi Dench, Ali Fazal, Eddie Izzard, Adeel Akhtar, Tim Pigott-Smith and Michael Gambon. Focus Features, 2017. MPAA Rating: PG-13
Looters, Schemers And A Curse
Koh-i-Noor: The History of the World’s Most Infamous Diamond.
