Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Sometimes I wonder..

                                                                  Sometimes I wonder,
                                                                  Alone and confused..
                                                                Certain answers to “why”
                                                                    I seek in solitude..

                                                                     I think about me,
                                                                  And the times gone by...
                                                                      The past I reflect,
                                                                 The memories that slip by

                                                                I stand at the centre,
                                                                Of many crossroads...
                                                                Scared I look eagerly,
                                                              For directions on boards...

                                                                 The why of present,
                                                                  Stares rudely at me..
                                                                I cover my many faces,
                                                               For I don’t want to see..

                                                                 The future beckons,
                                                              With scented promises..
                                                                  But I hide away,
                                                              Clutching my memories..

                                                                I seek again answers,
                                                               For which the questions..
                                                               have long faded away,
                                                               And formed reminisces...

                                                              The whys slowly disappear,
                                                               And I stare at the mirror..
                                                             and I accept the reflection,
                                                               As it becomes clearer..

Ramblings..of hope..of "16 dec"

Its been an year, post an incident that shook me as an individual. Yes have read about a lot of rape cases, about the atrocities committed not just on women but on children and on men. But this incident did shake me as an individual, for the first time in my life I felt fear at a personal level, the situation seemed so frighteningly close to my everyday life. I have traveled in buses at 9 PM, can’t even call that late, if faced with a similar situation would have fought on the same terms. But what happened to that brave girl, Is beyond imagination, I never thought in my nightmares that humans could do this to another human just because they got agitated when she fought back.

I have always felt about women rights, not that I have ever faced discrimination be it at home, school, college or workplace. Yes I know a lot of good men around me, men who have guided me to understand right and wrong through my lens of understanding, men who have voiced their pain and anguish alongside me and I respect those men;

But there are prejudices that do exist, there is inequality at lot of levels that does exist so let’s accept that. Incidences like rape at some level are about controlling women, as the famous line goes “showing them their place”. It is of course a bigger malice which stems from many sick mindsets and I do not think I understand many of them.

But my point over here is, after that incident I began to think about the change that we need to bring about and I feel when we sometimes talk about change we do not need a revolution to bring about a change, It can begin with you and me. It can begin within my immediate group of people, Yes I might seem mad, challenging everyday things that I should not but then If I won’t do it then I am a part of it. I need to question some of the rituals, need to question some of the everyday things, need to question certain aspects of mass media that show women in certain light.

I can’t stop a film from screening, but I can voice my opinion to whatever number of people that will listen to me, that a song cannot and shouldn't glorify stalking, and million such things. I know there are prejudices that I hold, that I need to correct and that participation in change needs to be much more than just that, someday I hope I will be able to break free and work towards that.

Image source:

But till then, every time I remember the incident I pray for her and I hope that things will change, they need to change otherwise as a society we will be facing a situation which will question the existence itself.  We need to give our girls, first the right to life, then the choice of education, choice to choose their life partner, their career and ensure safety and equal opportunity. There are brave women who have come out in the open and there are brilliant  people who are working towards this collective dream, today I salute the determination and the courage of all of them..

Friday, December 13, 2013

Change the Metaphor of “Better tomorrow”

Mention the word change and some of the first responses- “why?, its better like this” or “I do not understand what for, things that are there are there for a reason, why change them?” and the most often heard, “you are mad, you think you can change the world?”


Big or small, all actions result in change and one day all such sparks ignite the fire.  This is my post for “Stay free and Healthy day”.
There are a lot of issues that we as a society and; that we as a species are facing and all of them require attention from each one of us. Here I take up a cause that is very close to my heart, the issue of women education which by itself results in women empowerment in majority of situations. Women education doesn't only limits itself to women being able to read and write but gives them freedom of CHOICE.

Choice, is an opportunity that is available in a very limited quantity for majority of our women. Choice to:
a)      Determine what they want to do, who they want to be with
b)      Choice to choose a healthy lifestyle for themselves
c)       Choice to be a mother and when to be
d)      And lastly choice to voice themselves

Women education is not just limited to empowerment and a better life for women themselves but for all that are around them and their family. Also, a lot of health related issues would have an immediate solution if we are able to educate and empower our women even in the smallest way possible.

How is the bigger and more momentous question to the problem, the why answers a lot of problems that are staring at us but it is the question of how that needs more attention and that too an how that is workable, possible and for that we can be motivated to initiate.

To start with, the first step comes in choosing the area, adopting one territory and understanding the issues that are troubling women there. Post that holding makeshift classes that can address some of the daily issues that women face so that they are interested to come and join, and encouraging them to send their daughters and sons to schools that are there. Working with the local schools in to getting some practical points on daily living and working with them on their curriculum to make it more robust one of the best examples of the same is an organization called 17,000 feet which has done the same in high terrains of Ladakh.

 The change might be slow but I am sure one day it will bring about the change I look for..

This is a dream that I have dreamt..and One day I will embark on my journey to seek change and spark change to dream a better future and to see the smiles spread across many faces!

Sunday, October 13, 2013

When Mr.Squirrel left the Banyan tree..

        Mr. Squirrel's Moment of Truth..

The post has been selected as a WOW post by blogadda

The story is about breaking shackles, leaving behind fear and being free!! Discovering new things..

Mr.Squirrel had lived in the old brown banyan tree throughout, he was a simple man with little needs and his parents were now wanting him to get married.

 The monsoon season had arrived and the squirrel family was happy as they had saved enough throughout the summer, they watched from the window of their little hole as the big drops of rains fell with a big   "Splash"   on the dry cracked the new green leaves started to bloom. 

Suddenly, Mr squirrel saw an old mouse trying to cover himself as he ran, making "thudding" noises as him bog boots splashed water everywhere. Realizing he might need shelter, as he rested under the tree, Mr squirrel called out to him, 
"Dear Mr.Mouse come up, you can rest here while the rains stops.." Mr.Mouse looked up gratefully, and quickly climbed up as his big bag made "thud thud" noise against the old tree. 

Inside Mr.Mouse drank his warm tea "slurrp slurrp", as Mr.squirrel asked him, "How come you are outside with this bag and boots?? Don't you know rains have started Mr.Mouse?? "

Mr.Mouse looked at the simple Mr.Squirrel and cleared his throat, "grrr, grrr, Dear Mr.Squirrel, first thankyou for great hospitality, I am a traveller, I dont know now which season is when, I was actually going towards the yellow forests." 

His eyes twinkled with enthusiasm, as evening dusk spread its orange light through the white clouds and the cuckoo bird sang "kooh..kooh..kooh".

Mr Squirell was wide eyed with amazement, "But don't you fear Mr.Mouse, you will get killed or die of hunger, being away from loved ones??" He said that in one breath.."poof..phew" Mr mouse smiled at him, "Dear son, discovering life is the biggest risk we take, make full use of your file, dont let these questions tie you down, have a good life" With that he climbed down the tree as the wind made the leaves rust against each other.."Screeeech..sheeesh".

The entire night Mr.Squirrel thought and thought, in the morning he wrote a big letter to his parents, took his bag and set out..without any his big yellow boots clashed with the wet frozen mud.."tip..tap..tip tap"...

 This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

My wishlist of changes..

                            My Delhi..My Manifesto

Delhi, the city of battles, the city which was ravaged 7 times and rebuilt. A city which is often characterized as "unsafe for women", a city which gives employment to million, a city which is teeming with cars, pollution, reducing green cover and high expectations. Its My city, I was born here..I grew up with the dry arid summers, and the cold bone chilling winters..a city which made me dream, a city which made me cry when heart was broken..a city which gave me independence.. a city which embraced me as its own child..

It has the fortune and misfortune of being the city of power, today when I look at my city..and when I hear people looking at with fear, not wanting to live there, I feel sad, sometimes is my 5 point manifesto for making my city a better place:

Image source:
1. The safety of women should be the biggest priority. Changing the society mindset is a long process, but which should be initiated right from school, all girls should be provided with self defence classes as a part of school curriculum. Sensitizing our police force when handling reports of such crimes, with swift action against accused and safe public transport for women.

2. The Second biggest concern is protecting our forest and river Yamuna
- Launch a program with clear deadlines borrowing learning to clean yamuna- Invite international and national NGO's to take up the task
- Identify the forest area lost- and start work towards identifying and afforestation of area
- Limit the number of cars a family can own- reducing vehicle pollution- increase metro coverage and provide more public transport

3. Third priority would be education- making our government school education standard as good as public schools. Free education to girls, providing better facilities and increasing the number basis increased population figures.

4. One of the biggest evils plaguing the governance is "Corruption"- Pass the lokpal bill, anyone with record of any corruption, crime should not be given seat. Publish the details after closure of every public scheme.
Punish any public servants taking bribe and ensure timeline bound closure on such cases.

5. And lastly create more employment opportunities both for men and women, promote tourism, give special incentives to self employed, revive handicrafts and provide selling opportunities. Give easy licenses to hawkers and introduce checks on maid placement agencies to stop human trafficking.
- Also open more rehabilitation centers to provide for a better living and counseling.

“A city is not an accident but the result of coherent visions and aims.”
Leon Krier, The Architecture of Community 

This is My Delhi Manifesto in association with

Easy Doodle recipe - Happy Chilli Pataka Sandwich


This is one of my favorite quick recipes..whenever hunger strikes this is my one of the quick solutions!!

So here goes the story:

One day Miss Chilli and Mr. Onion were working late into the night, writing their new bestseller cookbook:

Miss Chilli yawning: "Dear Mr. Onion, I am tired and very very hungry..I am becoming red."

"Hmmm madam chilli, you have absolutely hit the nail on head..but umm there are very few ingredients in kitchen, you know I have been so busy..that's why I have been wearing blue suit with orange disaster!! "

Miss Chilli rolling eyes, "Ohh onion you are such a ... watever..we are celebrated chefs..we can definitely make something, come wear those ugly brown shoes and lets see what you have got."

As Mr.Onion put his spectacles down on the wooden table, and messed his hair, he looked at the old photograph of his mom, and he went screaming to Miss chilli in kitchen, "I know, I mom's recipe."

Annoyed and hungry, Miss Chilli was turning redder, "very well, I am verrry hungry, be quick"

And Mr.Onion Started, "One cup semolina(sooji), and I will add water in it to make a thick paste, one teaspoon salt, One teaspoon chilli powder."

Miss Chilli now started getting interested, "what next", Mr Onion cleared throat and said, "Hmm difficult part, but no problems, Add one finely chopped onion and green chilly and whip the mixture, I will use a mixer to get the froth."

And off went the mixer.."zrrrrrzrrrzrrr" and "how hungry are you Miss Chilli?", Still wiping her tears for the cut onion and chilli, she replied "hmmm like more than hungry", Mr onion then took 4 bread slices and cut them into neat little triangles. 

"Miss chilli, 2 minutes more, I will now dip the bread slices in the mixture and cover from both sides, will you please heat up some oil in a pan??" , In the heated pan he put the slices and toasted them from both sides till they were brown..he took out his homemade tomato sauce and neatly decorated them with some coriander on top!!

Miss chilli looked at the watch to realize it took only ten minutes!! She took one bite and was so happy that she gave Mr.Onion a peck on the cheek!! Mr.Onion was smiling all through the night!!

Hope you like the try it!! It's fun :)

My Doodle recipe is a part of Easy Doodle Recipe contest at in association with

Friday, September 6, 2013

7 days with Mother Nature..

This is my post for day 6 of the write tribe festival. .this is 7 stanza poetry, each stanza representing one day as the mother nature puts her pain across..

7 days with mother nature

Day 1
I walked along with her with light footsteps..
As she bathed in the glow of warm sunlight;
she kissed the yellow sunflowers and,
she danced as she walked to the silent river,
and she cried as she saw the dark black water
and prayed for the deceased soul of her beloved daughter..!

Day 2
The white clouds scattered across the warm blue sky,
and we walked silently with heavy steps...
towards the mysterious dark dense forest;
she prayed in her heart and stopped suddenly
as she saw the mutilated body of her son..
the gentle elephant lay dead shrouded by the weeping trees!
Image source:

Day 3
We shivered as the hazy white mist enveloped us and
the big raindrops of the moody drizzle covered us;
she smiled after a long time as she watched the faraway rainbow
We halted at the barren patch, with the remains of the tree trunks
Her tears soothed the raw tree trunks, as she sat at each and prayed,
she simply said, "O, why, why did you murder them?"

Day 4
The clouds changed their colour to the menacing black
and thundered as the lightening blazed across the dark sky;
Her eyes were swollen red as we climbed to the summit,
of what was once her newly born strong mountain;
she looked at how it was ravaged, blasted and hurt,
it was dying a slow death, asking for forgotten mercy!!

Day 5
she walked with her dark black hair flying across,
her red eyes blazed with unconstrained anger ,
we walked slowly and heard the roar of the waves,
they splashed helplessly at the oil ridden shore
and carried with them heaps of dead fishes
who she lamented angrily did not want the oil that spilled..

Image source:

Day 6
The hailstorm started and the hard ice balls crashed
on the barren grounds with deep cracks;
the noise clashed with the noise of heavy machines
she stared blankly as they took from her womb,
the precious minerals as they said and left her torn..
poisoned with harsh chemicals that burned her..

Day 7
She stared hard at me, as the oceans roared and
the rivers tried hard to break free from the shackles of dams
the animals and the birds shrieked with anger
I loved you too once, she said softly
till you turned murderers, without any love, compassion
I still hope one day, you weep with me at the loss of

Write Tribe

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Aspects of love: 55 word mini stories!

After long hours of contemplation on theme seven here is my entry for the write tribe festival.
 I decided to attempt seven 55 word stories centered around the theme of Love, its various aspects- separation, longing, rejection, wait, reunion, first love, friendship..

I waited long after you were gone, staring at your fast disappearing footsteps; longed for you to come back. I walked and rested at the faraway bench. In the deserted park I cried, “you can’t be dead”; I looked up and saw you sitting right beside me; I smiled knowing you will never leave me. 

He watched as she carried the wet clothes to dry, “You look beautiful” he wanted to say, but he hesitated; it’s been only two days since they were married but he knew he loved her. She smiled as she watched his hesitation, she longed for him to hold her and simply say “I love you..”

She looked at herself in the mirror carefully and applied the kohl again, combed her long black hair again and smiled to herself. She waited for the sound of his motorcycle and rehearsed her words again, she saw him come from the window with another girl on the backseat and she simply washed her face.

He anxiously looked at his watch, she never took this long. Dark thoughts engulfed him, and he decided to find himself, he walked past the crowd searching for her amongst the many faces.  Finally he saw her and smiled as she sat peacefully lost in prayer inside the temple, “Ma,come we need to go”.

He waited at the small railway platform with a bunch of wild purple flowers tied with a small string. The train halted and she walked out, searching with expectant eyes and found him staring at her, and ran toward him; he got up and smiled after long years, “thankyou grandpa for coming”, “welcome back home.”

First Love
He ran to the park, with his shining new bat in the hand. At the entrance he saw her and stopped in his tracks, forgetting the bat, he smiled at her and she smiled back. He offered her the chocolate, she accepted and gave it to him, his first love, the beautiful big yellow bike.

He heard silently as she shared the news of her marriage. She described her fears and anticipations and he held her hand comforting her. She saw his moist eyes and simply said, “I will miss you always”,  and he smiled back saying, “I am not your brother, but your best friend, and will always be.” 

Write Tribe

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

7 wolves and the little red riding hood!

Seven is is has many interpretations and many poetic meanings..Here is my entry for day 3 of the write tribe festival..a write up on the current affair of things..taking help of the old classic "Little red riding hood".

The post was picked as the spicy saturday post by blogadda.. :)    Spicy Saturday

She walked past the little green shrub with dark red berries and plucked a few as the wind ruffled her long black hair. She walked with the song of the trees and laughed along with the mischievous breeze, on the liitle pathway; suddenly the clouds thundered in the spring and warned her,

"O..Little red riding hood
go back, go back,
7 wolves are there in the woods
go back go back
cover yourself up and dont talk
go back, go back
dont look around just slowly walk."

 She listened to the changing weather but she had to go to get the fruits, so she walked and walked and met the first wolf, who stared at her and passed lewd comments and laughed and laughed at her discomfort, he followed her to make her uneasy and she ran ahead; she met the second wolf who asked her to marry him and when she refused, tried to throw the acid on her; frightened and confused she ran ahead but the acid burnt her arm and face; looking for some help when she met the third wolf who looked the most menacing and tried to rape her, she pleaded and fought but to no avail; the wolf simply said, "you shouldn't have come out of the house, you have no right to live!" she fought and ran hard, dropping the fruits on her way..

She sat at the big rock and cried and cried, when she met the fourth wolf, who laughed at her disheveled state and told her how he had killed his daughter because she married out of the wolf tribe, she simply stared at the absurdity and prayed for the deceased soul; collecting herself she walked ahead and met the fifth wolf who simply told her, she is lucky to be alive for he had killed her daughter when she was not even born, for a girl is just a burden and nothing else; filled with hopelessness and anger she held a tree for support and came the sixth wolf who was forcefully carrying a screaming, screeching girl, she tried to stop him when he simply told her that he had bought this girl and if she interfered she would also have to face similar;

Image source:

Disheartened she sat by the stream, when she finally saw a nice man coming to help, he tended to her wounds and gave her comfort, she trusted him and married him when she saw the camouflage..out came the seventh wolf who hit her and asked for money..when she said she wants to go back to her grandma, who can't give anything, he burned her alive..since she couldn't get the dowry!!

The situation is improving..this was just to highlight the problems in the form of wolves of today!! But there are changes which act as a lumberjack to help the little red riding hood, come back alive..!!

Write Tribe


Monday, September 2, 2013

Favorite things to do when it rains!!

I love rains!! since I am an incurable optimist romantic..rains just lift my of the chaos and traffic..So I was thinking what to write for the write tribe festival and Bangalore rains gave the inspiration for here is a list of my favorite 7 things to do in rains!! 

1) Obviously get wet!! It is the most wonderful shower with the cool wind that just makes you and your hair go wild..there is nothing compared to the feel of water droplets splashing on your face..just stand with closed eyes..and let the moments go by..

2) Eat hot hot pakoras!! - or anything hot and spicy!! they just taste more wonderful with the ambiance of the ever so fresh rains..with the sound of the falling water..just sit and bite into the spiciness!!

3) Cup of hot chai with a great book!!- There is nothing more relaxing then sitting by the window with chai cupped in both hands and a book on your lap..the day can just pass by and nothing more is needed!!

4) Listen to old romantic hindi songs -the music of the splashing droplets creating puddles and the old classics.. "tum aa gaye ho".. and so many more!! Its the magic of the rains...

5) Drink hot chocolate!! - one of the only times..that hot chocolate is even more comforting..
The source of image: www.turnorthpainting,com

6) Watch classic rom-coms -Ohhh the list is endless..and I cry all over again in the end scene
, sleepless in seattle, notting hill, when harry met sally..and so on...the rains just are the perfect to watch them again!

7) Cuddle with "the" person or with just the pillow (sigh!) - well for now pillow is what it is ;)

Write Tribe

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

The feeling of warmth..

My attempt at 100 word fiction:

The unsaid..

She watched him from the corner of her eyes as he sat down across her and smiled, she sighed as she met his eyes, still the warm brown that made her speechless. They sat in silence as she fidgeted with her blue cotton sari, “You look beautiful in blue”, she blushed as the waiter brought their warm tea. The silence was heavy and she got up to go, he never stopped her, she turned back with moist eyes, “I love you, I wanted to say it, even if it is 20 years late.” He held her hand, “I always knew.”

The Broken heart..
She sat at the window as the traffic went by, she played with her hair as she cried silently. She had poured her heart out and he had said a simple “no”, there was no why. She ran to the mirror and stared at her disheveled self in self doubt, she wasn't good enough for him she thought wryly. The shrill doorbell, annoyed her as she ran across the empty hall, surprised she took the yellow flowers, “You are my princess, and my first love. You are the most wonderful person I know, don’t loose hope- with love your Dad”

Happy Birthday!
She had been waiting at the bench for past one hour, the dusk had started colouring the warm hues of darkness. She looked anxiously at her watch, “He was never late”, she wondered and today was a special day, “has he forgotten it?” she thought nervously. The doubts of hopelessness engulfed her and she watched the children play. She saw him came running“ I am sorry” he apologized as he gave her the wild flowers. He took her hand in his small ones, “Dadi, Happy Birthday! I got late in school, now please smile” and she hugged him with relief.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

In the land of peace...

The stillness was inside me as I looked around
the river flowed beside me, as I watched it go
the warm orange dusk had started its show..
mystical, magical and serene..

The landscape changed colours..ready for the show
the long winding road paused as it watched with me
the deep mountains smiled as they wore their cape
to narrate a story..deep within me..

The warm yellow flowers coloured the damp greens
and the act had started..I looked spellbound
the blue of the rivers and the deep browns of the
rugged patterned mountains..they whispered to me..

The white of the soft snow..the blue raindrops
and the turquoise of the calm passionate lake
the laughter of the heavy long winds
and the floating clouds..they touched me..

I stood admist the nothingness..
and experienced with open arms the vastness
and the story silently filled the emptiness
which was there within completed me..

As the warm salty tears flew with the wind
and fell with the raindrops in the flowing river
and I touched the cold prayer bells..
I felt peace with being just me.. 

Sunday, June 16, 2013


The cool breeze of the mystical autumn
And the streets scattered with golden leaves
Amidst the never ending honks of rushing cars
And the silent whisperings of the tired birds

I think of you..with all the pain..
You held my hand when the clouds thundered
And when the narrow streets were full of water
You held me when I trembled with sobs
And you left me with swollen red eyes

I roam in the by lanes of old Delhi
As the approaching winter darkens evenings
Amidst the small shops that twinkle with lights
And the bright smell of the varied street food

I think of you..with all the memories
You made me distinguish from abundant hues
And made me identify with my colour
You helped me see across the horizon
When the orange monsoon sun lighted the sky

The hustle bustle of the ever crowded Jan path
And the silent evenings of the central park
Amidst the warm dusk as it envelops autumn clouds
And the shining neon boards of the inner circle

I think of you..with all the love in my heart
You made me understand what emotions meant
And how they embraced me with open arms
You made me see the falling dusk
And bathe in the glow of the coming dawn

The mythical evenings in Humayun’s tomb
And the magical sounds of crushed leaves
Amidst the song of the cool evening breeze
And the whispers of the ancient history

I think of you..with silent unexplained sobs
You walked away when I wanted to hold you
And made me understand loneliness
You never looked back as I waited
To have your presence back in my small world

The dying slow path of the old Yamuna
As it meandered across the black dark waste
Amidst the small flower trees that laughed
And waited for the cold winters to come

I think of you..with painful longing
With you I have had the most precious moments
And now they slip away like the warm sand
The snapshots of memories or were they mirage?

I feel the smell of the reticent cold
And wrap my arms around me,
I breathe in the dark red glow of the sunset
Amidst the flying birds as they circle around

I think of you..with the bittersweet remembrances
I know you have left still your imprint remain
Sketched deep in my memory and feelings
I feel the warmth of the fading autumn sun

I need to let go of the mist of fallen rains
I close my eyes and whisper my prayers
As I sit on the damp soil for comfort
The memories soon fall away with warm tears..

Saturday, June 15, 2013

Musings of a converted shopaholic..

I looked across the window, through the hustle bustle as the sea of swarming people jostled me, the view was blurred as my eyes adjusted to the various hues as they rushed past me. With a deep sigh I forced myself to blink and move away, but the image beckoned me, it was of course love at first sight; there were already images in my mind how my life will become so much better with the presence of the unknown stranger and wasn't that the point of every relationship? I reasoned with myself as to how this could be one life changing decision that I was running away from. Every self help book, magazine and now even people's facebook status said the same thing, "A relationship is supposed to make you feel good" and here I am single at 27, running away from a potential life changing relationship. Of course I still didn't know if it was mutual or not but then...

With my head full of swarming thoughts, I rested at the nearby chair of the coffee shop and ordered for a decaf latte, one needs to watch out for those extra calories these days as I sipped my tasteless coffee and, watched with mixed feelings of longing and self righteousness at the girl sitting at the adjacent table having my favorite cold coffee with extra cream and that crunchy cookie. "You need to watch your weight" I reminded myself again and instead forced myself to think, as the self help books prescribed at other happy thought but all I could do was smell that coffee, forcing myself to get up and walk away, I smiled proudly as it was already 1-0 in my favour, I had resisted the temptation at least for once.

I had just walked a few steps, when I saw him again, this time as he flirted with another girl, she smiled and laughed and I looked jealously; wondered how he would be if he was with me, would he make me look better, make me look happier and satisfied? just as these thoughts were forming shape, a loud push threw me off balance, cursing the rushing girl, who looked back to just smile and apologise, I saw another one; and this time I knew I can't resist, I had to had to go across and give it a try..but a smaller inner voice inside my head reminded me, of the broken heart, of the sobs at the money wasted, of the closet full of reminders that needed to be thrown away, of the fact that I needed to declutter, "you are a convert, resist the temptation"

Throwing caution to the wind, I ran with all my heart and passion and almost collided with the salesman, "I need to try them" I pointed at the beautiful green shoes, as they looked longingly at me, "Oh size 6". As I wore them, I understood what it meant to that girl who was wearing them, why she flirted with them as she walked, I almost smiled with glee as to how they fit me, this is what a perfect relationship means I mused. I decided I needed to throw out all those books, which had me away from this happiness. I almost wanted to scream to the salesman, "yes, they are perfect I need them". I walked up the cash counter and took out my "only remaining" credit card, just before handing it out, I looked at them once again and knew I needed them, "that would be 5000 mam" the guy at the counter replied mechanically.

Just for a millisecond it hit me, but then you cant put a price to happiness I reminded myself, logically also they made perfect sense, they would go with everything I had, they were the colour of the season. Just then that irritating small voice started of, "you had decided not to do this, we were so good, its already been three months, this is not what you want, you resisted the coffee, and this would be a tie 1-1, they are just shoes" even at the thought of they being called just shoes, I rolled my eyes, I was in love and I needed to give them a try so that they can be a part of it.
"Mam, there are customers waiting, please" , "uhmmm, can I please try them once again?",  sensing the indecision, he suddenly changed his tome, "of course mam, why don't you wear these only we will pack your old sandals" and once again the affair started.

As I came out, it was like breathing fresh air again, "Why be a convert, when indulgence is fun!!", the inner voice smirked, "just wait till your bill comes out, then I would ask about the love", but till then I smiled as I strutted in them.

Be Bold Stay Real

Be Bold Stay Real at BlogAdda

“Reality is sometimes just an illusion”

In the world where success is synonymous is with wealth, power and position the biggest challenge in itself becomes staying real. “Do I just tow the line and wear the mask? so that I get that next promotion?”. The option in itself is not just lucrative but far easier as well; becoming a clone of the “stereotypical corporate executive” and being one of the favourites will lead to that big raise, that coveted big car, that well decorated house in the most talked about street as well the power that comes with it, then why contradict?

On the other hand is the tag of “being yourself”, do I stay real?? Do I question those activities that are not in line with my thought process? Do I say what’s on my mind and earn the wrath of my superiors? And this leads to being labelled as strong headed, not a team member, arrogant. And you are met with cold stares, labelling as an average performer, somebody to whom people come when they need to bitch about their supervisors.

You observe both these kinds of people in everyday life, some judge them basis the superficial symbols of success and very few actually observe the different parameters of success. Is being bold and staying real actually difficult, the answer is an emphatic yes, specially in the way today’s corporate environment is manufactured. Its manufactured to have yes men, moving higher up the ladder, its does not value free thinking, contradiction and debate.

Yet, at the end of the day if you don’t feel satisfied, if things that you wanted to say are still inside you, if you never show your disagreement you are not successful, being successful is not about the show but its about that satisfaction that you are still you, with that distinct identity even if in the eyes of the masses you are a failure, you are behind your batch mates, at least you have the satisfaction of being yourself. .of being real…

I Have Thought of you..

From the first ray of the dawn..
the bright orange ray illuminates me
to the shadows of the falling dusk..
when the cool breeze embraces me..

I have thought of all my being..

From the hope of the morning sun
to the resting lights of the dark night..
from the first chirping of the birds
to the long flights in the warm evening..

I have thought of you...with all my heart..

But I fear and I tremble
far too often I have been hurt
I look up at the clouds
shining with orange lining..

I try to breathe again slowly
but only your images come to me

I walk and I run, faster and faster
trying to run away from you
Yet all I have done is
Just thought of you...

Monday, June 3, 2013

The music of the rain..

The warm red of the dusk seeps through me
As I soak in the rays through the dark clouds
The darkness slowly descends
and the first drops of the blue rain fall
They soak me in eternity of hope
they embrace me, and envelope me
with the warmth of existence
without any conditions, any judgements
they make me a part of them
As my salty tears get mixed with them
I loose myslelf in the music of falling rain
The time loses all meaning
and I stand with my hands outstreched
moving with the unknown rhythm
It doesnt ask any questions, It doesnt give answers
It just soothes me, makes me forget
the road ahead is blurry, unknown
and I don't want to see what's ahead
I just walk slowly, splashing the muddy puddles
laughing with the tired green leaves
It washes away my footsteps
and walks with me, helping me
make my own small paths in the darkness..

Thursday, May 23, 2013

A thief is born...since its a girl child!

One of the common saying in India and China is guess what,
“A girl child is a thief”

Another saying of Indian culture is.
“Bringing up a girl child is like watering a neighbour’s tree”

Sample another of our sayings in religious texts
“A son needs to be born here, let a girl child be born somewhere else”

I know this is a often repeated subject, but this is just an outpouring of angst, reignited because of an award winning documentary on girl child..the only similarity between India and china is when it comes to female foeticide or infanticide..India’s sex ratio is at 941 and guess what is for china..close behind 944..

I am a girl, and I have a right to life..the most fundamental of all the rights in the world, yet that is the one that I am denied. I laugh when I realize the irony of it, for I am the giver of life on this earth and I am the one who is not allowed to breathe. Over time, my parents have got new innovative ways of killing me, and I am made to sleep in the womb forever.

But sometimes I wonder, what if I had survived? A life of discrimination, of being a burden? At first I didn’t really understand why the preference for my brother, why was I made to leave school, why was I not allowed to go out after dark, why was there always a sarcastic remark when I asked for something, why was I said to be someone else’s property?

But then as I started understanding they were doing me a favour by killing me early..otherwise I will be raped and killed, with such unbearable pain, to teach me a lesson for daring to live my own way, or I will be traded in the dowry market worst still I will be burned alive..these are just some of the situations where I still get peace in death..

Just sometimes I think..why dont I have a right to live, to live with dignity..Are there any answers??

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

What is it?

The shy smile for unknown reasons
The silent giggle for the strangers
the warmth of the farway horizon
as it seeps into the very being..
is that it?

The whispers of the mystical breeze
The rustling of the old yellow leaves
The songs of the falling raindrops
And the myriad patterns of the dark clouds
Is that it?

The questioning looks at the mirror
And the splashes at the puddles of water
The multiple glances at the colours
And the heartfelt prayers..
Is that it?

I don’t know what is it
I fold my hands and I bow down
To utter a humble thanks
For letting me feel all this
Whatever it is..
For it connects me to me
And above all to you..

Monday, April 22, 2013

Delhi's unsaid, unheard, unseen tears!

Hi, this is for my city, that I belong to..yes whatever maybe my roots, as every delhite is asked to, I belong to the city!! This is for the pain I experience every day when I hear about the crimes happening there, and how I want to sit on the soil and comfort myself...

You know me as 5000 years old, I have been the capital city, I Have seen wars; seen blood being shed; I have been destroyed and rebuilt. I have cried and tried to comfort my children, tried to tell them I am for all, I don't differentiate. I have seen my child yamnua dying a slow and poisonous death, however hard I have tried yet its my children only that have killed their life source. I have borne many pains but these days I am unable to bear anymore, the soil which still hadn't turned red will turn so now..

I don't understand such savagery, atleast savages who fought wars had a purpose, even if it was as vain as gaining control of my land, but what are these modern day savages doing? What did those innocent souls do to harm them, why oh why please answer me, for I have become old now, why did they rip them apart? For fun? for pleasure? in anger? I cry and cry, and still cant understand..can you answer?

I already carry the burden of being capital, of having borne the weight of those for whose wishes thousands have died, but now my face is covered with my own hands, I cringe when I hear my children saying that they dont want to live here, I feel ashamed that I have not been able to protect my beloved daughters, who fought courageously and I shiver when those savages walk on me, how many such are there? how much burden do I need to carry....

Long ago I had thought, that now the barbarism would stop, that now I would give shelter with my gentle tress, would play music with my warm breeze and would comfort my tired children when they sleep on my moist mud..and all I am doing is soaking the blood of my daughters, the music is of their screams.. I know I cant look them in the eyes..but all I want to say is..I am not the land of savages..I am the land of history, of dreams built like indraprastha and of hope like the qutab minar..dont turn your back on me..I have lots of love to give you..but yes I cant fight those savages..Yes I am ashamed they touch my soil..I wish I could swallow them..yet I hope one day I dont have to see my daughters brutalised..that I one day I finally can rest in peace!

Monday, April 15, 2013

A short love story!

Hi! This one is a sweet love story that I was fortunate to hear about from a very special person, my grandmother. Everytime I see, read or hear stories of apathy, of people being violent for no apparent reason, killing, raping other human beings, I think about this incident and it pacifies me and strengthens my belief that love does heal!!

She sat cross legged on the sofa engrossed in watching the family drama on the TV, her soft white hair framed her face beautifully, her dark brown eyes sparkled with mischief behind the heavy glasses that clouded her vision. She acted as if she didnt care, yet every two seconds she stole glances at the ever so still door. Today was something special, and she had dressed for the occassion, her orange sari with the dark green border contrasted well with her pale skin. She had worn the watch that he had given her 50 years back, it didnt work but it had her initials carved out which touched her skin everytime she rotated it.
The clock was about to strike 1, she noticed ruefully, her grandson would come anytime now..where was he? why did he had to go to meet someone today only? he would not even remember the occasion..but that was nothing new..she smiled to herself, but it was these things only that made him so special!

He waited outside the door, unsure whether to go inside with the gift in his hand, what would people think? He is almost eighty now, these things are for teenagers, yet everytime he saw her he felt like he still was one. What was about her that was so special, that still mystified him, even after 50 years. he straightened his blue kurta, which he had worn specially for the occasion, combed whatever was left of his hair again and rang the doorbell.

She opened it with the smile that had captivated him for all these years, he gave her yellow roses her favorite. she asked with childlike enthusiasm where is my gift?, "I haven't got any" he teased her, when she started to walk away, he held her hand and made her sit alongside him, I have something very special for you, that i have not been able to give you for past 50 years. He opened his wallet to take out an old worn out letter and read to her,

"The first time I saw you along with my brother, I was captivated, I wanted to hold your hand and say there only that I have fallen in love, before that I had not known what love was, what it felt like, but looking at you I realized it meant that all I ever want to do is to make you happy. I know i can only offer you a life of hardship, but trust me I will work to my level best to ensure you are happy and above all I will love you enough to see you are never sad. I hope you like me too, otherwise I wont know how to live.."

She was already laughing before he even ended, and he was angry, you dont have to make fun of it, I know it sounds stupid but..she took his worn out hand in hers and said quietly," You also should know a secret, I have already read this letter, my father had decided against the match, but your younger brother made me read this and I realized I wanted love more than my comforts..and after 50 years today I am glad of my decision, I have never said this but I like how they say it in movies.. I love you" and she blushed and rested her head on his shoulders...She had married an unknown stranger who was her best friend even after 50 years..Love does happen and it does make lives survives against the odds and against and it does make the world a better place to live!!

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Musings of a failed romantic

I look out of the window of my rickety bus as it moves along the dusty road to an unknown town. I have no luggage and no destination..yet I am on a journey to discover what is it I want.

I have gathered the broken pieces of my heart, offered them on a platter to a stranger who threw it off again, and again I slowly gathered them; this time with even finer pieces.they hurt me more but they are still mine, to be polished again so that the edge goes away.

Failures have made me stronger, but did I need be? somehow the heart replies a thumping no, it whispers to me, "I have had enough, can you please let me be, I have always loved with all my might, i cant do it or i dont want to do it, will you please let me be?" The head reasons, "No no, this is the time to be, lets work on things, you dont worry I will make it alrite, I will set this, we cant lose just like that, I wont give up, you rest while I will work, ok" But this time heart does cry out, "Enough of this, I wont take it anymore, I give up..."

The bus continues to pass the warm yellow fields ripe with mustard plants, they sway to the musical tones of the breeze, it is as if they are dancing to each other's presence as they embrace. On the tree the cuckoo bird starts singing to add to the music; the eternal romantic in me wakes up again, "how can you give up on something as pure as love, without it you are just like the endless road..." I hunch up and wrap my arms tightly around me.

My nursing healing heart speaks out again, "Why do I need to be stronger, why do I need to be mature, I loved my innocence when I trusted people without thinking, when I loved without thinking of endings, you have made me mature so that I dont cry, so that I understand but you know what I Dont want to, please let me rest..I need to sleep for a long long time...."I feel the tears rolling down while my head warns me against them.but this time I let them be..