Tuesday, 22 December 2015

December 16th, 2012

The following poem I have created is inspired by the pain and humiliation I feel upon the release of the accused juvenile in Nirbhaya Rape Case. He walked free just two days ago and with his every free step, our hopes and trust for the justice is being crushed beneath it. The poem is a way to show the downfall of humanity happened on a particular date.

December 16th, 2012
Does the date shake you well??
It was the day when she was assaulted
It was the day when we all went dead
By humanity, humility and morality
Where six stood hovering
and one laid pleading.

Talk about the brutality of the act
It can make you an instant deaf;
She fought, she tried and begged teary eyed
But no eyes were there to entertain
and no ears to tend to her pain;
If anything at all was there 
It was humanity at monstrous break
that put her life easily at stake.

Now that he walked away free
Smiling, laughing too may be;
You'd think he was the one behind the bars
But as it turns out, only if you think
It was not him who outlived the punishment
But us who were at pyre
to face the consequence so dire!
Now our dreams lay burnt
and hopes for justice lay bare
He has chewed on our bones 
And now we stand with no backbone.

Monday, 21 December 2015

New Year, Christmas and You!

With Christmas and New Year soon to stop by
Have you made any plans to party?
Friends, family or if it's just the boring you
Enjoy it till you fall to a snooze;

He does this, she does that
Why the hell would you abide by that?
It's your day, your crate
Do shake it your way;

Listen songs, have a silly dance
Get a hug or better, a long kiss;
If you smiling at this
You are sure to get one of these;

Thursday, 17 December 2015

Be humble.

Well, this I found over internet which expertly tells you to stay grounded no matter what.

“At the peak of my career, I was once travelling by plane. The passenger next to me was elderly. Dressed in a simple shirt and pant, he appeared middle class but well educated. Other passengers kept glancing at me. But this gentleman appeared unconcerned. He read his newspaper, looked out of the window, and when tea came, he sipped it quietly. Trying to strike a conversation, I smiled. The man courteously smiled back and said hello. We got talking and I brought the subject to cinema and asked, “Do you watch films?” The man replied, “Oh, very few. I did see one many years ago.” I mentioned that I worked in films myself. The man said, “Oh, that’s nice. What do you do?” I replied, “I am an actor.” The man nodded, “Oh, wonderful.” That was it. When we landed, I held out my hand and said, “It was good to travel with you. By the way, my name is Dilip Kumar.” The man shook my hand and smiled, “Thank you. I am J. R. D. Tata.” I learned, no matter how big you are, there is always someone bigger. Be humble. It costs nothing.”
– Dilip Kumar

Friday, 11 December 2015

I wish I were a man!

This morning I was having morning tea with my maid. She is lighthearted and a good-natured person. Hard working too! Probably more than you and I are. She is talkative no less than I am. So while talking through myriad of things, we finally struck our chatting chords on the humming strums of husbands, in-laws, disregard the society adorns the women with, responsibilities on her, compromises we women have to make in order to supply our homes with peace and silence along with groceries and indecent demands of others and the list goes on. I really can't list all of'em here.

My maid, let's call her G, told me about her husband's drinking habit and retching through out the house the previous night and her pregnant younger sister and her husband's reckless habits too. It was saddening to hear all of it and all over again. I empathized her visually as well as mentally. After a while while cleaning the kitchen top, she said poignantly but with a glinting hope sparkling into her eyes.

"Madam! Wouldn't it be nice if I were a man? Look at them. They can roam everywhere, get tended to with utmost respect and care despite of their penniless job, and even if they don't give a hand in sharing chores, they are adored all the time. I wish I were a man!"

I smiled at her thinking inwardly of one of my wishes flagging out of her mouth. At one or other moment, every woman must have wished the same. I said.

"G! I agree that we women have to face a little difficulty and are more prone to encounter compromises but if you think carefully, you and I are lucky to be a woman."

G was intrigued, this time cleaning the gas stove. She paused and smiled a question at me.

"Do you really want to be a man who drinks all the time, retches all over the house, shakes himself off the significant liabilities and still moves around with a pride? Do you really want to be your husband? Insensitive and ignorant?"

Wednesday, 2 December 2015

In the flow of fate.

She, Mariam, was encircled with her father, his three wives and some of their children. They sat and bore their eyes on her face while she looked upon the flowering apple tree behind her father's back, out of the window. She somehow sensed the inevitable but unpleasant was about to embark on her yet she sat with silence and patience. When one of the ladies spoke of her getting handed over to a really old man for marriage, her stomach twisted. She was just fifteen year old girl. Fifteen! And here the family, practically could be called hers but she was forbidden to do so, kept assuring her of a new golden life with that old shoemaker man. Mariam's only rescue was her father sitting across her. When she looked at him, he looked away and when she demanded him to consider such crazy idea, he admonished her and resigned to her fate. This, by all means, meant she would get married to that old man and be sent some six hundred and fifty kilometers away from where she currently sat on a big dark brown dining table with the family of her father's but not hers.

Above is paraphrased from the book I am currently reading. The way Mariam's emotions have been sewn together is very fascinating. I could feel her feelings, the twist in her stomach and those brooding healthy red apples laden on the tree. When the author mentioned apples, I involuntarily looked over to the crystal vase placed on my dining table filled with some apples and oranges. When Mariam felt the discomfort on listening to the marriage proposal, I realized how easy it is for me or anyone else to simultaneously eat a cheese sandwich and few twigs of masala twist dipped into tea which was carefully prepared with freshly ground cloves, cardamom and black pepper while somewhere in a virtual world a girl was being thrown to hell by marrying a man triple of her current age. Only the big dark brown table and the reader can be the unwanted witnesses of such morbid conversation.

A story cannot be called just a story when a reader could see its pieces happening right in front of the eyes. I can feel Mariam sitting next to me and blazing Jalil with her fire caught eyes for not speaking on her defense. I am yet to read onward but till then, Mariam is seated on the chair and praying for him to speak on her behalf, as her father.

Tuesday, 1 December 2015

Find respect in your heart.

Since last few days, the media is ablazed with the news of a Muslim family for not standing up in the theater when national anthem was being played on the screen. As a punishment, the family was argued with till the point they were detained out of the hall.

I find it hard to understand the matter on focus here. The family was detained because they belong to a different religion or they showed (according to other audiences) disregard to the anthem? I guess a bit of both however I am nudged to write my views here. In a single clean shot, I believe what that muslim family did was right and what others did was utterly wrong. Why? Because...

  • National anthem does not ask for any sort of obligation. Whether you are seated or standing straight up, it will be respected if your heart respects it.
  • It's a matter of choice. Just standing and bowing at the last line does not show that you are a true patriot. 
I remember our honorable prime minister giving speech to Indians residing in USA on one of his recent political visits. At the start and as a part of ritual, the national anthem of America was played and while the citizens of USA put their right hand on their heart, our minister did not follow the same. Should he be detained right then and there? Now can you see the insanity of the pivotal point of the issue? To make my point more valid, the High Court recently declared there is no need to stand during national anthem when being played.

Thursday, 19 November 2015

The brooding night.

As the night approaches,
I recoil into myself
Starin' hard through the darkness
Got a glimmer of s'thing priceless.

After so many days, sun erupted 
Out the womb of dark hazy clouds
The world looked celebratory
While I sat at the edge of my balcony
Soaking some warmth in its glory;

Day can be different
May be sunny, dull or bright
But the night stays the same
Brooding, frowning, contemplating
And stubborn with its determination. 

Let the world sleep and the storm in me too!
Let the world dream and a li'l piece of me too!
Sun will rise again, with a deafening strike
But it's not the iridescent day m scared of!
It's also not the night that catches me off guard!
But it's the thin space in between
Which is invisible and most unwanted
That's the time I'd never want to be planted.

Wednesday, 28 October 2015

Kanyakumari - A trip to remember Part 2

The howling chilly weather has prompted me to relive our recent Kanyakumari trip again. Read its first part to enjoy better : Kanyakumari - A trip to remember Part 1

So in the evening, we covered Swami Vivekananda Kendra and Our Lady of Ransom Church. But first about the Kendra. It was twilight and a bit drizzling when we entered into it and went straight to the exhibition where the whole life of Mr. Eknath Ranade (please click the link and read about him. He is a very inspirational person) is put on show. Even his own bed is also there. It was a surprise and good to see how Kendra has managed to preserve it till today (thankfully woods do not rot over time and sheets can be washed over and over again). Mr. Ranade was the ardent follower of Swami Vivekananda's principles and ethics. It is because of his next-to-impossible efforts that the Swami Vivekananda Kendra and Vivekananda Rock Memorial came into existence. The whole premise of the Kendra is quiet. The serenity it has to offer is like a magnet which only pulls you to nestle for longer. We browsed its mess too. The Kendra also runs school from Nursery to (I guess) 12th standard and kids live inside Kenra only.

During the exhibition

Let me hold his finger to guide myself through
the crests and troughs of life. A 3D photo of
Eknathji Ranade

Pointing at Kanyakumari. One slip and we might
fall out of India's map ;)

शून्य और ओस.

दूर बहुत दूर कहीं चले जाना है 
जहाँ न हो आसमां का साथ 
और न हो सके धरती से बात 
बस मैं रहूँ और रहे एक अनंत शून्य 
जहाँ शब्द ही न रहें गुनगुनाने को 
हो तो बस एक चपल मौन आज़माने को। 

सोचूँ यही तो मुस्कराहट सी आ जाती है 
आसमां तैर रहा ऊपर और धरती फिसल रही नीचे 
फिर भी उनके अस्तित्व को नकारते हुए बंद आँखों से 
ख्वाब देखती हूँ कुछ अजीब अनसुने 
अजीब ही सही पर हैं तो मेरे अपने 
बस जी सकूँ उसी शून्य में खुद को समेटे। 

कहते हैं - जीना यहाँ और मरना भी यहीं; 
चाहत है तो बस ढूंढ पाऊँ उस ओस को 
जिसकी निर्मल चमक से आँखें खुल जाएं 
जिसके तरल स्वाद से मन शांत हो जाए 
जिस शून्य की तलाश आज भी यूँ जारी है 
काश मिल जाए इन्ही चाँद लाइनो के बहाने से। 

Tuesday, 27 October 2015

Kanyakumari - A trip to remember Part 1

October 22nd. Time: 5 AM

We left for Kanyakumari. It was a journey of almost 13 hours (as we had anticipated) but we were anyway jam packed with enthusiasm, excitement and a hope for having a great time. As it was early morning, we thought the roads would be deserted enough to help us save some travel time but no! Bangalore is hardly asleep even at 5 AM! Got stuck at traffic jam on some road and one hour was wasted there. Finally it took us two hours to get out of the belly of the city. The morning was very beautiful but behaving as a stupid person, I spent most of it in sleeping (in my defense, I was awake since 3.45 AM while had slept at 1 AM the previous night). So could not seep inside the serenity and shine of the sun much but when I was awake , I surely clicked some pictures. Some of them :-

Sun rays...always a good thing

A marvelous piece

I had to add my importance with a selfie :P

Tuesday, 20 October 2015

Silent accomplice.

So today I received a package from Flipkart with three brand new books in it (I have ordered around 10 books from the site during the recent Big Billion Day and I am thankful to Flipkart for selling them at awesome rates). Needless to say, nothing could entice me more than getting hands on new reads. I picked one and am about to start it right after this post.

I vividly remember my first novel. It was of Shivani's Mayapuri. It is a Hindi novel and Shivani is known as one of the renowned authors in Hindi literature. Sadly she is demised now but I loved Mayapuri! More than that, I was envy of the female protagonist, Shobha. Shivani has sculpted her so beautifully that I didn't want to see mirror for sometime. I was very little that time but I can still feel how much I had wished I could be Her! It is nothing but a success to the author. While reading, I had felt the deep connection between Satish and Shobha and was joyous and sad going through the journey of their lives. Then I read, as far as I can pin point precisely, Five point someone by Chetan Bhagat as my first English novel. I liked it. It was almost 8-9 years ago but I had enjoyed the narration.


Time has changed and now I have moved on from having a handful of books to a big library. I take pride even just by looking at it. The collection has yet to grow bigger but it gives me a satisfying stare. It is wonderful to have a silent companion; who can be with you wherever you go or whatever you do. Books are one such accomplice to me. I enjoy their company. The world is anyway there to work according to its own ways which may be very disappointing sometimes. Having a silent ally is as wonderful as licking an ice-cream or playing your favorite instrument. No words is exchanged yet everything gets said just the way it was supposed to.

Monday, 19 October 2015

Pyre of Memories.

One moment you are happy at facebook
or gleefully watchin' Quantico;
The next thing you know 
you are lost somewhere far away,
somewhere in a naught
where you find a burial
of dreams, hopes 
or even trust!
how funny it does sound?!
what you considered a bond once
turns out was a cheer at the funeral.

Sunday, 18 October 2015

Please carry bags from home for grocery shopping.

Yesterday we were at a grocery store for weekly shopping. When we get billed, we realized we had forgotten to bring our jute bags from home. We have a habit of getting bags with us to any such shopping to avoid consumption of extra plastic bags. But standing at the till, we came up with a solution. We took frozen items in a small plastic bag to carry along while requesting the food store to deliver the rest (which they always do in cardboard boxes). I was relaxed to save three-four plastic bags. While the salesperson was filling up the boxes with our stuff, a written plea on a wall pulled my attention. It said -

Bangalore is trying to get free of plastic bags. We also encourage you to bring your own bags from home. If failed in doing so, we will anyway assist you by providing plastic bags at a nominal cost.

This was the essence of the whole message. I wondered at the contradiction here. Usually small plastic bags come at Rs. 3/- and bigger ones at Rs. 4/-. If food stores are really this much willing to get the city rid off plastic bags, why would they be providing the same at nominal costs which customers can always afford very easily? Consumers will hardly be thoughtful about procuring bags from home and won;t hesitate in buying new ones from the store.

Reusable bags such as jute and paper
ones are a good option.

Thursday, 15 October 2015

Digital Amnesia.

A few months ago when I was gone to a movie-plex, I dropped my mobile by mistake. When I turned it, the screen endured a horrible web of crack. I was horrified because the device was new then and seeing the cracked screen anyway brings panic. I went on checking its touch sensitivity and other applications and much to my happiness, almost everything worked just fine. Movie was superb by the way.

Reading an article in the newspaper half an hour ago reminded me of this incident. It is about Digital Amnesia causing the panic, loss of memory and a long bout of stress, if you have lost or cracked up your device (say mobile) leading to its non-functionality. I too was panic stricken that time. Later on I got my mobile repaired but the stress it had caused me still tickles me somewhere. I suppose I too underwent this adequately coined phase called Digital Amnesia for a brief moment.

Technology erases memories.

Friday, 9 October 2015

It's Never Too Late on Kindle

So the Kindle version of my book, It's Never Too Late, is just out. Have a look and read it on your Kindle (I wish I had my own to get the feel but it's all okay) and share with your family, friends and acquaintances as much as possible.

It's Never Too Late Kindle

I am glad about it. Finally the book is reaching out to more and more people. A big chunk of gratitude to my publishers, friends and family. Hope the book keeps doing well in coming years as well.

Tuesday, 29 September 2015

But only if we learn to Shuffle.

The same old playlist
I have been listening to
The same old songs
I have been enjoying, true!
Got bored, got irritated
Thought to switch
'N make a new list;
But I stopped at Shuffle
A feature I never used
but time to get it screwed;
I put it on
With the same old list
With the same old songs
And believe me, my dear!
It worked wonder!
With the unexpected
I enjoyed better ;
Came to think 
Life is also an old playlist
With the same old routine
With the same old twists
No turns are new
nor any dish special to chew!
But only if we Shuffle it
and then press Play in it
and then pause for a moment,
we might get the same routine
but with unexpected beauty!
Days will be brighter
and nights will be shinier
But only if we learn to Shuffle
and then play the playlist;
Stop fretting over!
Pause peering over!
Just stay back and relax
Chill and have a crack
Of life or a joke may be,
but just stay back!
Get that hammock
If you need it to be;
Tryin' to outrun life
I don't say is very wise;
It's better to lose
and call up a snooze;
Wake up with unusual mornings
Sleep with romantic nights,
With stars to gaze and
sun rays to bathe;
Make the new with the same old brew;
Just stop playing the same old fashioned way
and let life shuffle it for you in a better way
Do it! and then tell me
Whether you felt the new tickle comin' you the old way.  

Monday, 28 September 2015

Respect others' time.

In my view, time is not money. It possesses a greater worth instead. When utilized with skill and efficiency, a lot positive can be done just in an hour but if not treated well, hours can drain in futility. That is why probably, everyone says, respect your time.

And I might dare to add - As well as others'! Time does not run differently for different people. It runs on the same wheels for every one of us. It is the track that we create for it and then it runs its course differently. For me, time is timeless, nothing can match its power, capability and healing essence. So I dutifully respect my time but when others do not, it hurts. If you have made a promise for a meeting, movie, studies, shopping, workshops, classes etc. to someone else, please appear on time. People do not have extra minutes to spare just because you are low in communications or helplessly ignorant. Emergencies can also be shared if not right away but surely after a short while. But make it a point to not to break your promise. It is very important.

Mind it!

Thursday, 24 September 2015

Tremors stronger than any earthquake.

A few days ago when I was working on my story in my writer's nest, I heard a child's cry. It was sudden and a very unusual cry. I stopped typing for a second thinking it might belong to my wing but when the heart-wrenching sound continued, I had to stop writing completely. By now I was sure the cry did not belong to my community. It looked as if someone was beating a boy kid mercilessly and he had got nothing but to cry and bawl in return. It was coming from some house very nearby. I saved my document and ventured to the balcony to see where the commotion was coming from. I observed it came from a house almost adjacent to our society boundary. I sighed because the child's cry was too much to bear. Usually nothing can make me move when I am at work, absolutely nothing (except a natural disaster) but that gut wrenching sound bore stronger tremors than any earthquake.

I wrapped a shawl around me and went downstairs. I moved along the house to confirm again. I heard the same sound. I called for my society security and told him to knock at the house window and get the lady stop. He hesitated. I understood. It was not our matter at all! But I stood stubborn, refusing to back down. The kid's cry was twisting my heart with enormous pain and I was writhing with it. I had to stop it. A few more people gathered around but no one dared to knock at the window. Fortunately, one lady came in the front balcony and right in front of us. The distance between us was pretty less and we could easily talk. I started.

"Hi! First of all, I am very sorry because this is not my matter but I have been hearing a kid's cry from your house since a long time. Seems someone is beating him severely. Can you please make it stop?"

The lady stood in mild amusement. She certainly had not expected anyone to react on her house matter like this at all. But she was adamant, said,

Saturday, 19 September 2015

I want you to know by Selena Gomez.

Sharing a song that I enjoy very much. Be its Selena's sensuous voice, music, lyrics or the feelings encapsulated underneath them, all of it is capable enough to bring a dull moment alive. Listen and enjoy! 

Friday, 18 September 2015

In the oyster of night.

In the oyster of night
lay pearls of hopes and dreams;
they twinkle they shine they look divine
and I gaze at them with open eyes;
Yet it's not the shine that catches my eyes
it's also not the shell that lures my attention
it's rather the darkness of night
the kohl of skies
that gets me stumbled and stupefied;
How wonderful it'd be to get lost
in the arms of such night?
What fun it'd be to wander
from one to another star-light?
I wonder as I surrender;
So what are you waiting for?
come let's go!
let's weave a magic show
let's dive into its intensity
and prosper under its beating glow.

                                                                                - Priyanka Baranwal

Tuesday, 15 September 2015

My Book Day.

Today was considerably a different day for me. No. I did not turn into a super model this morning. Still a simple girl with big dreams. I had been reading a novel since last few days. This morning, it came to an end. The way it breathed its last was a bit unexpected but enjoyable. A smile wretched onto my face after reading it. Any book lover knows that books tend to fly you high with different imaginations and beautiful intriguing characters. The same happened with me. I was reading Tonight and Always by Nora Roberts. Story is not much of an extra-ordinary read (a simple movie like plot) but the way Roberts had ended felt good.

Somehow after finishing it, I was pleased and decided to spend whole day doing nothing but just reading. I even created a writer's spot at my home to please my reader self. Have a look. Then I spent the rest of the day reading different novels. It felt so good that I called the day My Book Day; a day when I can do nothing except reading my favorite authors. And it felt sumptuously great!

Monday, 14 September 2015

Forgive when you are ready. If not then don't.

I just logged into my email account and found a mail from a motivational website covering this - Why to forgive people you hate the most. You can click to squeeze some sanity, only if you prefer.

Admit it! We all have either one or a bunch of people whom we truly hate from the bottom core of our hearts. And it doesn't come any easy to just forgive and move past them. Reminding myself to act sane and being human, I clicked on the link just to see whether the reasons covered on the website could purely justify my own. Some of them did for sure. For example - forgive for peace of mind, better health, because you are better and all that similar stuff. I agree! Forgiving someone of their misdeeds does bring a hell lot of peace to the mind, relives stress and thus, resulting into a good health.

But again, it is easier said than done. Some bruises stay exposed and keep scathing themselves as time ticks by. It does not matter how much time has lapsed since they have come into existence. Those bruises just refuse to die. They stomp deeper denying to diminish their morbid presence despite of the bright sunlight of happy times. Every time you remember them, you will find them breathing as subtly as they had just occurred a minute ago. Their sunny side will always be up to tease you with their never-ending prickly shine. Some bruises, some bitter memories or a cruel part of destiny simply cannot be removed just for the sake of achieving a good health or in order to become a better person. One can easily refuse to be a better person on such fronts. Because the hurt, the pain those bruises have been causing can be very unsettling at times. You may curse the person, or the destiny or sometimes yourself (even if you were merely a victim), for being a part of all of it. But no matter what you do, some portions of memory walls can never be buried behind the thickest of bricks and with most promising cement.

To be able to forgive, however, I know is rising above the average. Some people are just not ready to rise up to a higher level. May be the hurt people have caused them are heavier than the light synergy of soul-uplifting.

Sunday, 13 September 2015

Dear mom and dad.

Mom and Dad, you both are the reason I'm so strong,
With you two steering the way, nothing could go wrong.
Thank you both for always being there,
And showing me that you care.
Words can never explain how I feel about you,
But I hope you know that I truly miss you two!


I am a little low key on health note right now. This noon after lunch and embedded with seclusion, I rocked myself on the swing thinking about old childhood days when my father used to surprise me with different games and dolls during the bouts of my sicknesses. I loved him! for being so thoughtful. Mummy, as usual, cooked food suited best to my ill status to which I always grunted. Grandmother was doubly nice. I used to snuggle next to her and she always talked ever so softly with me. I was her favorite grand child (let me boast a little. It feels good). Today I miss them so very much. I just can't say it at times.

I think 'bout those days. Where they have gone? And why? Even if I can get them back right now, I would hesitate to live them. Because I am a grown up now. Won't be able to relish as I am supposed to. Therefore, I'd rather prefer to be a child again so that I could enjoy things I have missed. A little girl layered with love, affection, hugs, kisses and some warmth and protection. A few gifts would be like cherries on the cake just to quicken the process of recuperation. 

Friday, 11 September 2015

You can not own the world.

Apart from my swing and the balcony in my house, I love the terrace of my building. It is conjoined with the rest three blocks and makes up for a big uninterrupted space. I love it! Where the rest of the world go downstairs and chat, I prefer to run to my self-declared castle of freedom and do things that I intricately like, like drinking my tea, listening to music and reading my books. The absolute silence and hovering beautiful sky make up for two perfect companions. Yeah! I am a person totally unfit to this world :)

But this evening, my castle was raided and I sat helpless while reading my novel. There were a few people standing at a good distance from me. They appeared to be involved in what seemed like a fun conversation but with every raised pitch, I grimaced nonetheless I was down looking at my novel. With their fun unclear chattering, it was a little difficult to rather concentrate on reading but I kept my head digging deep between the pages though. Sometimes you feel you do own a place when no one crosses it for a long time. You feel it belongs to you as much as you belong to it but the moment someone does it, you feel like it is a cheating. A total unfair thing! I may call it those few people trespassed in my territory and much to my displeasure, I couldn't sue them but sit on a small stone trying harder to read the interesting lives of Jordan and Kasey. It was a very unsettling feeling that now people know about my secret castle of freedom and they may dare to pop there anytime they like.

Someone has said it rightly. You can not own the world. In my case, I can not own the terrace but I wish I could.

Thursday, 10 September 2015

Why should boys have all the...burden?!

As I sip my green tea, here is the post which was supposed to be written last month (August) but as time gets ticked, I tend to get lazier and lazier. Thinking it's never too late, let me pen the thought here finally.

Well, in August fell Rakshabandhan (an Indian occasion where sisters tie rakhi on their brothers' wrists. This is done in an attempt to receive protection and forever love from brothers but these days, expensive gifts come along too. BTW, I too received such a gift and that is why, I love my little brother more now *wink*). Me and my best friend were discussing this ritual. She has two little daughters and a very cute ones on that note. I asked her whether her daughters miss for not having a brother. Her reply amused me and altered my perspective regarding the occasion altogether.

"I don't believe in a shit that for protection and love, a brother is required. A sister can provide it too. I make both of my daughters tie rakhi on each other's wrists and get them understand its value and meanings. Whatever happens, they will love and protect each other always. And for this, they really don't need a brother."

I smiled broadly. She instantly changed my view. It is so true. Isn't it? Why boys should have all the....burden of protection and promises? Why male members of the family are bound to protect their siblings? A sister can do this too! Because a girl is as strong as a boy. Thus, hats off! My dear friend. You perfectly played the role of a great teacher.

Sunday, 6 September 2015

The unnamed story.

This story I read somewhere and think it's worth sharing.

"My husband is an Engineer by profession, I love him for his steady nature, and I love the warm feeling when I lean against his broad shoulders.

Three years of courtship and now, two years into marriage, I would have to admit, that I am getting tired of it. The reasons of me loving him before, has now transformed into the cause of all my restlessness.

I am a sentimental woman and extremely sensitive when it comes to a relationship and my feelings, I yearn for the romantic moments, like a little girl yearning for candy. My husband, is my complete opposite, his lack of sensitivity, and the inability of bringing romantic moments into our marriage has disheartened me about love.
One day, I finally decided to tell him my decision, that I wanted a divorce.

“Why?” he asked, shocked. “I am tired, there are no reasons for everything in the world!” I answered. He kept silent the whole night, seems to be in deep thought with a lighted cigarette at all times. My feeling of disappointment only increased, here was a man who can’t even express his predicament, what else can I hope from him? And finally he asked me:” What can I do to change your mind?”
Somebody said it right, it’s hard to change a person’s personality, and I guess, I have started losing faith in him. Looking deep into his eyes I slowly answered : “Here is the question, if you can answer and convince my heart, I will change my mind, Let’s say, I want a flower located on the face of a mountain cliff, and we both are sure that picking the flower will cause your death, will you do it for me?” He said :” I will give you your answer tomorrow….” My hopes just sank by listening to his response.

Thursday, 27 August 2015

A flight of memory.

Writing a book can be so overwhelming sometimes. It can get you on an edge. Literally! On some days, it works. Like I keep writing and writing until my fingers start to hurt like anything but on the other some days, nothing just works out. You are not blacked out and all that but you just can't be in the writing cocoon of yours. These latter days, it hurts. Also fill you with guilt in every passing moment. I watch movies on TV or TVD on my laptop but nothing just clicks as righteously as my writing can. Currently I am writing this post while having my lunch - a big bowl of milk-cornflakes. Yeah. I tend to skip lunch sometimes. Not because I am on some diet but because this is the way I am. I live by my own rules and terms and conditions. I make them and break them as per my convenience.

I remember writing a scene for my book. All the main characters are in the house and it is quite late. Two of them volunteer to make tea for everyone. The girl makes the tea while the boy starts piling up the plate with biscuits. And this was the moment which happens rarely but when it does, the author or the creator of it feels nothing but soul uplifted. As the girl and the boy continued with tea and biscuits, I felt them so close to me that a soulful smile broke my face. I felt...I can't define it in words though but let me try...it felt surreal. The beauty of it got me awestruck! I felt so glad that I could find my characters' closely around. In short, it was a lovely sensation. I loved it! So that's it for today. A short post, a good memory and a smiling me...this is all what you expected here. Isn't it?

Tuesday, 11 August 2015

The sweetest friendship.

So this happened right after Friendship Day this year (sometime in recent times). My son made us buy 4-5 friendship bands to tie on his friends' wrists. So we obliged.

Next day, I asked him whether he would tie one on my wrist. This was his polite but firm reply:


But why not? I am your mother and hence, can be your friend too?!

Still no.

Okay! I will give you french fries.

Okay done.

And thus was established the sweetest and selfless story about a mother-son becoming friends that may have happened ever.

Sunday, 2 August 2015

A bubble of thought.

What does this bubble make you think? It looks tempting to me. Staying blank in head. It would be a good thing to create an empty space once in a while...to get a grip on self.

Friday, 31 July 2015

Being an extrovert.

An extrovert, in my view, is a person who has taken freedom of speech jargon a little too seriously. In short, extroverts can talk! I am also an extrovert, ready to talk any given minute of day (or night) and also do not hesitate to talk to strangers. An extrovert can be multifaceted too as in along with being talkative, s/he may cover other qualities such as writing, painting, sports, or any talent which let the person open up more. And not to forget, speaking or giving talks. This might be the most favorite thing to any extrovert's endearment. So being an extrovert can be really interesting because:

Limitless talking.

Sometimes I wonder how much I can talk! It is not a question but rather an acknowledgement of the vast competency I possess for talking. Talking seems to let extroverts out with things they want to say and not only in one or two sentences, I dare add. When being around with an extrovert, be ready to listen a twenty lines reply in exchange of a one liner question of yours.

I wonder why there is an option for Mute.

Thursday, 30 July 2015

यादों में लिपटा एक चेहरा.

ज़िन्दगी ने कुछ यूँ मजबूर ना किया होता 
तो हमारे रिश्ते का भी आज एक नाम होता। 
उन हसीं पलों के झरोखों में 
शायद हमारा भी एक आशियाँ होता। 
पानी सी बेपरवाह फिसलती उन बातों में 
शायद हमारा भी एक ठहराव होता। 
फासले आज कुछ इस क़दर हैं 
ना रास्तों का होश ना मंज़िल की खबर है 
जो मालूम होता कि रह जायेंगे यूँ तन्हा 
इस मुकाम तक आते आते 
तो ख़ुशी यूँ ही तुम्हारे नाम कर देते 
आने की तुम्हे ज़हमत ना उठाने देते। 
पैरों में छाले शायद पड़ गए होंगे 
दर्द उनका चेहरे पे भर गया होगा 
जो बस होता हमारा मुक़द्दर पे ए-मेरे-दोस्त 
यकीनन तुम्हे एक कदम ना उठाने दिया होता। 
चलो कोई बात नहीं 
दुनिया के दस्तूर पे मेरा बस तो नहीं 
मगर हाँ ! इतना ज़रूर कर सकते हैं कि,
जहाँ हैं वहीँ से तुम्हारी मुस्कराहट की 
दुआ करते हैं। 

Wednesday, 29 July 2015

The epic hour.

I cannot express enough gratitude to my little sister who led me to watch Stories by Rabindranath Tagore on the channel Epic. Every Tuesday and Wednesday, 5 PM to 6 PM is reserved (it's a repeat telecast hour). I make my tea and enjoy the epic hour with epic tales by Tagore along with some biscuits. These tales are directed by renowned Bollywood director, Anurag Basu and he has given an enchanting touch to Tagore's pen. The music, ambiance, characters, sartorial choices, dialogues, expressions, beauty...everything is so beautiful yet so normal that anyone can easily get lost in them. The introductory music is the best, in my view.

An interesting moment happened with us this evening and I shared it on my pages as below:

What goes around comes around.

A suiting example happened when my sister and I conversed over phone today. As we both love watching Stories by Rabindranath Tagore on channel Epic, she remarked something like this...

"He (Tagore) wrote all these stories almost a century ago yet they look so normal and in a perfect sync to our lives. How come this can be possible?"

I said, Well! Good stories bind you not because they are extra-ordinary but because they are so ordinary that you can almost look yourselves into them; that you can always find some of your lives' bits into them.

And she agreed. Isn't it true? By the way, watch Tagore's stories @ Epic and enjoy some of the greatest stories written by an epic author. For details, internet is always at your service. 

Monday, 27 July 2015

Don't tell me a poem.

Don't tell me a poem that rhymes with every word
don't tell me a tale that ends on a winner's note
Instead, tell me something that I can see myself into
Something that can catch my eyes off drowning waves;
Also, tell me it is okay to have a disease
it is okay to not to be at ease
it is also okay to stress eat
while everything sinks down very deep;
Gone to doctor, gave the tests
now fearing what comes next?
with gritted teeth and worn out nails
I fear what I am goin' to hear;
Just tell me everything is okay
just show me life is still a bouquet
of roses, lilies and chrysanthemums
With an ally of thorns
which only accompany and do not hurt anyone;
I just need a bed of hope with two pillows 
that hugs me and help me to grow
one pillow of a shimmering insight
and other of a playful journey;
Give me these or turn me invisible
so that I can go and find a time zone
with everyone there yet nobody cares
and I breathe with a delightful glare.

Sunday, 26 July 2015

Go back in time.

I am sitting in my room since half an hour and have been fighting the killing urge of writing since then. but to write something, one needs a topic or a point of view. Fortunately, I got one. It is to travel back in time and relive some beautiful moments through my beloved Blog.

With more than three hundred Published posts and eight in Drafts, I get considerably a large boundary past which I can go and enjoy the old times. Going through old posts, comments, memories behind those and the onset of several unwritten anecdotes made my time valuable. I smiled as I went through each comment. I got to relive the happiness while replying to every single one of them. In the process, I observed how I had forgotten some of my old posts and their contents. It was very surprising! But not a wonder too. Because time fades away some memories of writing pieces. I was also surprised that I have written posts on a single topic, twice. For example, I have written two posts with a topic on how giving away compliments can make your day but of course, with different perspectives. One is really an old blog post while the other is recently written but there are remarkable difference in contents. This showed how our perspective and experience get fed over time. Wisdom too may be.

I also get to analyze the subtle nuances in my writing. Earlier my posts used to be very long but now, they are rather short. Maturity now seeps more profoundly in my words and that's despite of not having wisdom tooth yet! How wonderful is that! :) Some posts are funny like this one

Did I do anything wrong?

This one is rather unusual but I still find it a lovely piece.

A state of nothing.

Following is a poem which still holds true waters.

The journey of a woman

And there are many more blog posts from my shelf that are interesting and thought provoking. Sometimes I wonder if I wasn't into writing then what else would I be doing? Because writing is so amazing and elusive too. My blog helped me today to rejuvenate some old memories and wipe clean them so that I could enjoy my old self in their shine. Try it, if you own a blog or a journal or something similar to that. They say - One can only move on when he leaves the past behind. But sometimes, in my way, one can move on only when he learns to befriend the past.

Wait! Isn't this a remarkable piece of wisdom. Oh my! I seriously am on the way of becoming one of the most memorable future writers of the world. Wish me luck! :)

Friday, 24 July 2015

An unexpected compliment.

Almost two weeks ago, one of my neighbors came to invite me for her daughter's birthday party. Along with the invitation, she also passed on a compliment which was a complete surprise. A total out-of-the-blue thing. She said,

"And regarding your WhatsApp statuses, I truly love them! Everyday you write something so wonderful that I actually look forward to it. I everyday go to your window and read it and literally enjoy it"

What a great surprise it was for me. I never knew someone looks forward to what I write as my WhatsApp status but it was a treat to my ears and heart. I loved her words and thanked for making my day. It was a big compliment for me.

Today I changed my status again. In fact, it is the extended version of what I put yesterday. This is what I wrote yesterday as my WhatsApp status -

"If you can manage a day without writing, you can manage a life without it too!"

This is one of my thoughts and dedicated to my love for writing. Now this is my current WhatsApp status to tickle a smile -

'If you can manage a day without writing, you can manage a life without it too!'

'So what did you write today?'

'My WhatsApp status!' And I was in an instant receipt of her admiration.

Enjoy! Words are all I got to share. In the meanwhile, do not forget to pass on a compliment to someone to make their day better.

Wednesday, 22 July 2015

The buzz of life.

Sunday. 19/07/2015. 8.45 AM. Received a call from my neighbor asking when I am supposed to go buy vegetables for the upcoming week. I was sleeping like a coma induced person. Opening one eye and simultaneously looking at the clock trying to figure out the meaning of blurred vision, I said, in one hour probably! She ordered me to take her along too and that's how my Sunday morning started...in a sudden rush. 9.40 AM - Got out together for grocery shopping, had breakfast outside ending with a delicious and rather a bitter taste of filter coffee. The weather Bangalore is sprouting these days is just seductive and can only be satiated by the rich bitter aroma of filter coffee. Or, that's where my taste lies!

The reason I am writing this post is, that yesterday I came to know that Bangaloreans are opting for late dinners aka early breakfasts. And in a king size! On a broader scale, this means, city people are waking up really early only meaning to hit breakfast joints to enjoy a king size meal. No wonder I was also a part of this madness last Sunday. There are services getting provided to take this frenzy up to an entirely new level and everyone is just lovin' it. A noteworthy service among them is Bum on the saddle. They provide people a bicycle run of several kilometers with few pauses in between for breakfasts before hitting the paddle again. It looked a bit bizarre to me but since when human beings have developed a taste in sanity?! So this particular service is getting popular and more people are getting fit by hitting the paddle along with rounds of steaming breakfasts.

Sometimes we also do it. In weekends when there is nothing in the house for breakfast, we go out for a lonnggg drive just to honor the morning ritual of breakfast. Sitting inside the car, I try to figure out shapes of clouds in the sky. Look at the people with verity of faces with even more variations of expressions. Stare at road sides to spot something to shop. Eye mischievously at love struck couple/s and try to feel the warmth snoozing between held hands. Trees, vehicles, bridges, fly overs, traffic signals, honking, relaxing, cool breeze, breathing, smiling, potholes, smooth roads...almost everything starts to shape itself in a different shadow in my head. A tiny anecdote - During one of these morning rides, I was looking at the sky only to realize that it literally resembled a river with ripples but only upside down. See! That's how a writer's imagination grows munificently. I love giving a different face to things despite of their appearances.

I can feel you are also tempted to come and join my city. Well! You are welcome but only if you have some energy to contribute to such morning dramas and rendezvous.

Tuesday, 21 July 2015

The space in between.

It can't get better
the love we share
the quotient we created
and smiles we blare;
How time has passed
and has come to standstill
when nothing can be said
and everything beckons will;
A will that never had me
An urge that has challenged me
was it you or just me?
that tortured ripples underneath me;
I no understand the face 
nor the warmth in between
but always felt your presence
whenever I needed something serene;
Gone are the days when we used to play
tickle, touch and gaze
beautiful they were though
and deadly charming I amaze!
I miss those moments
but I miss You more!
do you feel the same way?
have no say if it is a 'No';
Yet I wish you a bountiful of happiness
with luck, success and ticked wishes
smile and smile a little more
'cause you dazzle which I deeply adore. 

I have a dream

I have a dream, a song to sing
To help me cope with anything
If you see the wonder of a fairy tale
You can take the future even if you fail
I believe in angels

Something good in everything I see
I believe in angels
When I know the time is right for me
I'll cross the stream, I have a dream

I have a dream, a fantasy
To help me through reality
And my destination makes it worth the while
Pushing through the darkness still another mile
I believe in angels

Something good in everything I see
I believe in angels
When I know the time is right for me
I'll cross the stream, I have a dream
I'll cross the stream, I have a dream
I'll cross the stream, I have a dream

- From the movie, Mamma Mia!

Why a man cannot respect his woman partner?

The point of topic seems one of the senile lectures out of grand ma's book of ethics concerning relationships but it is still a debatable issue to talk about. Between husband and wife, love is important. There should be a need of basic understanding fulfilled as well. A quotient of fun and other light things should also be created. But what about respect? Respect must co-exist as well and that too both ways. Isn't it?

Recently I was talking to a lady and during the conversation, she confided such a thing that is usually kept hidden in the cob webs of almost every house hold; which is hardly acknowledged and never talked about. She said that if given a choice, she would have left her husband ages ago! I was startled to hear that. They both have been living together for a little more than three decades. They even have grand children but what an awful thing for a wife to say like that! For the record, I am not blaming or accusing the woman here. It is also not like she is a bad or an ill-thinking woman. She is a woman who can be adored for her repertoire of adaptability, perseverance,  kindness, joviality and what not. Her qualities are endless and she is admired by everyone around her. It is her ability that has crossed the borders of others' snides and rudeness with the warmth she carries in her heart. After all these years, she has achieved everyone's love yet...she said such a line that shook me deep within.

Thursday, 16 July 2015

11 simple ways to deal with Stress-eating.

Food is considered as one of the major celebrations in our lives while its primary work is to keep our stomach full and provide the energy to the body required for day to day struggles. But when you turn to bite as a form of getting some comfort, the action nails some attention. I am talking about Stress-eating alias Emotional-eating. If you feel angry, stressed, anxiety, guilty or even happy (Yes. Happy. Happiness is also a stress for our body to which we tend to comply very easily) and crave to reach out to the office drawer or kitchen cupboard for some food comfort, you may be a hapless victim of stress-eating. Emotional bombardment is natural but when cravings go out of hands, you need to keep a check on that notorious stress-eating habit.

Find the trigger - For sensitive people, stress-eating can wreck havoc frequently. So before you indulge into stress-eating every time, try to find out the trigger. Also find out what makes the situation worse. Figuring out the things that agitates your mind abruptly will certainly help you a great deal.

Distract yourself away - Scientists say that if you can manage to distract yourself at the time of cravings, the needling temptation goes away by 99.9%. The same trick can dance wonders for the issues such as stress-eating. If you find yourself stressed by any sorts, just stick yourself out for some distraction. For example - talk to somebody, read a book or draw something. In short, do things that can completely absorb your attention.

And avoid stress-eating!