From that wild period of time in the desert. My teeth look white and not because of urine, it’s rather all to do with polishing my teeth with coconut oil.
Who knew that once upon a time urine had such immense value that the Romans actually traded in urine! In last month’s Smithsonian news an article about the uses of urine was indeed an interesting eye opener. Of course, over the years I heard about the medicinal qualities of urine; I recall reading the novel Freedom at Midnight, where there was mention of Gandhi’s use of urine, and I also witnessed a friend of mine rubbing urine on a cut. She swore that it was a cure-all for things of that nature. Had I remembered basic chemistry, I would’ve taken her seriously, but there were other extraneous circumstances that sort of pushed that piece of information to the wayside. Read More
The Compromise,” is part 2 of my series titled The Male Perspective, a monologue that I wrote long ago about the complex relationship between a guy and his girlfriend. Usually, we hear this type of subject matter from a female perspective, so I thought why not look at things from the male perspective for a change. What makes this monologue fun is that it’s written by me, so inadvertently it’s about how I perceive men in relationships. It’s split into small little chapters only a page long, usually, which makes for a quick, fun read. How does this connect with The Diary of a Wrinkle? Well, it still involves women’s issues that we can easily relate to. Read More
I’ve decided to begin posting a monologue that I wrote long ago about the complex relationship between a guy and his girlfriend. Usually, we hear this type of subject matter from a woman’s perspective, so I thought why not look at things from the male perspective for a change. What makes this monologue fun is that it’s written by me, so inadvertently it’s about how I perceive men in relationships. It’s split into small little chapters only a page long, usually, which makes for a quick, fun read. How does this connect with The Diary of a Wrinkle? Well, it still involves women’s issues that we can easily relate to. Read More
Old Hollywood Blvd (photo credit, LA Public Library).
For those of us who know the truth—that Hollywood-type glamour only exists in the movies, the classics that is—the idea of glamorous Hollywood Boulevard still resonates in our minds because of our penchant for romanticizing about the past. Even so, a couple of weeks ago I decided to give Hollywood Boulevard yet another chance; it had been about eight years since the last time I visited there, and the memory of my disillusionment and disappointment when I realized that Hollywood Boulevard was nothing but an overrated, and overcrowded dump, had become a distant memory—enough for me to go there one more time. Read More
Maya and Ilana at the Western Wall, Israel.
What does a blog about wrinkles have to do with the ultra-Orthodox in Israel? Well, it’s about women’s civil rights for a start, in a modern, democratic country. Also, it’s the type of subject matter that would make you cringe and wrinkle in an instant. I am also aware that writing about this will inevitably create some sort of controversy among those who disagree with my observations. However, I could not help but feel disappointment with the Israeli justice system when I read the news last week about a group of 10 women who were detained by Israeli police after praying at the Western Wall while wearing a prayer shawl across their shoulders. I’m not an expert in all matters religious, but I am somewhat knowledgeable in the field and anyone secular living in Israel is aware of ultra-Orthodox piety taking over mainstream Israeli life. Read More
My sister posing for our book cover.
Not so recently, it’s been months and months and probably well over a year now, that my sister and I had embarked on this cookbook project together, and something that we both thought of as a great idea at first, and probably an easy one at best, had become one difficult project indeed. Probably the most difficult project that I had encountered for sure; even more difficult than Law School. And as for my sister, well, you have to read the book to understand what she had to go through. Some of my critics despise the idea that I have tailored this book for the “Woman Who Hates Cooking,” when there are plenty of men who share the same sentiment, and yet nobody really complains about their inability to perform in the kitchen. My intentions were never to alienate anyone when writing this book, I realize that just as many men hate to cook, and plenty of men share the burden of daily cooking for their families. I know all of this. But it’s a fact that most women are expected to cook for their family, even when both men and women are equally busy with careers, and raising a family; it just so happens that it’s the woman who takes the reins most times. My sister is a prime example of this; she hates cooking, works just as hard as her husband, and yet still finds herself having to prepare practically every meal in the house. My husband is no different, although he may divorce me after reading this—but I can be as sick as a dog—and when it comes to dinner time, he will still ask what’s for dinner? Read More
Apparently, the arms are the least attractive part of the female body! Funny, but I don’t feel this way at all, but it’s a fact according to Desmond Morris in his book, The Naked Woman, A Study of the Female Body. The safest place to touch a woman, in a non-sexual way, is on her arm. If we were to think of the arms in evolutionary terms, then perhaps this makes a little bit more sense because the arms used to be our front legs. When man began to straighten up, those front legs transformed into very important tools to help us grip, climb, throw etc. Typically, the female’s arm is much more delicate than a male’s arm; naturally men are more attracted to the slender arm, rather than that of a female body builder where her forearms are over developed and very bulgy. The male’s longer and stronger forearm is a testament to their evolutionary purpose, to be the aimer and thrower, reminds us Morris. Who knew, but even our elbow angle differs from that of the male’s. Their wider shoulders keep the arms dangling away from the body, as opposed to the female design, and this is another one of those important gender signals. Read More
Leon with his father, Chemush, outside their home, Bloemfontein, South Africa.
On this blog I like to present different types of thought provoking material, and this time I have chosen another poem that deserves your attention. More often than not, we are so consumed with our modern-day lives that anything from the past either, movies, radio, even books seem unnecessary because for some people they are not as relevant anymore. However, take a moment to enrich yourselves, and read this beautiful poem written by a man who had experienced Apartheid in South Africa, and his memory is that of a young boy surrounded by prejudice and apathy. He possesses a sense of humor and straightforward honesty throughout his recollections that make his experience all the more biting and relevant. Politics and policy intertwined with everyday life. “Snippets of Memory–A Work in Progress,” is a poem written by Leon Levinsky, my father. Read More
Light skin, light eyes, straight hair = perfection, so it seems.
How many of us have seen a commercial on television for a skin lightening wash used to lighten the genitals? If you live in India then you would nod your head, and acknowledge this phenomenon. It’s no secret that in many different societies there are certain beauty ideals that would make westerners raise an eyebrow, and under the same token those societies that we deem as holding the strangest ideals and beauty regimens would feel the same about us. Not many societies promote the look of stick-thin women with artificial looking beauty or consider such a look remotely appealing. However, as much as we already know about different beauty ideals from around the world, even the Indians’ preference for lighter skin, I still managed to feel surprised by something that I had read in an article posted by the BBC News Magazine about Indian women and their concern for fair skinned vaginas. Read More
This is the fabulous Veena in one of her poses
The last thing that most men want to hear from their wives is that they would like to go dancing with them. Fully aware of my husband’s aversion to dance, I nevertheless asked him to join me for swing dancing lessons a few years ago. There was the initial frown, as if I had spoken in a foreign language, and he could not understand; after repeating myself one more time, he shrugged his shoulders, scratched his head but surprisingly, he joined me. I’m not sure whether it was plain ignorance or his way of punishing me, but he always wore his Timberlands to our dance lessons—it made his hitch-kick quite cumbersome and painful to watch, but most of all it was uncomfortable for my poor shins. After realizing that he would not only be dancing with me, because the routine was such that we were made to switch partners all the time, he quit and that was the last time we ever danced together. No need for tissues, the way that my husband dances I’d rather dance alone any time.
Fast forward to a few days ago when I mentioned to my husband that I was going for a pole dancing lesson. Read More