How to make the signature tea:

2 teaspoons of sugar and 
1 1/2 teaspoons of tea
set aside for
just over half a cup of 
water 
aggressively boiling

the water will quickly consume the sugar,
but the tea will rile it up,

simmer the fire until
the smell of tea takes your breath away

turn the flame up for a few seconds,
so it's too hot to sip,
and on an early, lucky, Sunday morning

you'll have brun maska to dip

When I searched about this, I came across others’ sharing their own deep and emotional relationships with this variant of pav. Many recall it as an acoompaniment to savoury dishes like kheema or dal. In our household, this was always been a strictly lazy Sunday breakfast.

On a 25 day Europe trip, the only food I got hooked to was sourdough bread, primarily because the crustiness felt like home.

I’d carry some back to Bangalore use them for omelettes and soups, which still felt like an abberation, but I was too scared they’d go bad before the next Sunday. Although they only get better in my experience.

I was shocked how this is not a staple in other cities because for me kadak pav is the bread par excellence. I pray its never sold in plastic bags. Let the paav walas supersede overpackaged centralized distribution of bread.

Bread is decentralized in India, but flour isn’t. I had Ramdev chakki ka aata and the rotis felt straight outta jail.

That’s it. Enjoy.

I’ve had friends and family share the news of the latest addition to the inclusivity fashionistas line by Mattle this past week, and I am grateful for any limelight T1-D gets in mainstream media — still concerning though — because whatever our human race is doing, is resulting in an increasing number of T1-Ds at a rate of 3-5% every year, and that probably makes this also a good strategic move like with the LGBTQ community.

Look, I’m glad for the visibility — a Barbie with an insulin pump is cute — but I wouldn’t confuse that with awareness. Here are 10 things that would actually matter to me — and none of them need pink packaging. ;)

Affordable & Accessible Insulin. Everywhere.

Before we glamorize T1D with glitter, how about we make insulin affordable and accessible — especially in countries where people ration doses or die without it?

Affordability

We pay a 18% GST on many essential medical care devices — and this is not a luxury, this is survival. Here’s an excerpt from the petition from a coalition called IDEALite—including over 3,000 petitioners— urging Finance Minister Nirmala Sitharaman and the GST Council to reduce GST on CGM sensors (and related supplies) which you can sign to show support for a fellow T1D:

Accessibility

When even well-connected metropolitan cities leave me guessing about where to find the right supplies, I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like for T1Ds with limited mobility or those living in less visible geographies. During Pakistan’s 2003 economic crisis, the government halted most imports — including vital pharmaceuticals — leaving Type 1 diabetics scrambling for their elixir in a vial.

Access isn't just about cost — it’s about knowing where to go, who to ask, and how quickly you can act.

• I’ve lost insulin to heat. I’ve dropped five vials of insulin, sprinting my friend circle on an panic med-hunt.

• I've had CGMs close to expiry with no one to pass them on to, simply because I couldn’t find anyone nearby who needed one.

• I’ve been caught in unfamiliar neighborhoods in runs with a sudden hypo — vision fading into a disco daze — with no shop or fruit seller in sight for nearly a kilometer. Lucky my friend sprinted fast enough (twice), to bring back whatever fruits she could find.

• Always planning for 3 levels of back-up because your specific essentials are hard to guarantee in even developed cities.

What I needed in those moments wasn’t just a device or a number. It was the right cue, the right person, the right place — at the right time. It’s not access in theory that saves us. It’s access in proximity, in urgency, in lived reality.

These gaps aren’t always visible — but we feel them all the time.

Innovation

Oh this is a can of worms — but to start,

• Better AI/ML based-predictions, context learning and if not that — at least providing better input options for T1Ds. E.g. I cannot specify the kind of carb I am consuming, and without knowledge of the GI of food consumed, the hybrid-loop systems’ dosage is inaccurate and has shown rather volatile and erratic reactions for me. I need to often balance my meals, but treating hypos can be an open invitation for worse hypers that are overdosed to lead to worse and unpredictable hypos. You can tell I am quite traumatised by some experiences.

• Better industrial design for applying medical devices — they’re not quite optimized yet, IMO. However, still grateful for the devices that exist today — we’ve come a long, long way.

• Vials don’t preserve insulin longer than 3 days (especially in heat) — and patches begin to itch due to the way perspiration is trapped with all the extra stickers required to make sure the CGM captures the readings correctly from the intersitial fluid.

• I’m sure I’ll remember more areas of improvement — and glad that the good ol’ insulin pen welcomes me whenever I’ve had a rough season with all the fancy cybord stuff.

Sensitisation to chronic conditions in schools

From confused kids thinking I’m "injecting drugs", and being gettings stares for having to eating mid-class. I grew up wondering and believing that being able to eat when I need to was a privelege and differential treatment — while this was literally for survival.

It’s not just about T1D. From neurodivergence to asthma to epilepsy, kids deserve to know how chronic conditions affect their peers (and could affect themselves or their loved ones too) — so we build a culture of support, not stigma.

Reflecting on this as a kinda-seasoned adult in her late twenties — I know I carried this fear into my workplace and took time to unlearn and settle into a reality where you need to fend for yourself because nobody else will geddit. 9-5 work environments can get toxic if you lack the vocabulary to draw boundaries and yet not doubt your work-ethic.

The Barbie dons her insulin pump confidently — and I’ve known people who hide their pumps and secretly take injections to avoid stares and questions.

However, Barbie being an inanimate plastic object — I think we still need actual humans to own their condition than hide behind taboos — to lead by example and not preach.

However, is Barbie even the right marketing move?

Pitching pretty dolls with nominal signifiers of a condition/disability — while leaving the storytelling to kids’ imagination — is Mattle’s half-assing what could have been a sincere initiative. Also an 8k (INR) worth plastic mass-produced item with limited features (cannot standalone either) is a questionable choice of marketing strategy — and also gendered.

I also came across this interesting study which found that the Barbie aroused complex and violent emotions on the part of the children in their research. The picture of Barbie evoked practically no positive sentiments – even amongst 7 year old girls.

In harsher words, this is Mattel’s pathetic, desperate attempt to be relevant today, because clearly funding grandiose films with hollow-plots isn’t working out. Sorry about the vent.

Well then, what instead?

Here’s my more actionable take on making storytelling toys for T1D folks. Mattle could do it, but even if they don’t — it would be amazing if the sincere well-wishers of the community came together to create better instruments for awareness.

Unlike the Barbie stunt which only caters to aesthetics of a person with a chronic condition/disability, instead of improving means of storytelling and role-play by

Realistic props and character-depth

• Snacks, with varied GI levels, because every 100mg/dL reading isn’t the same. Based on your past 24 hours and the resulting insulin senstivity — you could be experiencing a steady, crashing, or rising 100mg/dL

• Fanny pack to ensure we’re not forgetting the most important thing — the bag with supplies (which is why this fancy, tough to hold around purse just doesn’t resonate with me — crossover bag supremacy.

• Glucometer for calibration. Officially G6 sensor manufacturers, Medtronic, states ±20% deviation in CGM readings are considered acceptable), however, I have experienced deadly situations where the pump kept giving insulin for a false-high sugar reading and I had to run out to find snacks while feeling the drop in sugar increase.

• Also there’s absolutely no way I am wearing heels for longer than an hour — it’s not recommended for anyone, and personally I don’t want to burn carbs faster because I’m trying to live up to a toxic feminine image.

Productive game formats

A standalone Barbie, even with her props, does very little, maybe a short dopamine hit for sometime, but otherwise largely pointless. Also complement socialization and game-play for kids with other activities through these props:

• Encourage imaginative scenarios, like: “Your doll feels shaky—what do you do? How do you explain it to friends?”

• Create peer-group games where kids swap roles: T1D, friend, teacher, medical staff.

• Use guided prompts: emotion cards (“scared,” “curious,” “proud”) to label feelings during play.

So, what would I celebrate?

Not a doll that mimics the aesthetics of my condition, but the dismantling of systems that make survival feel like a luxury.

I’d celebrate:

• The day insulin is treated like oxygen — not a commodity.

• A public space where hypo care is as simple as getting water

• A classroom where a kid pulling out a juice box mid-lecture isn’t met with side-eyes, but solidarity.

Until then, I don’t need a Barbie.
I need equity. I need action.
And maybe, just maybe — a world that celebrates real victories — not empty trophies.

It’s not content itself that’s diabolical—it’s the standards for producing it that are. The benchmarks, the guardrails, the invisible algorithms that decide what gets made and what gets ignored—they’ve shifted into a territory that’s profit-maximizing, attention-extracting, and, frankly, soul-depleting. Content doesn’t have to mean anything anymore. It just has to perform.

What began as an exciting expansion of genres—say, chick flicks—has now curdled into the same mainstream sludge as 5-minute craft videos. Diversity is no longer a sincere effort at representation, but a strategic appeasement tactic to widen viewership metrics. Pseudo-reality TV shows thrive on voyeurism, keeping us hooked not on real stories but the illusion of witnessing something intimate. True crime series gorge on fear, only to lead us to an underwhelming truth—can you believe I binged The Watcher only to be told the mystery was never solved?

Fiction, too, has drifted farther from reality than it perhaps needed to—but strangely, this is where I’ve found the most satisfaction lately. Shows like The Sinner, Watchmen, and the enduring Lord of the Rings trilogy strike a rare balance: the storytelling and the action are equally in service to the integrity of the creators. There’s something crafted there—not just assembled for click-throughs.

As a UX researcher, I often distill complex insights with an intent of respecting the audience — whether it’s out of sincerity or fear of dismissal. The job is to inform without distortion, and treat their cognitive effort with gratitude and care. But in most content today, that same respect is missing. The consumer’s time and mental space is played like expendable resources, not something to be honoured.

Maybe we consent to it. Maybe we keep scrolling because we’re bored, or lonely. That’s human. But I do wonder—at what point do we stop being numb vegetables — and that’s not just a jab at content consumption — but about the ghastly realities of the wars, social injustices, poorly performing elected representatives, loops in the system.

In the days following the Pahalgam attack, a familiar script began to unfold: news tickers blared, hashtags surged, politicians postured, and reels flooded our feeds—some stirring, some downright surreal. But beneath the noise lies something far more unsettling: the rapid narrowing of what it means to care for your country.

• If you're not pro-war, are you anti-Army?

• If you question the government, are you anti-national?

• If you ask for peace, are you pro-Pakistan?

• And god forbid, if you advocate dissent—are you even Indian anymore?

We are rapidly becoming prototypes of a people that totalitarian monsters could only drool about in their dreams. All the dictators up to now have had to work hard at suppressing the truth. We, by our actions, are saying that this is no longer necessary, that we have acquired a spiritual mechanism that can denude truth of any significance.

In a very fundamental way we, as a free people, have freely decided that we want to live in some post-truth world. — Matthew D’ancona, Post-Truth Era (2017)

This reflects classic binary thinking or black-and-white cognition, a common cognitive distortion. When emotions run high—especially during conflict—people simplify complex realities into rigid categories. It’s a form of cognitive ease: easier to process, but also easier to manipulate. Recently, these labels have been casually hurled to either shame someone as “anti-national” or celebrate them as a “true patriot.” But are these neat boxes helping us think—or just making it easier to hate?

The Sandwich of Shame
I’ve noticed a pattern: many viral posts use a sandwich method—wrapping questionable logic between passive-aggressive nationalism.

This article isn't here to add to the shouting match. It’s here to hold space for clarity, calm, and complexity. Because in times of high emotion and media frenzy, how we think matters as much as what we think. This isn’t about taking sides—it’s about resisting the pressure to perform loyalty in reductive, binary terms.

BJP’s positioning since the Pahalgam attack is exemplar for a Post-Truth lens

Pahalgam attack seems to be fueling internal polarization, and the ruling political party (BJP) is leveraging it to glorify PM Modi. The Pahalgam attack and subsequent Hindu-Muslim communal tensions play directly into the BJP's history of fueling the need for Hindu nationhood, often through paranoid-style politics.

Now the war is being used to consolidate majoritarian support and silence dissent1, framing critics as “anti-national.”

We are victims of biased media that turns war into a spectacle

• Youth & Pop Culture Militarization: TikTok edits, Instagram reels, and meme culture are increasingly becoming vessels for jingoism—gamifying war. Read more about the role of surrogate advertising and its prevalence today in India wrt elections to dig deeper.

• Sensationalist reporting: News channels used sensationalist and cocaine-powered theatrics for showing retaliation strikes by the Indian Defense forces, glorifying the ruling party’s strength and dominance.

Obnoxious use of campaigning funds to feed us poorly-put information

I can confidently conclude that we, as consumers of information about political progress — are regularly disrespected with loud gimmicks and convoluted messaging.

• Especially considering that campaigning is more theatrics than actual consumable information that citizens can engage with and reflect on – a good product doesn’t ideally shouldn’t need to rely on loud advertising, right?

The Election Commission of India (ECI) has set a limit of Rs 95 lakh for individual candidates but I wonder how this a neutral and equal playing ground when one or two parties clearly dominate the attention economy. Advertisement shouldn’t be just about winning — but more importantly about holding accountability.

Madhya Pradesh minister and senior BJP leader Vijay Shah recently stirred controversy2 by framing Prime Minister Modi’s retaliation as poetic justice—claiming that “a woman from their [Muslim] community,” decorated Army officer Sofia Qureshi, was sent to “strip the terrorists and teach them a lesson.” A remark that not only communalizes the military’s action but also panders openly to anti-Muslim extremist sentiment.

It giving insecurity. Insecurity that voters will not see any real value or faith in the party’s ideology or path to it, so it only makes sense that they rely on theatrics and play at our emotions over intellect.

The New Normal: War updates as a handy diversion tactic

Since PM Modi has declared the “New Normal”, we need to accept that Operation Sindoor is the brand ambassador for a simplified nationalistic storytelling that makes it easier for citizens to consume and be convinced of BJP’s value proposition: India’s safety from it’s long-gone-rogue neighbor.

This is argument will be especially potent during election cycles or moments of internal dissatisfaction, when external conflict can serve to unify a fragmented public.

Can you be a nationalist and still a democrat? Yes.

India is positioning itself as defending “national integrity” and “counterterrorism.” Citing Pakistan’s history of harboring terror groups, including Jaish-e-Mohammed and Lashkar-e-Taiba, India’s actions are framed as pre-emptive or retaliatory strikes for national survival.

The threat from Pakistan-backed terrorist groups is real, and the responsibility of our armed forces and government to respond decisively cannot be denied.

“Going beyond representative democracy, however, does not mean giving it up. However imperfect and incomplete they may be, the rights fought for within the framework of the representative system for more than 200 years are a critical bulwark against forces that are eager to turn back the historical clock. It is therefore a matter of defending parliamentarism against authoritarian forces and the “corporate coup d’etat” while also building new grassroot structures to gradually overcome the limitations of representative democracy. This dual strategy is all the more important because democratization from below is still in its infancy and will take time.” — Fabian Schiedler, End of the Megamachine

But in moments of national crisis, how we, as citizens, choose to honor that responsibility matters just as much:

• Is it through displays of patriotism—reels, edits, and one-sides applauses?

• Or is it through the quieter, harder act of staying engaged with the many other battles unfolding in our circle of influence — our streets, courts, offices, and homes.

• Let’s not abandon our capacity to reflect, question, and care beyond headlines. Let’s not trade long-term vigilance for short-term dopamine. Because democracy isn’t just defended at the border—it’s defended in how we choose to live every day.

Faith in our defense forces doesn’t require us to suspend thought. It demands we stay awake—to both security threats and democratic backsliding.

REFERENCES

Inside India’s Political Ad Campaigns: Who Is Funding Them And How Much Is Being Spent? - The Outlook

BJP's advertisement plan may cost a whopping Rs 5,000 cr | Latest News India - Hindustan Times, 2014

Two weeks before Lok Sabha phase 3 voting, surrogates flooded Meta with communal political ads | Political Pulse News - The Indian Express

MCC: EC: Surrogate advertising tactics spill over into political campaigns - The Economic Times

War As Spectacle: How Indian Media Stages A Battle Before First Bullet

D'Ancona, M. Post-truth: The new war on truth and how to fight back. Random House. 2017

Scheidler, Fabian. The end of the megamachine: A brief history of a failing civilization. John Hunt Publishing, 2020.

The chakli is only an exemplar of my many observations about Aaji and her cooking over the years —

• I feel like Aaji has a playful determination to bring joy to others through her food. She’s rather nonchalant about receiving praises, but her radiance when someone appreciates her food is hard to miss. I remember regularly giving my friends shit for not verbally showing gratitude to her — the VERY least you can do when you hog hours of love and effort in under 15 minutes.

• I also feel like it has been a beautiful opportunity for me to show her love and gratitude. She’s rather shy as a person and hasn’t always been very touchy-feely, but when she blushes out of praise, I’m inclined to hug her harder.

• Such mastery of technique, but she does the bare minimum for her own meals. Soup, some lentils, and carbs on most days.

  

• Perfection isn’t her goal—it’s just a signal in a feedback loop. She treats each execution as an experiment, keeping mental notes, testing hypotheses — and leaving the rest to fate. Mindfulness while cooking can increase your chances of success, but you can never guarantee it. You might get a chakli or puranpoli right once, and still mess up the next time—and that’s okay, as long as you’re learning.

• She rarely, if ever, throws out a bad batch (of whatever she’s experimenting) — unless its truly a carcinogenic.

• With over 60 years of experience feeding anywhere from two to fifty people, she operates in the kitchen like she’s part of it. The chaos of her kitchen is understood by her alone.

• She uses her hands wherever possible. I saw her beating eggs with hands the other day — and I stand by it. There’s no microbial angle to doing this for eggs — but using hands gives physical feedback from the food, like resistance, and viscosity change. This imho subtly deepens connection with the process of cooking. Also makes it cooking raw and child-like, which I enjoy. Just wash your hands.

• There’s rhythm in her multitasking—even when she’s not looking, there’s a mental model guiding every ladle, every flip. I’d end up with a few burn injuries and spilled bowls if I were left alone — or proceed so cautiously that it’d take thrice as long for me to prepare the food.

• She always refers to cooking as a shastra—a science. Even though her methods seem instinctive and organic, they come from decades of mindful repetition. She taps into every corner of procedural and declarative memory: the exact pressure needed for kneading dough, the bitter aftertaste of your curry because you added too much jeera (that curry is etched in my memory and I had a pretty long-lasting jeera-aversion a that).

  

We often see meal preparation as a mundane necessity—just another task to get through. Accompanying Aaji in the kitchen reminds me cooking is a craft, and its damn delightful if you commit to it. It’s an act of care, of presence — and for me, its about learning from her and carrying the wisdom forward—adapting it, honoring it, and keeping it alive in my own way.

We started with some regular stretching exercises, followed by more stretching — and it is often these ones when I let my guard down and take the liberty to dissociate into depths of how nebulous my research inquiry can become if I include just one more variable. As a researcher I’m paid to stay curious and unfortunately that is a never-ending spiral (sincere apologies to all my friends and family who have heard me de-contextualized and anonymized rants about the challenges to conducting UX research for cloud infrastructure service management).

I’m following my teachers’ instructions on auto-pilot and I’m caught red handed as she corrects my posture. It was embarassing because (ironically) in principle, I prefer being present — but when its for my own benefit I often let it take the backseat.

Practicing Yoga, especially with my notorious teacher who keeps it spicy with unexpected (body) twists — forces me to tune into my body, breath — which inadvertently pauses time & silences all those apparently big questions with a mighty irreverence — and my minds’ egotistical obsession is ousted for its blatant vanity. Boo hoo — I guess I got to master Bakasana before I can convince myself that my contribution to work is even remotely as beneficial to self.

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