Well, another semester zoomed pass by me and not just metaphorically. This semester had too many holidays at least way too much for our college. Thanks to our student welfare committee we got ample time on this semester to laze around and basically do nothing except for staring at ceilings and walls. Don’t worry I am not going crazy. But I think, this semester was like one of those where you get an existential crisis and you want to ask yourself, what am I doing with my life. You especially have them during exams when you look at the books and feel like tearing them apart because and as God as my witness, those books were not really helping me with anything in life.

I had three new subjects this semester, Family Law, Economics and Law and Sociology and Law. The two subjects that carried on from the previous semester were Contracts and Criminal Law but with a slight twist.

Contracts, this time, was more focused on Sale of Goods and Partnership Acts. Yes instead of studying one act properly, we read three Acts and let me tell I don’t think I know jack. I gave the exams in which I will hopefully pass, but the question is, do I know anything. *flashbacks of existential crisis*. The running joke of the semester was the term our Contracts teacher used for our Partnership teacher. He couldn;t remember her name so he called her ‘Partnership madam’ and since then that is what is her name for generations to come… “Partnership Madam”. Contracts was very boring, it literally lacked life in any form whatsoever. Not that Contracts 1 was any better, but I knew what was going on. If, in the middle of deep slumber, my teacher would ask me a question in class, I could answer it but this time, I either wanted to strangle myself. The subject was excruciatingly painful. Partnership was a whole other story in itself. I don’t know if there one single partnership class in which I have paid attention. Or my research paper in partnership. It was so damn funny and yet I was lauded for it. See that was it, there was nothing inspiring me to excel and better myself and  my efforts.

Nest was Family Law or as my teacher puts it – FAMILY is Father And Mother I Love You. When she said this, I gave on this subject and my life. At that point, I wanted to run somewhere and laugh my guts out. I mean just how can such things be conceived and then believed by people who have actually done Ph.D in their lives and it is their livelihood. I realised we almost spent 3/4 of the semester on Hindu Law and then 1/4 on Muslim Law and the others were not there in the picture at all but I guess, again the semester was quite short so maybe she couldn’t fit it in. Of course, how can I forget her impeccable pronunciation. I think if I would be speaking something like “This section should be interpreted like…” I would end up saying “This section should be interpretated”. As my spell check goes berserk telling me this is the wrong spell, I wish someone would tell my Fam teacher as well. She says it so many times in a class that it has crept into our subconscious and we end up saying it unconsciously, we need a break to take it out of our brains slowly using housebreaking implements and tools.

Then was Criminal Law. Last time Criminal Law was focussed on the IPC or the Indian Penal Code which is the substantive law and, this time, we learnt the CrPC or the procedural law. We had three, yes three, teachers. And everyone has their own teaching styles. One of our previous teachers continued hence that was a teensy bit of relief. The other two were running their own one-man shows. First the younger one who has this weird walking stance. You can imagine two springs, the ones which you wind using a key, attached to his shoulders. Those springs would release very few minutes and he would jerk his arms which would wind up the springs again and the cycle repeated itself every few minutes. This one believed in giving cases by the score. I was reading cases over Diwali imagine, Diwali! Eventually, I and my friends decided to split it up as it was simply too much. The second older one is an enigma. I think that he thinks that he knows too much and is nothing short of demigod but frankly he is nothing better than Alice in the Wonderland (my apologies if you love that story). He would come, rant about the state and then go, come next day and taunt us on our lack of knowledge of the previous class and then continue with his routine. Now who would tell him that if he would actually teach something worthwhile we would pay attention.

We also had Economics and Law.I don’t really know what the teacher taught because the entire semester either she was on a holiday or she wold assign portions to students who would have to teach it in class. We literally just read the book and went to give our exams.

Sociology! After and a half months of ‘discussing’ sociology I can tell you that I am very grateful to my first year Political science teacher. You ask why? Well had he not taught us so genuinely well last year I would have had a breakdown while trying to learn what our Socio teacher was teaching us and the joke is that the alma mater of both of them is the same. We had to learn the slides and just go and vomit it out. That is about it.

But the highlight of this semester was Virudhka 2015, the sports fest organised by NLIU Bhopal. Oh have I told you that I play volleyball. I had represented my school at various levels but this time was my college. That place has such a huge camps that my college would just fit in one corner of its grounds. But they did not give us food. very annoyed :/ We were dehydrated to our very cores. But that place was quite fun to play mainly because they had proper facilities, not like us where we have to play 9 on 9 volleyball matches on a badminton court. Oh and yes, we won a gold in volleyball and the best contingent overall. Three cheers for NLU Delhi!!!

I can’t really remember anything else that happened which was exciting and fun because well I was generally at home because of the holidays. So yeah marks will be out in a few weeks and I would become 3/10 of a lawyer.



Dear Aunties,
Metro Trains,
Delhi Metro,

If you don’t feel offended by me calling you aunty then we can focus on a few issues that I have come across in the metro trains, to my discomfort and possibly to your chagrin. The issues that I would like to highlight have been deeply and keenly observed by me over a considerable period of time and I can assure you that these are not at all unfounded. First, if you know you have to travel in the metro, I never get the point of wearing heavy sarees in the metro, I seriously don’t. It is excusable when one has to go to a wedding or a function but wearing clothes that are bound to slow you down in the metro is just pointless. Next, STAY BEHIND THE YELLOW LINE!!! They make that line to protect you not themselves. Please learn to stay behind it because if you fall over, well lets just leave it there. They even make announcements for that too and I am sure people who run something as efficient as the metro are not crazy. Thirdly, STAY BEHIND THE YELLOW LINE EVEN IF THE TRAIN IS ABOUT TO STOP!!! I never understand why do you have this instinct of moving that half an inch forward as if that half inch will get you inside the train first. In the previous point you could fall over but here you your face could just stick to the metro. Fourthly, if you don’t get a seat, the world will not come to an end. Everytime, the ladies push you as if, if they get a seat inside the metro they will have conquered the world. A batchmate of mine who is from Bangalore hadn’t travelled in the metro so we decided to take him for a ride and he the poor mannered child ill-versed in the ways and means of the metro was standing at the door when it opened and an auntie started to inch ahead of him so he let her go forward first but he did not know that he had opened the floodgates because we had to forcefully pull him in over the sea of people he had unwittingly let go before him. Please there are older ladies than you who are standing in the metro and you rather prefer to talk to them about how pathetic and shameless the younger generation is because not even one is ready to vacate their seats. Or you know the urge to get to a seat can be better described as the way women stand outside stores that have declared a sale and the doors to infinite bliss of shopping are just about to open. Fifthly, probably this is what irritates me the most. The longer seats in the trains have 6 seats but because they are joined together women thing, they could just ask other women to just scooch over. That for me is particularly uncivilised. How can you ask someone to move to create some space so that you can squeeze in your ass. The funnier part is that the women could be almost falling off but NO, they cannot relinquish their seats as if it is against some religious tenets. Oh and the loud talking on the phone. Why do you have to tell what you have cooked at your home to everyone in the metro, please only tell it to the person you are talking to. I always lose my concentration while reading something. Reading is a slightly intellectually stimulating and hence requires a bit of focus you see. And it is a joy ride when a long lost friend or a relative has called or you want to dictate how to cook something. My worst nightmares aren’t as bad as that and I have had my full of those.

I have after a careful thought tendered this letter to your consideration. I hope you will take some action.

A discomforted Metro Traveller


Daily soaps consume a large part of the day hours and conversations of the Indian women irrespective of the fact that they are working or not. The ladies may not know how many times did Md. Ghori invade India but they know how many wives does the lead of their favourite show has. Faiths, religions and loyalties, drilled from the childhood are transcended when it comes to the daily soaps. Unlike English shows that sir for about a month every year, producers of the Indian shows need to have the determination and pockets deep enough to fuel the shows for about 3-4 years 5-6 times a week.

Those women who do not work have an excuse of  not having anything to do but the Indian TV industry has managed to capture the imagination of well educated professionals. They expectantly wait for the clock to strike so that they can watch their favorite shows. It escapes me as to what compels the women to watch these shows. The best explanation I came up with was that the women idolize the heroines of the shows and would want their lives to be like that of their favourite heroines. They would want their lives to be replete with all they see with the heroines. The most important not being acting but the clothes and jewelry.

I am usually chided for being too English in my choice on TV but I have simple explanation, whichever show it is the story line does NOT CHANGE. What you need is:

  • A hero and heroine that somewhat dislike each other in the beginning and then slowly fall in love.
  • A villain, usually the mother or the sister in law of the hero.
  • One of the leads will have a higher status in the society.
  • The family of the hero or the heroine will have someone who is deranged to provide an alternate route for the story to progress when the main story doesn’t have anything new.
  • Either protagonist will have a secret that they hide from the spouse, fearing that they would “break their heart”.
  • If the secret involves a person, he/she would come back to give the leads to give a hell ride.
  • Every episode uses at least 1 ltr of glycerin.
  • The hero has to marry minimum thrice.
  • Heroines are selfless and even if they discover a discrepancy, they won’t tell because they are good and wouldn’t shame the wrong doer.
  • The villain will have a strange background music played at each entrance.
  • And each times everything falls into place, a new problem raises its head.


But the determination and talent of the story  writers in commendable. They manage to round off even the most absurd twist in the story, at the edges and make it seem plausible and try to present something new to the audiences.


In the embellished line of the kings of the Mughal empire,

Came she, with the ferocity of fire,

Justifying her name, sun among women,

Bold, courageous and maverick yet feminine,

Women most endearing,

Princesses of the most noble bearing,

Couldn’t lay hands on the one man they all wanted,

Because she stood in their way, undaunted,

From behind her veil the played the empire’s game,

Emperor, just not only in name,

For she was Empress Nur Jahan, the Queen Begum,

Spreading light from her four walls of the harem.

Many queens have been known to fight endlessly to stop their sovereignty going into the hands of the colonial powers, but what do you do when the  enemies or rather enemies are very well inside the palace. One such Empress I read about recently Empress Nur Jahan, thee main queen during the reign of Emperor Jahangir. She was his twentieth wife but she wielded so much power over him that, after her he never married and considered rather did what she said in the imperial matters. Farmans (royal orders)  were signed and coins minted in her name, fulfilling two out of three conditions to be a sovereign. The third was that during prayers the rulers name was to be called out.

Many Englishmen who came to India  during the reign of Jahangir out-rightly point out that the king was a puppet in the hands of the queen because of which he was even ridiculed, but he did not mind it. Nur Jahan was even able to regulate the Jahangir’s intake of opium and wine which clearly pointed out her influence. She commanded lands that were most fertile or involved with in a heavy amount of trade and an amount of horses that was more than that of an army commander or even the princes.

She was born In Kandahar, practically in a tent without basic amenities. The family, fleeing from Persia, did not have enough money to feed themselves, were perplexed about how to feed the new member of the family and thus decided to leave her to fend for herself at birth. But, destiny had to have its way, she found her way back to them. She grew up in Agra into a striking beauty but ore admirable was her insatiable thirst for knowledge and she realised pretty soon that it was knowledge that  brought power. Empress at the time, Ruqayya Begum, wife of Jahangir’s father King Akbar employed her as a lady in waiting and she was her favourite. She showed her the ropes of the ways of the imperial harem which later proved to be very useful to vanquish her most prominent rival at the harem Jagat Gosini, Jahangir’s second wife and the mother of the next emperor Shah Jahan.

Nur Jahan started her journey as Mehrunnisa or Sun among Women, married first to Ali Quili, later titled as Sher Afghan as he saved Jahangir from a tiger attack, as Akbar wanted Ali Quilli to be a part of the imperial army imparting, this need to his intelligence at valour at the battlefield. After thirteen years of marriage, a girl was born to the oddly matched couple. Mehrunnisa named her Ladli or the Loved One. But soon after her birth Quili died but not before killing Mirza Aziz Koka, a brother like entity to Jahangir. After four years, Ruqayya Begum was instrumental in rekindling lost love between the King and her most beloved Begum.

Jahangir’s harem consisted of more than 300 hundred women but none came close to Nur Jahan, a title bestowed by the king himself at the wedding. She defeated powerful enemies like Mahabat Khan & Muhammad Sharif, childhood cohorts of the king and ofcourse, Jagat Gosini, the Empress before her with the patience and agility of a fox, she slowly spread her tentacles into everything that came under the purview of the Emperor. She even managed to play both the Portuguese and the English into providing security to her ships from each other. She signed and entered into treaties. Her seal couldn’t be revoked even by the king himself.

Probably the only failed was getting a suitable groom for her daughter. She wanted her to marry Prince Khurram later Shah Jahan, the next emperor. But, because he was so deeply in love with Arjumand Begum or Mumtaz Mahal, evident from the construction of the greatest monument on the face of the earth: The Taj Mahal and the fact that he did not marry after her death. But jahangir was a niche higher. he had handed over practically the entire empire in her hands albeit he did not construct a monument as grand as his son’s creation yet he and Mehrunnisa were considered one entity later on.