Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Breathing in monsoon, the green scent of freshness!

Chikmaglur in Monsoon rains

Monsoons, when the fairy tales are written
the scent of fresh green, and the mellowed yellows
the soil soaks in and breathes the raindrops
the illuminated colours against the backdrop of clouds
dark, black, soothing and calming
It is the time of love stories being written
on the moist leaves laden with raindrops
the fragrances of freshness, of rain soaked earth
of leaves emanating the scent of vigour, newness
earth emanating the scent of love..among all.. 

The birds sang the song of reunion, of the rain and the dry parched earth, as the car maneuvered the pathways of the mountains to the paradise of rain town Chikmaglur. The first scent that emanated from the forest was of freshness, refreshed tress and leaves, of everything bright and new. The light green of the leaves, and the bathed brown of the deep rooted trees. The trip had started with the singular scent of freshness, freshness of a rain bathed forest, leaves sparkling with small drops and the forest shining in the colour of green.

The patch of brown, watery mud emanated the scent of the monsoon, the earth baked and parched hungrily drowned in the rain. The reunion of the two long lost lovers, the fragrance of love, the fragrance of the eternal scent of the earth drenched in the rains. 

The road ahead curved, as the marigolds gleamed from the faraway distance. The scent of the flowers, the flower of gods as it danced in the monsoon breeze. The bright orange against the dark cloud, the scent of sweetness, of the fresh marigolds as it blended with the scent of freshness and the monsoon rains.

The evening dusk approached slowly as the bright red was splashed by the white clouds. From the window I soaked in the monsoon rain, the single most special fragrance, the fragrance of rain, mixed with the freshness of trees and leaves and the sweet scent of marigold flowers and the scent of the dry parched earth soaked in the rain, carried by the monsoon wind as it refreshes you, awakes you, makes you fall in love and believe in the new tomorrow!!

The Blog is a part of Indiblogger contest, #InspireAFragrance 

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Zest..let's add spice to everyday!!

"What Hunger is in relation to food, zest is in relation to life"- Bertand russel

Without zest, life would be boring. People, places, things and events that turn everyday ordinary into extraordinary, that add zest to life. Here's my list, of what adds spice to everyday life:

The first has to be the smell of an old classic book, just opening the book smelling it first and then reading it again, treasuring the story that has imprinted on life, on thoughts. Relishing the storytelling of a maestro, the artwork of a master painter. The old classics like sherlock holmes add that feeling of wow to the everyday ordinary of living. They transport you into another world, full of possibilities, unlimited.

Open Book

Next comes an unplanned road trip, specially during monsoons. If somebody has to see the beauty of Indian landscape it is through road trips during monsoons. Beautiful curvy roads, dark clouds, trees lined on both sides and a beautiful sturdy car complete the painting, a painting that makes you forget drudgery and invokes the explorer within. Road trips in car, not only make you  relax, but awaken you, to do things that you dreamed of, to create that excitement of being alive.

Drive to chikmaglur

Third is writing, just simply writing, writing anything. Writing to express myself, old tales of travel, of love of hurt. Writing to let myself go in a fictional world, a world where I play the puppeteer, writing stories untold. Writing to release my expressions, unsaid emotions, writing to create a new space in my thinking, a space not discovered yet. Writing to let people know a part of my identity, hidden till now. That's what adds zest, true zest to live a little more.


Fourth is watching an unknown movie, a movie from a faraway land. A movie not popularized my commercial cinema, but a movie that melts the heart; that makes you sit up and start noticing, a movie that makes you think harder, that makes you empathize, that makes you learn, that makes you widen your horizon. A movie that simply makes you live more, to discover and explore.

Zest of life

And lastly meeting a friend, parents, anybody who makes you remind of the people around you  who accept you as you are, without any changes, in all the good and bad that you are. People who make you believe in the inherent goodness, and persuade you to let go of that can harm. People who stand by you, even when you give up and who hold your hand at the crossroads to take a journey with unknown end. somebody who you love, somebody you want to be with always, that's what is Zest of life all about!!

This post is a part of the #ZestUpYourLife
 activity in association with TATA Zest

Friday, July 18, 2014

Real Men don't rape and real women don't expose? Is that the comparison??

Just Some news flashes:

- 6 year old girl raped in school premises in Bangalore
- 22 year old girl raped in Bangalore- by men posing as cops
- people making fun of rape cases- by posing in a particular pose

And so many more, women being raped, acid attacks, children molested and what all. I just want to ask a
few fundamental questions, being a woman, for I am unable to understand and answer:

I wear a short dress, I show my bra strap
how did you read that as an invitation
to molest me?To harass me? to view me as an object?
How is it that I enter a territory
where doing anything to me is justifiable?
Why wasn't I told this earlier
That as a WOMAN, I have NO right to wear
clothes that I want?

Why am I told on steps how to prevent rape?
Don't go out at night, don't drink
don't speak to any stranger, don't travel alone?
Why, Why , why , why
don't you tell MEN, not to rape?
that wearing anything, being with anyone at any hour


How is it that there is justification of such acts?
how is it that as a society we allow such people to speak?
how is it that songs which objectify women
are what are chart busters? and nobody raises an eyebrow?
How is it that it becomes an individual case?
and we escape the moral responsibility?

How is it that it is unsafe to be born as a WOMAN?
as a society we abhor equality? justice?
how is it that eve-teasing is a fun activity?
how is that we stand mute as spectators?
is there ANY, ANY change that will ever happen?

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Black is beautiful! Black is desire..

The dark night, approached mystically
black, sensuous with the scent of desire
it twirled, it danced, it laughed
and it asked for wishes, dark, secretive
With it's magic wand, clothed in black
it picked some, mysterious..Surreptitious..
as the game of seduction just began..
in search of that perfect, elusive, date..

1. The first in the line of fantasy wish list, a black chiffon sari, with small silver beads as it embraced me in its warmth and its charm. It illuminated me with its vastness and depth as it absorbed everything within. It hugged me in its luminescence, and I walked on the red carpet laid down by moonlight. The black not only defined me, that I am mysterious, I am different and I am confident, it gave me a language. A language of unspoken charm and grace. 

2. The gleaming Black BMW is next in the line of desire as it stood waiting. The darkness reflected the power of the shining black car, as it waited for its turn to rule over its empire. The black not only symbolized the strength, but the unapologetic sexiness that drew people towards it. It is the undeclared king of roads, as the black monster, roared along with me, on a journey undefined..on the rough paths. 

2. The gleaming single dark black pearl chain, is what desires are meant for. It gleamed against the skin, as it created the halo of the awe that inspires jealousy and envy. It rested on the space between the neck and chest, a space its darkness ruled with the incomprehensible charm. The strength of that elusive black pearl, not only draws but commands attention as it seductively wins over hearts.It's rare, it is mystic and it is poetry of unparalleled desire.

3. Its beauty is the elegance, the rarity of its existence, the charm of its unique shades that makes you feel blessed, the mystery of the black rose. To hold it is intoxication, the nectar of the darkness, a single perfect Black rose, the elusive story. 

5. The charm of the perfect dark kohl, the black kajal as it turn the coy eyes to the bold, that seductive look that can melt away hearts and pierce the shields. The dream for that perfect kajal, which can define the aura and the power of black. The black, as it seduces and displays its intensity as it conveys without even talking. The simmering of dark black kohl lined eyes, as they set out on a journey to conquer.

The night, all black and dark, stood regally
as the laughter echoed,in the illuminated night
the black pearl gleamed, in its velvety touch
the scent of the black rose, mysterious
trailing of the seductive black chiffon sari
framed by the bold black kohl lined eyes
as the powerful black BMW roared
"black ruled", in its vastness, in its charm
in its rarity and in its calm!!

This post is a part of #WhatTheBlack activity at

Monday, July 7, 2014

When no one stands hold high!!


Books in hand, determination in eyes, hair neatly tied in a ponytail, with a spring in her steps she walked towards the bus stop. They stood there, like everyday, laughing and joking among themselves. She walked past, ignoring them, deep in thought about the exam that she had to clear today, it was already 8 and the bus will leave by 8.15 as she hurried her steps. The loud whistle brought her hurried steps to a sudden halt.

"oh, so today it's red and white, is it, what's the hurry, spend some time with us before going", they jeered at her, laughing at their own audacity. She watched as the neighbors, her uncles and aunts, rushed past heads down without commenting or looking at her. Tears welled up slowly in her eyes, as she dragged her feet. They further called out, "Arrey, look at us, what will you do studying, choose a husband from any of us, look then what we do to you." and they whistled again as she walked away, to catch the bus.

The evening dusk, didn't help her let go of the thoughts. With a heavy heart, she dragged her feet to home, and looked at her frail grandmother. without any prologue she burst out, "dadi today also, they teased me, tehy say such things, I hate it, do you think I should complain in police?", she came near her and patted her head, "beta, stand up for yourself, they will retaliate but be strong, they tease you because they know you get affected, stand up and if they still trouble you, go and complain, I am always there for you."

Next morning, began with the same rush, and she quietly walked past them, this time they whistled again and one of them even threw a stone at her, "today you look hot, the blue really suits you, come here, we will show you the world" one of them laughed out loud. This time, she looked back with a stone in hand and threw hard at them, they scattered and then angrily came running towards her, one of them held her hand, "you are trying to be too smart is it?, you will hit us?, look what we do to you", as he snatched her dupatta and put it beneath his feet. Seeing the tears in her eyes, they started laughing again, enjoying her trauma.

The onlookers walked on, their heads still down. In a choked voice, she replied back, she withdrew her hand from his grip she slapped him hard, "this is for my dupatta and to all of you, is this what you call being a guy, laughing and joking at the expense of a woman, have I ever troubled you?" the impact had them shocked for a minute before the anger returned, and he held her by her ponytail as she screamed.

Suddenly, all of them were hit hard by the broom, shocked they turned around to see the women of the building standing with brooms in their hand, they hit them with all their might, cursing along as they scattered and started running with the impact, her dadi, screamed out to them, "next time, you do this and in pace of the broom there will be a knife and in place of us there will be police"

She smiled at her support, and hugged her dadi, "I didn't feel scared at all, unlike earlier days, I am happy I stood against them, and thanks for helping me out", "don't worry beta, they will not be seen from tomorrow, they are cowards, you need to stand up against them to teach them a lesson.

I am Mardaani

That brave girl and all of the women of the society are Mardaani for me, watching the incident for standing up for themselves and for all women.

This is written as a part of I am Mardaani activity exclusively at 
for Indian Bloggers.

Saturday, July 5, 2014

Freedom..what is that? I am a girl..

Freedom, did you say? please say again?
I don't understand, don't know the meaning
will you please explain? elaborate?
how do you pronounce it? F-R-E-E-D-O-M

Don't look so shocked, so bewildered
I have never uttered this words, never told
I am a "Girl" born in India, allowed 
to breathe, to come In the world, not killed

Yes, that was my only act of free will,
during childhood, I was told to stop playing
for girls don't play, they become dark you see
When those boys leered at me, 
I was told to keep my head down and walk away

Ruins in Lepakshi- the ancient story of women

Self respect did you say? again what is it?
I chose to wear a skirt, they whistled at me
They said it's against culture, as they 
stripped me naked with their hungry eyes
for how I dared wear "anything that I want?"

Rights did you say? again what is it?
I wanted to study higher, but there was a brother too
and the money had to be given to one only
and what use of me studying? My fate
was sealed, I am girl, Marriage is my future

Choice did you say? again what is it?
I was married off, with not so large money
the scars of which are still on my body
his education degrees were far higher 
than me, my self respect and self worth

Love did you say? again what is it?
Violence at home is a "In-home" matter
I only work at home you know? Don't earn
Marital rape..can I even say it aloud?
I am to be a mother, only of a "SON"

What about me did you ask? 
I am to work, with no retirement plans
to be looked down by my son, 
I am a widow, with no rights anymore
to even live as a human being

You look sad? but why? for me is it?
But I am a woman, I have to live by culture
"Indian culture", where freedom is a word
that I can't say, have or own!!

Indian culture..the logic to every absurd remark..what is it?

Apparently everything seems to be against Indian culture (if you are a girl) these days, I wonder why doesn't Indian culture never says anything to guys..Next time people should give speeches only on what IS Indian culture, atleast we will know what it says.

- Wearing clothes that you want to wear, short skirts, dresses, jeans or anything is not Indian culture
 But leching, staring, commenting on clothes and teasing is? 
Why not give lecture on Indian value to them? Why not give speeches on that? Why not tell them this is not "Bhartiya sanskriti"- I though Indian culture taught to respect women- NOT about commenting and blaming what she chooses to wear

- Going out at any hour, without the support of anybody around and specially if women choose to go to pubs
Where is it written that women can't drink, how is it against the "culture"? - Is it culture when men come drinking home and beat women?? Why don't these so called protectors of  Indian culture go and beat such men? instead of beating women who choose to do what they are doing without harming anyone.
Why would a culture be so intolerant of a harmless "individual" choice? - What I believed was any culture gives you space to be yourself with acceptance and respect.
Also, why isn't the same lecture of morality given to men? - A culture that had foundations in equality has become so unequal? 

- Coming to acceptance and respect- how is it that a sexual preference is against Indian culture? 
Was khajuraho made by aliens who wanted to defy Indian culture? How is that a culture that was build on the foundation of tolerance has become so intolerant towards certain sections of society and dominated by the will of certain? Who put these people on the dais and told them they are the proponents of Indian Culture?

Indian culture or any culture is made by society, it goes through turns with changing times and it adapts. Holding it as a sword to slay certain sections of society particularly women isn't correct. Is it culture to marry young girls? but prevent them from choosing their life partners? Is it culture to rape, beat women? but prevent them from choosing what they wear?  

Thursday, July 3, 2014

The sultry dark night and food..

The sultry dark night, illuminated with the flickering candlelight
promise of invigorating conversation, and mischievous laughter
small wooden table amid-st the enchanting flower trees,
decorated with antique borosil diya lights..

The warm scent of the sultry cinnamon infused
green tea, with the whiff of pomegranate
the deep light green reflecting the warmth
as it swirled in the piccolo cups..inviting..

The deep red bell peppers contrasted with
the playful yellow, and the tangy orange ones
lightly sauteed, bathed in the light red
of the tomato sauce, spiked with basil and oregano

The soft strands of spaghetti swirled
in the scent of the garlic in the tomato sauce
the sprinkling of the olive oil coating the herbs
colours clashed with each other in the glass bowl

The warm zucchini salad, splashed in colours of yellow
sparkled in the melamine plates, dancing
on the green lettuce leaves, with hint of vinegar
slightly soft, inviting, in the cool breeze

The dinner continued late in the night
as the steel of the forks and knives clashed with
the beautiful, symmetrical glass and melamine
carrying away the snippets of laughter, love!

The post is a part of "My Beautiful Food", contest at Indiblogger,