A vigil for Savita: why so much hatred for women?

This week, the news broke about Savita Halappanavar, a 31 year old dentist of Indian origin living in Ireland, who had last month presented herself to a hospital in Galway, Republic of Ireland, in terrible pain. It was found that she was miscarrying her first, unborn child 17 weeks into her pregnancy but medical staff treating Savita refused her pleading to terminate the already unviable foetus as its heartbeat was still detectable. Savita was left in agony, with no hope of giving birth to a live baby for days before the foetal heartbeat could no longer be found. Savita then developed septicaemia … Continue reading A vigil for Savita: why so much hatred for women?

Sometimes, a bit of a fuss is a good thing.

            Today, as every Sunday, I did the ironing in my pyjamas whilst listening to the Archers Omnibus. I only remembered afterwards that today is the sixth anniversary of the day my dad died. My husband was working in Paris at the time, and the children and I were celebrating the final afternoon of the summer holidays with a trip to Parc Asterix when I managed to pick up a voicemail from my cousin’s wife, telling me that I’d better come home that evening. Well, my dad was unconscious in hospital when I arrived in … Continue reading Sometimes, a bit of a fuss is a good thing.

On how the Lennox case affects us all

I have been exercised in recent days about the case of poor Lennox. To my sadness and shame, I had done very little to add my support to this appalling case in the two years before Lennox’s destruction on Wednesday, despite being made constantly aware of it through the efforts of Dogs Today’s Beverley Cuddy and It’s Me or the Dog’s Victoria Stilwell amongst others. I suppose I thought that sense and logic would prevail through a competent justice system and that poor Lennox would eventually be reunited with the Barnes family. For those of you who haven’t been following … Continue reading On how the Lennox case affects us all

For my dad

My dad, Keshav, had he lived, would have been 80 years old today. Born into a Brahmin family in rural Vita, India, he left his university course in 1952 to join my uncle who was seconded to the UK with the Indian Navy. In those days, the UK was the mother country of the Empire and the streets were supposedly paved with gold. Large scale recruitment took place from the Indian Sub-Continent and the Caribbean for people – then still British subjects – to work in the newly-formed NHS and on public transport. It was natural that, given such a golden … Continue reading For my dad

So, farewell then, Pete

We might fight it with eye cream and Botox and fast cars, but Age creeps up on us inexorably. We might not feel older than about 25, but the shadows are there under our eyes, the concealer settles into our laughter lines, hand responsibilities at work and with our families mean that there is a limit to the pretence we once shared that the whole world belongs to us. Now in our mid forties, several among our friends have lost parents. Even if that is sudden, to an extent that is expected. Older people have had their lives and made their … Continue reading So, farewell then, Pete