alice's peephole

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 disabi

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 follo

I struggled with the idea of home.  Home is where the heart is? My heart is scattered across 3 continents – with the people I love, the places that helped me grow into the person I am. Home is where your bed is? I have moved 10 houses and beds in the last 6 years. Home is where the wifi connects automatically. Don’t even get me started on that one!  For 2 years Kölle is where I lived. For the last 1 year it felt truly like home. Whether it was sitting by the freely flowing Rhein and sipping wine, waiting for the Dom to be lit up or afternoons spent lazing on the field overlooking the Stadion and listening to the roar of the 1 FC fans; cheering the Haie onto thrilling last minute goals in the Lanxass Arena or waking up at 7 am to dress up and start drinking for Karneval; walking the streets of the Altstadt alone or sitting huddled in a dorm room drinking homemade alcohol out of mugs with friends from all over – it has been a spectacular year, filled to the brim with memories t