Tag:detectives

Let me tell you something uncomfortable: when judges start sounding more progressive than politicians, you know society is having an identity crisis. For years now, India’s Supreme Court has been dragged—sometimes reluctantly, sometimes heroically—into the battlefield of gender, sexuality and sex crimes. And while aunties at family dinners still whisper about “culture” and “tradition,” the bench has been whispering back something far more dangerous: dignity. When the Court decriminalised same-sex love, it wasn’t just striking down a dusty colonial relic. It was saying that intimacy is not a crime scene....

Ah, gōkon (合コン). Japan’s beautifully choreographed group blind date. Three men, three women, two hours, unlimited drinks, minimal emotional risk. If Tinder is a meat market, gōkon is a tasting menu — curated, moderated, socially supervised. And honestly? I kind of respect the efficiency. When a society invents a way to date that involves six people, shared fried chicken, and carefully calibrated politeness, you know romance is not just personal — it’s political. In a country where open confrontation is frowned upon and emotional exposure is rationed like wartime sugar,...

There is something deliciously ironic about a middle-aged private detective hiding behind a concrete wall in Bengaluru, peeping at two young people stealing a kiss outside a posh café. The city calls itself India’s Silicon Valley, the land of start-ups, unicorns, co-working dreams and oat-milk cappuccinos. Yet here we are: love under surveillance. Let’s be honest. In urban India, romance has always been both everywhere and nowhere. Dating apps glow on our phones. Valentine’s Day sales explode in malls. Influencers post pre-wedding shoots with drone cameras and coordinated outfits. But...

Oh, my dear global beach goddesses, we need to talk. Not because I am the High Priestess of Hemlines. Not because I believe women’s bodies are shameful. And certainly not because I think modesty equals morality. I have spent half my life arguing the opposite. But when you walk into a temple fair in Phuket in a bikini and act surprised that people are upset? That’s not liberation. That’s laziness. Here is the thing: sacred space in Asia is not a museum. It is not a Pinterest backdrop. It is...

Let me say this gently, my darlings: if your Ramadan outfit costs more than your mother’s monthly grocery bill, we need to have tea. Every year, like clockwork, Ramadan arrives with its holy hush—and then, boom, the fashion drops. “Exclusive capsules.” “Limited Eid edits.” Silk abayas that whisper taqwa but scream platinum credit card. Suddenly, modesty has a price tag and it’s not modest at all. Now listen, Spicy Auntie is not anti-style. Allah gave you taste buds and color vision for a reason. A beautiful baju kurung, a perfectly...