The Harsh Reality

Every gathering of Indian aunties somehow winds up on the topic of the success and failure of their children. It was at one such event that I overheard my mother’s friend speaking, once again, of her son’s latest success. I did not miss the bitter look on the others’ faces as she spoke. It then occurred to me that I too would like to have a child. I want a child who is responsible. My child must wake up before me, cook breakfast, pack lunch, wake me up, and ensure I get to work before going to school. However, my child must never be late to school, must stay on top of schoolwork, and graduate high school with at least a 5.0 GPA. My child must go to an ivy league because I have invested too much time and effort for anything less. My child should be invested in at least 15 extracurriculars, speak 5 languages (fluently), start a non-profit that is successful, and still have time to take care of me. I want a child who will take care of me when I am sick. A child who will take care of any

I always find it strange when I see parents tell their young daughters not to play with what are considered toys ‘made’ for boys. When I was young, my parents never bothered to make such a distinction, even when I showed more of an interest in a car than a doll house. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy playing with dolls, it’s just that I found cars to be more fun. I felt that cars were so much more relatable than dolls because I hadn’t really been exposed as much to the world of television where Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse reigned supreme. Instead, I enjoyed the fun that came with car rides. It represented, to my young mind, a sense of adventure. It meant that we could go anywhere we wanted to and all we had to do was get in. In fact, I could very much blame my dad for my addiction to cars. He had a collection of model cars that were displayed all over our house, so I basically grew up around them. I distinctly remember the black Lamborghini Gallardo Superleggera being the car of my d

I’ve always found it interesting that people believe the Disney princesses to be weak women who need to be rescued by their respective princes. The greatest example of this is the very first princess Disney came up with: she didn’t even ask for it, yet Cinderella became the ‘American Dream’ of being swept up by a prince and having a happily ever after. Be that as it may, people tend to forget that Cinderella just wanted to go to the ball – she never wanted to be with the prince. While we’re on the topic, let’s talk about the prince for a second. First off, the prince’s name is never actually revealed in the movie, rather he is addressed by his title. This is so shockingly different to the way that Cinderella is addressed: she was always covered in cinder from cleaning the house, so Ella was brutally nicknamed Cinderella by her so-called ‘family’. The contrast between the way they are addressed alludes to the power each holds. The prince is of noble standing and is revered for his posit