This Fall!

Time is a funny thing, yes it is. Especially when it comes to our heart and the people we like. I have never been on a road that says so much of changing, albeit we all have been there with a moment of peace, a moment of truth. Time is the only constant and change,  it’s defiant companion. I have never ever been able to move on defying the fact that so strongly proves the point of how vulnerable time can make a strong heart crumple and writh away to oblivion. I have never ever stayed so very close to the phantoms of the realm I have always ignored. Here I staY, rooted to a place that is so very much like a home. A HOME FAR AWAY FROM HOME. this place helps me introduce to a different person that I have never met, or will ever face in a mirror.

The roads have always been strange, a bit peculiar, funny, unique, trustworthy, oblivious to the very nature of the lighted paths. However overwhelming the paths might lead to, there is no turning back right now for the place has made me meet a person so beautiful, so perfect with all the little imperfections that I am made of.30010608171_55ab69cd45_b

He is a person that my soul recognised but my heart took a double take but still, with all those million reasons for this to not work out, destiny sat like grumpy stubborn little kid and made sure we stay together and hence here I am at my rightful place with a beautiful smile in acceptance to the destiny’s plays. But my choice is beautiful and I love that life chose a gem of a person to be with  me.

Yes, I might take a few more years to know the real him, he is an introvert for christ’s sake and I am totally intrigued by the charm of his silence, mostly a bit confused most of the times but there is an urge to know beyond the silence of the stars, to know the reasons for his smile, the reasons for his sad eyes, those hazel rich honey eyes.

I wish that life would throw me an opportunity to meet his hidden sides. to meet my husband with all his secrets that are neatly wrapped and stored away in the darkness of his heart.

Barely a week into marriage is too early to understand my love!

The extrovert in me is finally excited to settled down with an introvert with so much weightage to his thoughts and words that is so much more beautiful compared to my constant rattling and blabbering. This person makes me complete. I think I am slowly falling for the man I love, all over again:)


Monday-The Day before Tuesday

The title is bound to bring a smile on your face, well the same smile urged me to write about it. Open your oxford dictionary and look into the meaning of Monday! It is the day before Tuesday and it is so funny as to how the dictionary defines it and how we define Monday to be, it is the cruel day after a relaxing relishing partying Sunday!

As always  I start my evening with an article in a newspaper or a page in a book, relishing each little nuggets of pure literature and some mind-twisting vocabulary, I obsess on them hence I rush to take a pencil to underline the words that went off my radar! My fear of such a little knowledge in something that I like is like a phantom always haunting me.

Monday, time

Enough of the bantering . But some philosophical twist to this day!

So Monday is a recurring phenomenon very much similar to other days and months and weeks. I contemplate on the interesting fact that as time ticks by, tides fall and nothing is actually constant, days pass, weeks pass but the day by which we refer it is constant. Monday can never be a Tuesday( I like this phrase) It’s constant.

Likewise Birth is continuous but birth is a constant, so is death, people die, but it is constant and inevitable. hence we live in a world so interrelated and interconnected, we often fail to recognize the irony’s graceful appearance. Such a placid representation of the mysterious mystic life we live in.

Some might say that it’s just grammar or vocabulary rules, but I think both constant and continuous are conjoined twins known to be on a perpetual journey that often dominated by each other’s presence for their different perspective.

The day  before Tuesday is going to come back as fast as it moves away, the beauty of recurrence is enthralling. I wish I knew them from their birth, their initial time; time zero. When everything started, the days, the weeks, the months, the years, the earth and the Universe.

Anyway, Sunday is about to end and your much dreaded Monday is seeking your presence. Brave up a smile, it’s just another day, show Monday what ignorance is, it’s time that it is shoved away from the exaggerated limelight.

Happy Monday:)

photo credit: 11:29 (GMT +02:00) via photopin (license)

The Mayor’s Daughter

There is an old building over the hills, I call it my home. If you want to see me, then hop over the bushes and skid through the gravel, spare the snails along the way, if it rains, don’t usher yourself under the trees, take your time to drench. Smile at the kids playing under the huge banana leaves, ask them the way to the only bookstore in the small town. They might look suspicious with just their pajama and a cotton vest with little drops of water falling from their glowing faces. Believe them for that is your only choice.

When it starts to drizzle, take out your camera and capture the dew-drops on my favourite lilies on the way. Maybe look back quite often, there will be some vehicles that might pass you with a swish, they will the bicycles from the nearby station. By the way, if you happen to meet the post man with his customary brown uniform and brown hat, heaving and blabbering about the state of his parcel. Follow him. He is coming to me.

The kids with you might be a bit clingy, you are new to the place but they are adorable with hearts so pure, while on your way, if you find a bicycle leaned to the barricade, spare not a thought, that is mine and the mansion that you see is of the Mayor’s. Well, the cycle is yours until you reach me but you might prefer to walk the countryside, not all roads are paved. Kiss the kids a good-bye, they have reached their home, the lane where all the houses are alike is their gift from the Mayor. No, they wouldn’t just leave, they will follow you until you reach me. I have something to give them, definitely not the chocolates.

Ask them my name and they will show you the path, to the bookstore up the hill, the only bookstore in the small town of Farma. Deny them your company and they will sulk for a while, so come anyway. Pick the stones sabotaging the path, those are meant for you to trip. Now spare the kids for they seem to hate you, come anyway with them.

When you reach the roads that is paved only for the few, you will instantly know which. THey are planted with the white lilies, a beautiful curve and a stoney path uphill, you might loose your breath but the walk is worth the landscape.

The clouds are so near that you can touch their fluffy cottons, the fog might blind you but everything is worth it. The petrichor and the chirps make you feel alive while the slimey snails makes you want to jump. Dare not step on any of them, they are precious. Finally when you inhale the divine air and sink into the lush greens sprawled around you, step left to the fountain of sparkling waters, there under the shade of the huge banyan tree you will find a old rusty structure, made of red tiles and wet bricks, green mosses growing all over it, a heaven on earth I call it.

There is no door, you can come in, don’t gasp at the collection of my books, they range from all the genres of literature and for all spanning ages. At one corner, facing to the east, if you see a beautiful girl rummaging through the books for her lost locket, speak to her, she is not me but the Mayor’s daughter. At the far end, there is a huge chair towering my height and I sit in there, knees close to my heart, with glasses that is big for my face. I read my favorite novel, you would have never heard of the book though. Well that’s me. I won’t get up to welcome you, I am stranded for a lifetime, you gape there standing while I distribute the story books to the kids. Yes that’s me, in the white sweat shirt and a blue jeans on the black wheelchair.

Come over to hand me that recommendation letter, I will see if you can be my librarian. And I call this my home, I’m the second daughter of the Mayor of the small town Farma, a devout reader.

photo credit:

‘F’ried Summer in Bengaluru

What’s summer like in Bengaluru?

It’s waking up with the golden hues filtering from the designed screens that waves to the mild breeze of the early morning. You smile as the warmth of the sun that touches you and everything else with the kiss of life. It’s summer again.


You would love to take a morning walk or the brisk jog to burn the extra calories or the serene asanas in the presence of the first rays, for your body needs to synthesize the vitamin D in the body. The flowers are bright and so is everything around you, shimmered with the wand of gold, the nature seems to be rich, once in a while the sun peeking through the canopies.


That followed by the hustled start of the day, the paper-boys racing through the roads as on a mission to get the world to you, the milkman ready on his clock for your coffee, the flower vendors happy with the abundance and freshness of the flowers. Then it’s finally you, dressed in the most comfortable summer dress, sprayed some summery perfume along with a bit of sunscreen, you know the afternoon sun. You are on your positive, bright side and you seem to love summer for the all the fruits it has to offer and all the water games that you are all set to play and for all those ice-creams stalls that you are going to flock at!

That said it all. Summer was defined that way! Before, long ago, a decade ago in Bengaluru.

What’s summer now?

Oh believe me, the sun is not bad, it is cruel! I have never offended him anyway possible for him to torture me, he is coming back at me and look at what my city has to pay for. My fault, I shouldn’t have called you cruel. You are the hottest thing ever and you are showing it off, way too much.

intolerable sun, summer, fried summer, Bengaluru

What is wrong with Bengaluru, people loved this city for it’s balance across the varied seasons. Summers are not too hot, winters are never freezing cold, spring is gay and happy , autumn is just wild and free. But the reputation is going to drains with the abrupt change of mind of my city. The schedule of the seasons are messed up, the degree of their presence is wildly out-of-control and what is it like today.

Burning under the 40 and 43 degrees of heat boiling our blood, dehydrating the fluids and tanning us, killing us!

We wake up frustrated because the previous night, the breeze was scare, we didn’t have a proper oxygen supply as the fans rotated in attempt to sing a lullaby and ended up feeding us our own breath, kinda gross but Bengaluru never wanted AC’s until the software giants made it mandatory even in winter. Were was I? Well, yeah ,it was about the way you start your day!

You start it with the sense of burning and sweating and sticking all over. The feel of exhaustion and lethargy is not the way we ought to wake up. It is then followed by the rush to work and sweat up there, burning your skin, you would just want a flood of ice-cold water in the city. The birds that were happily chirping seem to have vanished, more like dead. The nature is burning up with golden flames, scarcity of water leading to more deaths, oh a few more deaths sue to sun strokes, well, in came summer and along with it came the shadow of death along with load shedding and burnt brains.

bengaluru and summer, heated season

This ain’t summer! This is some cruel season. And we all know that it is because of us we are facing it today, global warming, green house affect and everything that you hear in debates are serious issues and are for real. Let’s take small steps and keep some water outside for the animals and birds, let’s plant a sapling and manage our wastes better. You don’t need to be god to solve these, be the person you are and not the person that the society makes you.

what can you do this summer to the nature,

It’s a long way to go in this venture, so far I have only kept water for the birds and did the division of waste but I think it’s time for the saplings as well. Let’s get our garden city back on wheels so that the generations to come by would exclaim with glee that “It’s Summer Again”

Happy Summer, Don’t get fried!

‘E’…#AtoZ Challenge

So the upcoming word in the challenge was ‘E’, I pondered on what topic I would write about.  my thoughts were rummaging through the vocabulary in my mind. As there was a power cut at my place yesterday night, I had quite some time to think over it. My mother kept a close eye on my lost senses.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked me with not much of interference. Probably she would have been fine even if I wouldn’t have answered ,but I don’t like her questions unanswered.

Mom, remember the word building games that I used to play. I always find ‘E’ to be the most complex alphabet to find words. I always used to lose points because of it” I explained, no, I much blabbered.

Well, you have… Engagement.” 

I gave out a sarcastic laugh, obviously with the talks of it very pertinent in my phase of life; it still helped for the word!

Mom, we do have emblem, engross, ephemeral, enigma, enthrall,

She was fast

Entertainment, enter, exit, ego, element,”

Exercise, engulf, exotic, entity,”

Encourage, economics, emphasis, establishment,

And the word game was fascinating after-ll, . It was the semi-darkness that was engulfing us with all it’s might while our enigmatic minds were so engrossed in listing out the words from the alphabet ‘E’. With the light so inclined towards the clock, each moment was enthralling. Later I was left to be alone, lost in my own thoughts

My train of thoughts often mulled over the enabling of symbolization of the four Asiatic lions in our emblem when I declared the word stopping the time. The Indian Emblem was a  symbolization to power, courage, pride and confidence; the four enriched words were the most coveted traits in me. I still long for them. Then the thoughts take a different route. The route to tone, not that I’m racist but I think the enormous sensation of being fair isn’t much needed. I wish if we were to see the beauty of the souls instead of the skin-tones, the whole emphasis of beauty would have been a lot different.

Brown and different shades of it, I assure you, gives the most exotic looks to a person. Hence the entry of a narcissist and hypocrite into their lives would be estimated to be a loss. Each person is beautiful and unique with their enchanting charms neatly wrapped in the societies most eyeing situations. It is at these times the esteemed lions play a role, looking into the exhaustive repetition of the long lost tradition of racism, we could entertain our own thoughts and be as esteemed as ever , for what is a life without a trace of ephemeral feelings that can make us laugh and cry, to stand in pride and to bow down in humbleness, entreating and engrossing, everything around you would make you feel beautiful if you were to feel it’s beauty.

AtoZ Challenge, beautiful, insights, thoughts, inspiration,word games, E

Well , a simple game of words brought the most deep rooted insights in me and am I still looking for a word that can enlist the “E” in them. Well, I had to rush to relish my dinner. And yes the simple thoughts were an engaging talk with myself. We all should often talk to ourselves, for deep inside us lies the most brilliant person and the silliest of the lot. You’ll get the honor to meet them both:)

Happy talks folks:) 


‘D’reams…#AtoZ Challenge

Dreams are as mysterious as life itself, on the context that it is over-whelming real life experience. People can dream about flying and falling, movies and monsters , horrors and hell and still go completely unaware about the granulating details of the most important dream. Some other dreams stay and repeat, sometimes filling you with a surge of energy and sometimes depriving you of the little possible peace in you.

Are the dreams that important to life? Wouldn’t our lives be better when our mind could actually slip into a semi-coma state with nothing but satisfaction of the long rest after a hectic play of emotions and physical strains that you have to endure.

Is it for the happy dreams that make us smile or is it for the frightening ones that warns us of an impending danger else is it for the pattern that you draw to know yourself. Still in a haze?

Do you know why we still dream?

Let me take you through figments of people and their lives!d2

A young boy, no more than four sits across the street in ragged clothes and an emaciated body but he smiles for he dreams.

A thirty year old lady, after having lost her hairs due to cancer but before that she had a beautiful family, a loving husband but all that she is left with is an estranged relationship and a rough fate yet smiles, for she dreams.

A sixty year old man, completely weak from all the diseases known to mankind, but his heart aches for a treatment from his family. He is alone on a torn sheet, succumbed to death in an Old-age Home yet now and then the nurse finds him smile in his sleep for he dreams too.

With all the problems and conundrums we endure through the day, the night comes as a knight with hopes, some gives us strength, some others warnings and something more the very source of energy to carry on.

The young boy smiles for he dreams of better living that he is adamant to achieve. He wants to live for a better tomorrow.

The lady with the cancer smiles for she just has heard of people getting cured of cancer, a hope to live and make a living of her own. With no strings attached. She wants to live for a better tomorrow.

The old man smiles for he dreams of the people around him as a family and he has realized that home is not a physical entity but  a place where he feels that he belongs there and the old-age home has given him a family of friends to share his feelings. He wants live for a better tomorrow.

And that is why we dream, for that single ray of hope that bestows from the darkest tunnel convincing of the brighter sun at the end of it.

We dream because we believe that tomorrow can be better.

We dream because we know what it is like to not have any dreams and we would better be dead rather not having to dream.

We dream to realize what we are and what we are supposed to do.

We dream to live in a bubble and smile about it.

We dream to forget it more often for they are not that necessary.

We dream to live another life in hundred different forms. 

We dream to know the answers to many forbidden questions.

We dream because that is a way for a new perception to be born.

We dream for it to come true.

We Dream to Live Again.


Happy Dreams:)


‘C’atastrophe…#AtoZ Challenge

A Memory:

Back in eight grade, this particular word “Catastrophe” seemed to be the most dreadfully long word. We had a lesson on Black Friday articulating the day’s event of the twin-building disaster that took place on September 11. It was a story of what a human mind is capable of doing, in the most precarious manners.

We were students horrified with gruesome happenings of the world. Keeping aside all the little discoveries , we were more horrified to hear a surprise test on the glossary of the particular chapter. We scavenged for the books hidden in the warm sockets of our bags, briskly turned over the pages and started to by-heart the meanings.

But then our teacher gave out a twist in the surprise test. She announced that she would give the meaning a word and we had answer the question word . Well it wasn’t logical (at least for us, back then) for we were good with the meanings and the words seemed too long and complex to have a proper pronunciation. 

We were still memorizing the contents, when our teacher with a sleek stick tapped on the desk and called upon my name.

“Yes you, tell me the word for ‘An event causing great and usually sudden damage or suffering’.” and that was indeed a sudden disaster to me. I was to be asked according to my registration number and I ended being called first instead of twelve. Like a lion sure of it’s prey, she rounded me tapping the slender stick on my table making me fear for that beating( The stick was only for keeping the class calm, now I think about it, no , my school actually never beat people)

I took breath and blurted “Catastrophey” ; yes the pronunciation was my fault and what I call as my luck, is the fact that, among-st those fifteen glossary words, I knew only the one I was questioned for. It might be a stroke of luck but it got etched in my brain so effortlessly that it started a new craving for more complex words in me, of-course with almost proper pronunciation, I started learning them, loving English a bit more than ever.

Hence what might pass on as a catastrophe might many a times come handy to reach our new horizons, to face new challenges and to have a broader perspective. Albeit it was just a childhood snippet but it had an immense impact on the way I look to things and the way I embrace them into my lifecatastrophe, #AtoZ Challenge

Now that I think about all those catastrophes around the world, some intended, some others , a work of nature. They all get destroyed at one point of the time phase. But what matters is how high they stood, be it the humans or the non-living structures, in their worth of staying on this earth. If nature works can’t be denied or prevented with the limited knowledge of technology and over-use of the same technology to the destruction, then I might well say , we should be more prepared for the world’s sudden disasters to fall upon us.

I hope we could minimize the damage, be more human and understand the environment we are in to have a better future, a better living and to leave behind a healthy world for the generations to come.

Happy thoughts:)