Thursday, 13 February 2014

Things you need to do!!
Like my Facebook page :)
Take part in my project :)
And spread the word to your friends :)
Inbox me your stories on Facebook or message me on:

As well as stories I’m looking for funny yet ridiculous things you have heard as a South Asian person from people of different ethnicities.

I’ve heard this a few times :

Person: Oh I love your tan.
Me: It’s not a tan, it’s my skin colour. =D

Let me know if you get people saying things like this to you!! :)

Tuesday, 11 February 2014

A little description on what I'm looking for and where this project is heading:

Short stories, anecdotes, phrases based on your experience as a South Asian female.
They can be as long and as short as you want but preferably not exceeding 750 words.

They can be happy or sad, funny or upsetting and anything in between.
They will remain anonymous, unless you want them not to be.
Names, locations etc can be changed - that is up to you.
You don’t have to worry about ho...w the story, anecdote etc is written; I will take care of that.
I’m hoping to receive all stories before March 13.
After March 13 I will begin to put the book together.
All my books will be published before May 9.
Once I have collected enough stories, I want to interview the women who have taken part (this is your choice) and dig a little deeper.
I will then contact newspapers and radios stations and hopefully create podcasts and columns for them to share with their followers.
An beautiful poem I received from Sarbjit Kaur as part of this project.
Must read!!

Sorry they would say. Sorry that you had a daughter. Sorry. I will pray for your next one to be a son. Son preference. When a boy was born, women seemed happier and would be greeted with approval and envy by other women. Young boys seemed to grow up with a little more confidence than girls. I often witnessed girl rejection at the Gurdwara, through conversations overheard and first hand experience. Something didn’t sit right with me about this. I couldn’t articulate it then, it was just a feeling I got based on what I saw, heard and embodied. I am daughter number three. Three times the burden, three times the dowry and three times the responsibility. My mum cried when I was born. I am not sure why. There is so much mystery surrounding that part of my childhood, between my birth, and living in India. I think her heart was torn between love and duty. There was an alternative male name in case I came out a ‘baby blue’. Blue, like Krishna, Shiva and Vishnu. It is not as black and white as that though. There are other shades, like my Auntie’s chunni. Or like the chimney soot sumera in our eyes. She cried when I was born. Had I been a boy, I wonder if my parents would have given me up. At least, I was allowed to be born. I am sure they were torn between love and duty. At least I was well taken care of. Unlike other girls I knew, even if they were only daughter number two. Between love and duty. There are other shades you know it’s not just kala and chitta. Like the mitta suntra, I am holding in my hand. I was told that photo was taken before I had to leave the land of my forefathers. The look in my eyes seems to foretell this parting. There is no smile in my Grandmother’s eyes. I am not sure she wants to let go of that footstool I am sitting on. Three is a lucky number right? My mum called me lucky once. She said that I was special as she bore two sons after me. I am not sure how that was a compliment, but I believe she meant well. But she cried when I was born. I wonder if she knew, I cried too.

Sunday, 9 February 2014

Follow me on Twitter and like my page on Facebook :)
But most importantly take part in my project!!
If you are a female of South Asian ethnicity then send me your stories, quotes and anecdotes relating to your race :)
Twitter: @OMTV1    
My book is an untitled book but if you have any queries please email me at Some other chapters coming soon :)
More from my book:

Chapter 8 



A thief entered a house. They tied everything up and were going to leave. A little boy woke up. He turned to the thieves and said if you don’t take my school bag I’ll scream and wake everyone up.

Oh, what I didn’t hear it.

A robber came into the kids’ house.

Oh, I get it now... I get it! The robber was stealing stuff, kid woke up and said take my school bag too or I’ll wake everyone up...I know!

Hina. A wife said to her husband: tomorrow is Christmas, last Christmas you got my Mum a metal chair. What are you going to do this year? The husband replied: this year I’m going to but an electric current through the chair.

Sooo something Dad would say.

Mum, Dad hasn’t called me back.

Who, who’s playing Hina?

Manchester..... Errrr.... a team in England and a team in Spain. Where our cousin lives, the one who got arrested.

Dads got Giff Gaff now and I told him its free Giff Gaff to Giff Gaff and he’s like well then I’m going to call you all the time now.