Maithily's Scribblings

Disclaimer: This blog is based on my personal experience only. No brand paid or asked me to write it. My Early Menstrual History I got my first period in 6th grade (age 12) in 2000. I then had very regular cycles (roughly 28–30 days) with about 3 days of moderate flow. From the start, my mom introduced me to a leading sanitary pad brand’s maxi pads, and I stuck with that brand exclusively for nearly 25 years. I tried all its versions (thin, thick, soft, clean, long “night” pads, etc.) and never had leaks or discomfort until after childbirth. During non-period days, I used panty liners (mostly Bella, and sometimes Sirona, Femisafe, PeeSafe aloe vera, Evereve, Plush, etc.) with no irritation.  I always wore comfortable hipster-style cotton underwear (Jockey hipsters: size L/XL before marriage, XXL after), which kept pads in place. In short, for decades, periods meant that one brand’s pads and I got along perfectly – awful cramps and backache, yes, but no pad problems. Postpartum B...

Pongal has always been my favourite festival, not just for its traditions but for the emotions it carries. This year, I am far away from my family, and I find myself missing my father-in-law deeply. He kept telling me that he would come home to Vadodara for Pongal 2026, and that thought stayed with me throughout the festival. I truly miss him. Pongal is a sweet festival in every sense, and I have always loved enjoying the sweet Pongal my dad prepares. As far back as I can remember, it has always been my dad who cooks both sweet Pongal and ven Pongal on Pongal morning. He does it before sunrise, on a makeshift firewood stove, with so much care and love. My dad’s recipe is the tastiest Pongal I have ever had. It is one recipe I learned wholeheartedly, and it has never failed me. I used to eagerly wait for Pongal just to eat that delicious sweet Pongal my dad taught me to make. This year, there were no big celebrations. Still, I prepared my favourite Pongal at home, and it turned out wond...

I’ve been living in Gujarat for about seven months now. New city, new rhythm, new everything. The only thing that hasn’t quite caught up with the change is my Hindi . I know a few words. Very, very few. Enough to survive. Not enough to understand panic. The Evening at the Play Area One evening, I took my daughter down to the play area in our apartment. The usual scene—kids running around, laughter echoing, parents standing in small groups, half-watching, half-unwinding. I was standing right in the middle of the play area, keeping an eye on my daughter, when one little boy suddenly started running towards me. As he ran, he kept shouting: Aunty,  “ maar raha hai!” He ran past me. Came back again. And again. Every single time, the same line: Aunty,  “ maar raha hai!” Me vs My Very Limited Hindi Now, with my limited Hindi knowledge, my brain immediately translated this into something like:   Aunty, move… you’re blocking us… So I did what any polite, slightly confused adu...

The trip we took on the 1st of January 2026 gave me something far more meaningful than just memories. It gave me strength, calm, and a deep sense of happiness that lingered long after we returned home. Visiting the Statue of Unity had been on my bucket list ever since we moved to Vadodara, and welcoming the new year with this journey felt just right. We started early, leaving home at 7:30 AM in our personal vehicle, and reached the Statue of Unity by around 9:30 AM. The weather was exceptionally kind to us. It was winter, crisp and gentle, making the entire drive feel comforting and inviting. The roads from Vadodara were perfect for a long drive. Smooth, scenic, and peaceful, they made the journey as enjoyable as the destination itself. The cotton plantations lining the route were a pleasant surprise, something we had never seen back in Tamil Nadu. They added a quiet charm to the landscape and stayed with us long after we crossed them. We kept things simple for breakfast, carrying brea...