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Adulting?

Several months after turning 30, after over a decade of being able to vote, drive and consume alcohol (except in Maharashtra, where I’ve been legally drinking only since the past 5 years!), I can say I feel like an adult. However, before you jump to conclusions - this post isn’t going to be a rant about the dark side of adulting – the endless chores, bills and to-do lists.
(I’ll save that for a post about the privileges of moving to a “developed” country, i.e. where one is confronted daily with classic cases of choice overload. Choices are abundant e.g. disposing of garbage into the appropriate bin, which of the myriad of highly specific Sunday-quiet day laws to break, what obscure cycling-traffic rules to ignore, and the like.)
Adulting came to me in a big bundle, which is why I am so aware of it having arrived. The same time that I turned 30, I started to work at the organisation I had set my sights on years ago. I also moved to my very own little apartment, in a small (by my standa…
Recent posts

The Ugly Truth

In the times of Trump, and, closer to home – communal hatred increasing every day in India – what I am about to say is trivial. But I will say it anyway. Because it is my story. And because maybe someone will stumble across is just when they need to, and it will help them for a moment to feel less alone.
A few days ago I went out with a friend. It got late, and we were at a bar. While she enjoyed herself, I realised I had had enough and wanted to go home. She refused to leave, so I left her and went home. Then I felt worried and guilty. She was alone in a new city, exhausted and had one too many drinks for me to be able to go to bed with peace of mind. So I did what any decent friend would do (I hope) – I went back for her.
I reached the bar and located her flirting with the macho guy who I had already seen kiss 3 girls that evening. I asked her if she wanted to stay with him, and she said again that she just wanted to get rid of him and go home. So I asked her to leave, get away from…

The Jigsaw

Recently some people have asked why I’ve stopped writing my blog. To me, its obvious that this isn’t the case at all. However, I see that I only wrote 2 posts last year – the least ever since I started in 2010. I am not sure why – the easy answer would be the lack of time. Of course, that is hardly ever the truth. Writing for me is and always has been a way to process experiences and feelings. 2018 though, it left me feeling drained. Not necessarily in a bad way. Just a LOT to process. A year where I moved 2 cities and 4 homes, started 2 new jobs – both very different from one another. Moving cities though always exhausting, was a breeze because falling in love with Berlin was so very easy. The work however…
Berlin 2018 was just downright mad. A medium sized event is the funniest thing to work on. Its too small for you to REALLY be able to make a huge difference to its success or failure, yet its not large enough to ignore or hide behind anonymity when the crazy shit hits the roof. Wit…

Das ist Berlin

Wenn man sich schön macht, auch wenn’s hässlich ist – Berlin, Berlin, Berlin Und wenn Stefan plötzlich Steffi ist – Berlin, Berlin, Berlin Wenn das alles geht und du dich fragst, wie das zusammenpasst. Das ist Berlin, Berlin, Berlin – Berlin, Berlin, Berlin
I’ve returned from a journey. A long, exhausting, exciting, amazing 6-month long trip.
I started at Tegel airport. It’s where I landed to try and conquer the interview and the big, not so bad city of Berlin. In the beginning, the plan was to put one foot in front of the other, slowly, surely.
U-Bhf Seestr. From the airport to Seestrasse, which would eventually become my house for a few months. Not a home, but a good-sized house, shared with people who made me dread climbing those 4 flights of stairs. Its fair to say that I got off to a lukewarm start on my journey through Berlin.
U-Bhf Oranienburger Tor. Auguststrasse. As I walked around this neighbourhood, I could feel the creativity brimming through the dilapidated walls. August…

Interviewing for dummies, aber auf Deutsch

Today I’m going to do something that I’ve never quite done before, in over 7 years of writing this blog. I’m going to give useful, practical and tangible tips. Or at least tips that are in my mind, all of the aforementioned. Its possible that I am just writing them down to commit to my own memory, and I will just deign to share. Whatever the reasoning, here goes.
The last 6 months of my life, after finishing my Masters, has been about finding a job. Although I’ve been very realistic that there’s no perfect job, I have been very picky. So these tips are probably not that relevant if you are looking for just any job, which many times is a necessity to pay bills. But these tips are about when you want to put yourself out there to find a job that you wont hate going to, and that gives you a chance to challenge yourself. Now these jobs don’t come by easy. There’s a shortage of them out there, and when they do, it takes a huge effort to walk away feeling like you’ve given it absolutely ev…

Parasport in India

Being Indian means a lot of different things for different people, but one thing that is standard is the sometimes overwhelming feeling of being almost weighed down by thousands of years of culture. So when I started thinking about writing this article on the journey and development of parasport in India, I decided to begin at the begining – by looking at the two major Sanksrit epics on ancient India: The Ramayana and the Mahabharata. Historians may not agree on whether this is history or mythology, and the exact dates of origin are unknown, but some scholars have managed to agree on a date of about 5561 B.C. Whether the specific events actually took place or not, these works serve as a study of the evolution of species, and it is said that every emotion concievable to humankind has been outlined and dealt with by the complex characters in these stories. So what better place to start looking at India’s view towards the differently abled?
There are a few major references to disabilitie…

The Pool Asi

Asi, my current favourite German slang, comes from the word Asozial, literally translating to “asocial.” A site named Fluentu (yes, that’s the name!) explains, “this is a word used to describe someone who is rude or annoying and doesn’t take into account the effects of their actions on other people”.
In other words, an asshole. Thus translated, it loses its pungency, so I am going to stick to Asi for this post. I’ve been reading this book called Assholes, which defines, categorises and then puts forward a theory of why assholes exist and supposedly tips on how to deal with them (I haven’t got that far yet). But I have realised that a very important category of assholes has been left out of the book – the swimming pool Asi.
The swimming pool Asi is unique in his infuriation value, since there’s generally no peaceful escape unless you chose to end your swim and leave. This special type of Asi is either unwilling or unable to utilise their sense of sight or decency to follow the basicall…