MY PIANO TEACHER LIVED two floors below us. A large lady with a stentorian voice and glasses dangling on her ample bosom, she caressed the ivories with a passion most teenagers reserve for romps in the hay. Single and living alone, music was her life and her students her family. That she was a stellar pianist and painstaking teacher was overshadowed by how the grandmothers of the building, mine included, viewed her. Miss Printer, you see, couldn’t keep her legs together.
TAKING OFF from Dilnavaz’s post on menstruation and the shame surrounding it, what I find particularly irritating are the practical implications of this at a workplace. In most offices, men and women work in close quarters and it can get really awkward because one is expected to hide something that’s so integral and, well, regular. Depending on how conservative the office is (although I have known this to be a taboo topic even in ‘free’ work atmospheres), there can be a veritable dance of deception. [Read More]
THESE QUESTIONS go out to the ladies who have lived any part of their lives in India: Ever been sanitary napkin/ tampon shopping? Ever had your purchases wrapped up in a newspaper/ bag, “safe” from the eyes of the world? Now here’s my gnawing question: Why?
Menstruation is a topic that is very rarely talked about in any public space. [Read More]
