Tuesday, December 28


It was her fault that lead to end of their relationship. She could not fight for him; she had to stand opposite and defend someone else who was more important. Raji could not contain herself when Nitesh called her a back stabber. She could not find a reason for it. She asked, but all she got was anger, hatred and nasty sarcasm from him. She tried to reason but it fell on deaf ears.

It was all a part of the joke being carried forward from one person to the other. Why was it that difficult to understand? One person got fired earlier and now it’s me, but I never wanted to lose you. Nitesh didn’t know about Aseem and his presence in Raji’s life that why he blasted her using offensive words, which were unbearable for any husband. Aseem was protecting Raji, and so was Raji.

How can love get nasty? Why can’t it just be contained as a good feeling? She lost Nitesh, forever, when she wanted to hold him and tell him that she is sorry for the miscommunication. She could not. When she needed her best friend to remain, he went. Aseem felt her pain and stepped forward to apologize to Nitesh, but she could not let her husband down in front of her friend. She fought for him after all. She had to choose and she chose Aseem.

Raji was in pain, and there was none to share it. Her husband used to be her friend once upon a time, now it was difficult for her to talk even to him. She wanted to hold Aseem and cry at her loss but she was not sure if he would understand her dilemma. She thought it might create trouble in her relation so she contained it. How she wished that the events in the past two days could be undone.

But alas! She had chosen to burn it at her own will. Phoenix’s are imaginary.

Thursday, December 23

Night Crawler

It’s a night crawler
That creeps into the darkness
It’s so evil
The happiness goes numb
within its vicinity
the smile vanishes
under its shadows.
It’s dark, it’s evil,
It’s the night crawler.
It moves into the souls
It fills us with hatred
It creates sans love all around
It’s bad, it’s devil,
It is The Night Crawler
I am the night crawler
The hatred around
The malice within all
the abuses, the pain

Lessons learnt

You know what – I’ve been weird and never satisfied with what I had. Its one confession that I have never even offered to myself earlier, but I guess it’s high time I need to learn to appreciate what I have. I have experimented too much with my emotions, making them go through the most extreme forms of tortures one can imagine. May be it has been because of my troubled childhood (staying away from home when I needed them the most) that lead me to become a pest or a nuisance.

I was never serious about anyone, anything, or any emotions. Probably I never understood them or maybe I was scared to acknowledge them. I had always felt the sense of betrayal growing in me saying that if I am not happy why others have the right to be. I would hurt everyone around me just to vent out my hatred. I knew there were people who loved me sincerely, without asking for anything in return, but I guess there is a limit to people’s patience. I had hurt them enough – so I could ask for no friends, no companions, and no one for my own.

Truly, there are very few people I have sincerely had feelings for. I had relations with people either based on respect or love. Respect failed and one lost it all. Love lost – I don’t know what was lost but something grew and it was indifference. I had never been satisfied with people loving me and I had always asked for their undivided attention – something more than I could handle or deserved. I know now that it is not fair to ask for something that you don’t give them.

I have come to understand the essence of happiness, it is not about having everything you want but it lies in the small tiny details of love, beauty, competence, togetherness, communication, sweet nothings, hopeless fights, meaningless whispers, gibberish sentences, smiles, tears, sarcasm, apprehensions, expectations, and everything else included in a package rather than being greedy only for attention. I suppose, I have understood what Tirth (my best friend) used to tell me, “Be exclusive to someone.”

Nostalgia – My First Trip to Juhu

I guess you have been waiting for long for this particular post to appear – Hima George.  To introduce you to other readers – She is my younger sister by Rakhi, yes she used to tie Rakhi to me in college. She has been one of the most innocent people I have come across in my life.

My first couple of months in Mumbai was rather adventurous, as I was new to the place and a little scared of venturing out after coming from Delhi. I got to understand Mumbai and its safety as I started to venture out to places, sometimes alone or with my cousin. Later, my cousin left me to roam around the city alone so that I get a hang of the place.

By the time I had joined college, it was almost a month of me staying in the city and I had been to most of the places and also I had a couple of friends who I could go with. However, Juhu was one place where I had not been and I wanted to see a beach. So, I and Hima decided to go to Juhu after our shopping spree in Bandra. Hima said that she was well acquainted with the place as she frequented Mumbai due to her relatives.

We reached Banrda and by the time we were done with our shopping, it had started to pour, but we were hell bent on going to Juhu. We took an auto to Juhu, reached, went into the sea, soaked ourselves, and did almost everything one can do to enjoy themselves. The real adventure was yet to come. We started roaming around the beach to figure out the way to get back on the main road.

Hima told me that there is walkable shortcut to Santa Cruz bus depot from where we can get a direct bus for Navi Mumbai. So, we started walking to find that shortcut. We almost walked for quarter to an hour to reach a Ganv, where we were the only two girls fully clothed. It was sort a red light area and people were staring at us as if they would eat us alive. I got very scared and asked Hima whether we are on the correct track. She looked at me and burst out crying.

Two teen girls had lost their way and were stuck in a hooker’s zone with men all around staring strangely. We scared to ask direction to anyone as we thought they might mislead us, so I asked Hima to calm down and continue walking. I would praise about myself that my sense of directions was brilliant and I never used to forget my way even if I have went through it only once. So we walked around that area for one hour drenched to the core and in midst of finding a dead end, walking around same street twice because of that, finding women in the most outrageous of outfits, bearing glares of both sexes, and what not.

Finally, in we could see a tall building just behind the wall of a house on that area. I was keeping my fingers crossed that God please there be a direct road to reach that building and lo we were there. I could not believe that we were again on the main road where there was life surging and people were humane. I was unable to bear the contrast of the two places separated just by a small street and not even a wall. I could not bear the overwhelming chocking feeling of coming back to safety from such a dreadful place that I sat down on the road.

I was crying; however, it was raining so much that none noticed that. Seeing me sit on the road, a sardar taxiwala stopped by to ask Hima if I was unwell and needed to reach somewhere. I stood up, still scared to ask for help, but then I realized that this is the real Mumbai where people really help you if they feel you are in some sort of trouble. I asked him, where were we and he understood that we were lost in that particular area. He asked us where we had to go and he finally dropped us to Santa Cruz depot.

We had walked over 13 kilometers in that daze and were shaken so much that I don’t still remember our conversation after we got into the bus. That was the first and the last time I was scared in Mumbai.

With Hima, I have much more interesting incidents which will have to wait for some more days. Miss you darling, a lot.

Saturday, December 4

Missing You

My heart is popping out some unbelievable emotions for me to understand as of now. It’s 5:10 in the morning and I have not yet slept. Sleep is miles away from me. Not sure how to explain these unexpected chills running throughout my body, shaking me and awaking me to reality that I miss you. A feeling this strong has come to me after this long and I find it damn difficult to shake it off.

I hear your husky voice close to my ears, whispering my name and telling me that I’m beautiful. I sense your smell around me, your aura spreads and encapsulates me within. The gentle playfulness of your fingers in my hair, the way you made me laugh – I miss my laughter some days, the way you played with my fingers, and I miss you being around me always.

I don’t believe in “Lived happily forever afters” and so I want to have you in person, with me and for me, NOW. If time could be played with, I would shift it to be with you and pause it there. Why is there pain with all the good and bad feelings both? Let one part be free of it. Love relates to pain, break-up relates to pain, distance relates to pain, missing you relates to pain, fighting with you relates to pain, why every damned emotion is related with pain.

I miss those few lazy and gentle moments spent with you, lying beside each other and not speaking even a single word. But then, the silences meant a lot of things to us. I wish I could ever tell you what you mean to me. It’s not only a ‘deal’ that I’m living, but a life that will be always be incomplete without you. I wish you knew how much I miss you. I wish I could tell you, how much I miss you.

Dead Man in the Train

The rain was delayed by five hours as usual. The trains are running late in Mamta’s regime so even we were sure that I won’t be boarding it before midnight. So as per my premonition, I boarded at 12:30 am. Again something common about the trains is that if there is no one on your seat, others occupy it as per their whims and fancy. It’s so awkward to wake them up so late in the night. Having no other choice, I had to wake the uncle up from my berth.

My luggage shifting and talking to my family and people who came to see me off woke the people around me, but there was this man on the passage seat sleeping unperturbed. I saw the man’s pants were wet near the waist area and he was sleeping facing the window. He didn’t even budge at so much of commotion, so I thought he might be in his drunken stupor. I don’t have the habit of sleeping at night while traveling; probably my brain believes that most of the thefts occur during night, so I guard my stuff.

The man’s phone kept on ringing for the whole night, which he didn’t pick. I was surprised at the fact that he didn’t even change position while sleeping for over five hours that I was awake. Finally, at 6:00 am I went to sleep after waking my dad up. The man’s phone was still ringing. The other women in the nearby birth said that the man had to get down in the next station but he was still sleeping. The continuous ringing of his phone now made people a little scared that something might be wrong.

We called the Ticket Checker and told him about our suspicions. The TTE called the attendant and asked them to wake the man. They tried with all their might but still the man didn’t budge. While they shook him on the shoulders, his whole body used to shake as if he was frozen. The TTE got scared as he realized that the man was already dead and he fled from the scene instead of calling the cops and the doctors to remove the body and inform his family.

Later, the other people in the compartment informed the police and it took those people over two hours to get a doctor and remove the body from the seat. The man was dead for over 8 hours then and his body had iced up due to rigor mortis. The police let us know after verification that the man was 28 years old, recently married and he was a part of the armed forces located in the north-east of India.

It was after the body had been removed that we realized that we had spent our whole night beside a dead body.

Monday, November 8

Nothing in particular

Nothing in particular has caught my attention from quite some time and that makes the point that I have got nothing in particular to write about. I had been keeping a lot busy with Diwali, its preparations and the guests pouring after that. To be frank, the guests in my part of the country are persistent and one can’t get rid of them in any condition. They were just a little higher in number due to Diwali. The motivationally challenged (read LAZY) I found it really hard to attend to the guests. I like the preparations for festivals though. So, this post is to celebrate my laziness and just to tell you all that I don’t have any new topic to talk about and for the first time my head is absolutely blank. My guess is that my head creating a masterpiece and that’s why it’s blank. Laters then.

Tuesday, October 26

It's My Life

Please do not comment on this one.

I’m so confused about certain things in life – the facts that I thought were solved for life. Why am I being forced to do a certain thing? Decisions were never imposed on me earlier. It was I, who used to take all the decisions of my life and of family at times. Helpless is what I’m feeling right now.

I know, it’s just the place and time that’s making my head go bonkers, but my problem is not that – my problem is that why are people overrating me? I might have been born a genius but I’ve lost it now. The intelligence is ruined. Thanks to me ruining myself bit by bit.

I know this is the same ‘Richa Vani’ who read out a newspaper when she was merely 11 months old, but times have changed. Life has changed – I have. The most essential thing that is lost in this time frame is my trust in myself. When I believed that I write well and people used to show that much of confidence in me – I felt proud. However, these days I don’t have the trust in myself that I’m good even when some of the best people in their respective fields compliment my work.

I shy away from presenting my work and myself. If something could help, but the lack of trust would not even help ‘help’. I’m not certain about anything, any work, anyone. My ego has gone down to the abysmal depth of darkness and it does seem able to find its way up to light again. There is nothing but hopelessness left – or that’s what I’m able to see.

Escape is what I seek every time and from everything. I’m scared to take decisions. I’m scared to answer anything. When they say that I need someone to take care of me, it scares me all the more. I don’t want to be dependent on anyone for anything, and this fear is making me all the more vulnerable. I don’t know what I will do the next minute.

I used to believe that my lachrymal glands are defunct as tears would not come even at someone’s death. These days they roll out at the slightest provocation, sometimes even without provocation. The onetime fav quote, “It’s my life – I’ll do what I want to”, has lost its meaning and has turned out to be the biggest disaster of life. It is a tight slap on my face and a failure to be remembered every minute. The best of compliments I receive these days have lost their conviction for me and I’ve lost myself.

If there was a way to gain back my confidence, conviction and trust in myself – I don’t even have the strength to find that.

The Weird Thief

It’s a pretty old story from my good-old hostel days and still brings a smile on my face.

It was a rainy night and was near the start of our summer vacations. Almost, whole of the dormitory was empty and of the seventy girls in the dorm, only nine of us were remaining. That’s why our teachers allowed us to watch a late night movie, Nagin, on Doordarshan television. We came in late from our TV hall and were planning to spend some time talking to each other as we would again meet after good-long two months. Apparently spending time could not happen as we were too tired after the long day, so we all went in to sleep. One of our dorm-mates went in other hall to sleep, hence only eight of us were remaining.

Probably the thief knew about this before venturing into our hostel. We assumed him to be from the surrounding areas, as he was well acquainted with the hostel premises. We also assumed that he might have entered before we had returned from our movie as he had planned everything well in advance. I describe the “our assumed” way the thief might have entered our dorm.

The thief took advantage of the rain and broke in through the bamboo fence surrounding the girl’s hostel. Since, we all had gone to sleep, the hostel was eerily silent and the cherry on top was that there was no electricity in the area due to heavy rains. He broke the glass pan of the dorm window and removed one loose rod from it. To his luck, bed near the window was empty, which made it all the more easy for him to crawl inside.

Our dorm had double-decker beds and since we were only eight of us left so we planned to sleep in pairs close by. The rolled bedrolls on these beds were giving all the more eerie look in the dark. The thief moved about in the hall looking out for things he could lay his hands on. Apparently what he was seeking was food. He came across a bed where there was a half-eaten packet of biscuit kept over a packed trunk along with a half-eaten packet of snacks. The thief settled himself down there and started savoring the leftover food. He then left a Rs.10 note near the empty packets as the bill perhaps.

He started to survey the room in darkness after finishing his so-called meal. He opened the door and kept it ajar so that it facilitates in his running away, if that’s the case. He started to have a feel of the girls sleeping. All of a sudden a sharp female voice rang in the long near-empty hall, shouting in assamese, “Nigoni dhorilu, nigoni dhorilu, muk kunubae mesh diya candel zolaboloe (I caught a rat, I caught a rat, give me a matchbox to light a candle)”.

I looked down as mine was the bed immediately above Plabita’s, the girls who shouted for match, and saw the thief caught somewhere in the mosquito net struggling to free his hands. In the meanwhile, Plabita got out of her delirium and in shock, she let go of his hands. She yelled again, “Thief, thief…” The thief got alarmed and ran away from the same route he had come from and we could not do anything except making a huge hue and cry.

Friday, October 22

Differences and Diversity

A friend of mine, Ganesh Maharana, raised a question in his blog “when can we be able to FULLY accept differences and diversity?” Thanks Gannu for writing on a topic that actually stimulated my brain to write something.

To be able to write on this topic, I thought of answering this question myself. I mean, I wanted to personally know if I was completely secular and am I able to accept the differences we have in our varied culture. I came to realize that I was not. I am so biased towards my religion and my lifestyle – no I don’t think that my religion is superior or anything. I still believe that God is one and Omnipresent. I have trouble with their lifestyle. Probably, it’s because I have been inculcated with certain set of norms and I’m not ready to be able to question them.

So, my level of tolerance for their religion is high but their customs, it’s not. It does not bother me that a certain Ram Mandir was broken down to construct a certain Mosque and neither does the bringing down of the same Mosque bother me. What bothers me is the number of people being killed using these topics as Political issues. I do not have any problems with a Muslim sitting beside me and eating beef even when I’m a Hindu Brahmin and cow is sacred to me. But yes, I will be hesitant to share my plate of even a vegetarian meal with the same Muslim. This is not only about Muslims that I’m against, but it’s with every other person who shares a separate set of lifestyle than mine.

When I found this answer, I wondered, are we actually proud of unity in diversity or we just use it to lure people to our country and increase tourism. But I guess differences are something that I can cope with. Some 6-7 years back, I came across an NGO in Delhi that worked for the trans-genders. I worked with for a few days and found out that there they had organized a photo show about their life through their eyes. I as a journalist was to cover the event. I went to the most dreaded place in Delhi - Yamuna Pushta (don’t still understand why people are scared of that place). I found them to very sweet people who are good at heart, but are tormented just because they look different.

When I returned back to Mumbai, I showed the project to my Professor and we were discussing on their life and the troubles they face at their work places, etc. One of my classmates stood up and said as matter of factly, that these bloody uneducated bastards are a pain to the society and should be killed. I got so aggressive at the statement that I actually yelled back at her and asked, “Tell me if you would let a Tran-Gender sit beside you in this class without tormenting them. She mellowed down and replied negative. I simply said that if people like us are not ready to accept them and give them education then we don’t have the right to call them names and comment on the way they live.

So, yet I’m unsure on my stand on this particular topic but I sincerely wish I could take a stand for the acceptance of diversity. When will the day come that we will feel proud and not lie about “Unity in Diversity”.

Friday, October 8

Your Heart

This poem is based on a statement “I wish to reach your heart”, told by someone to me. So I dedicate this poem to you “my inspiration”. How I wish I could link you here, but I can’t.

Your heart is where I wish to reach
You seem so close
I can touch you in my dreams
But your heart is so far
It seems like the horizon
More I walk towards it
More distant it seems
Your heart seems unfathomable
I wish to see its depth
I wish to listen to its waves
I wish to listen to its woes
I wish to listen to its smile
I wish to listen to its stories

Your heart is where I wish to reach
Does it have an other side that you wish to hide?
Is it pain that you hide?
Are you scared to show your love?
I’ve all the love for you
Come to me my love
Your heart is where I wish to reach
To erase all the pain you bore
I believe, I can fill your heart with my love
I wish to release you of you hold back
Why do you keep me at bay?
I keep colliding with the wall around your heart
What you hold back are – ghosts of past
I can show you a new world of love
But let through those barriers
- Shed the secrets
- Shed the inhibitions
This is no play my love,
I promise, no heartbreaks,
I promise, no pain
I promise, an everlasting smile
Only, your heart is where I wish to reach

Monday, October 4


Every human emotion, I believe, comes contradictory to the situation. Probably I’m justifying a quote I heard as a child. Here it goes:

“As a rule man is fool
When it is hot he wants cool
When it is cool he wants hot
And always wants what is not”

People always dream of a life that is contradictory to their present state of life or lifestyle. A man working under extreme pressure craves for life with leisure for himself and vice-versa. Why is it that we always aspire for things that are out of our reach? We work so hard to retain something or someone who we think might be taken away or go away on its own accord, but as soon as we feel it is secure our aspirations change.

This could be one of the reasons for the breaking of so many love marriages. Our mindset is designed not to be satiated with any achievement but in want of certain things aren’t we turning ourselves into workaholics? To protect our positions in society, jobs, or people we love – we tend to go down to the menial levels of humanity.

We are becoming similar to the people we actually dislike. We tend to take part in the social gossip just to let them know that we are updated about others lives, when in reality we are least bothered. We develop crab mentality just to drag people to our level of understanding and do not allow them to do anything new or creative.

Was that a part of aspiration when we started? No, we were idealists, decided to create a life on own norms and terms. We wanted to bring about a change on the society but eventually we gave up healthy fighting and started to walk on the common way. We yell around and rant about peace in every politico-economic, but the thirst for power has given birth to terrorism, mass killings, wars, and what not.

I’ve heard many people saying that stagnation is death, but we can also say that stagnation is satisfaction. I’m not advocating that we should stop growing. I’m only saying that growth should be for development and healthy competition. Why do we forget that life is a game of chess, and we need to think new moves to win every time? Old moves are rusted and rotten, and almost everyone knows them. So, be innovative to fight for your aspirations or satisfaction, both ways.

Thursday, September 23


Right now, when I’m writing a serious note on religion then I am being distracted by the most beautiful and selfless person in this world. She sits beside me and laughs - laughter full of mirth and joy and fun. She sings playfully in her own language. It’s such an amazing experience seeing hide behind your back and play Peek-a-Boo. I never knew it could be so much fun. Life has taken a completely new turn after a met her and never believed that a not even two year old kid can change you so much.

Puchkan wearing my Dad's shirt..

Yes, I’m introducing my “adopted” niece Puchkan. Well, she has changed everything that I could think myself to be. I was always friendly with kids of age group 5 to 15 but infants and little kids were never my cup of tea. I never could handle them. They would never come to me in one attempt and I would not even press any further. With her, I learnt patience is the key to handle kids, not only kids but everything else.

She runs around in the house yelling, laughing and doing all acts that we probably can’t even think of. Her language is a mix of two, mine (Hindi) and hers (Adivashi), so she talks in an altogether new lingo. My father, whom she is most attached to, is her father, grandfather, uncle, doctor sahib (dapat sahib), Lalan sahib (naman sahib), and what not. I’m her phuphu and bannu both.

She has taught me to feed her, make her go to sleep, sing for her (and for the first time in my life I am singing well and remembering the lyrics as well), and do everything possible for her under the sun. She repeats everything that I, mom or dad speaks. She will do puja with me and dad, blow the shankh, and chant mantras. Her mantras are awesomely innovative, such as; “Om Bhut aya”, “Om Sunita (her Mom) mara”, “Om Atul (her Father) mara”, and many more.

Well, this write-up can go on for pages if I continue writing. So, I will end it up by writing that she is the best teacher for I’ve got. I love her and she loves me back. Her selfless love and her puppy eyes make me feel so many emotions that I never knew I had until they came. Thanks Puchkan.

Thursday, September 16

Continual changes

Things have changed so much after coming back to home. I’ve observed a lot of changes in me and my behavior – the transition from aggressive me to a mellowed down me. I have probably grown up.

The other day a friend of mine, my classmate in school and is now a mother of two kids, invited me to her house for Gayatri Puja. Considering the fact that I would get bored among the elderly women, I went a little late that is towards the end of it. There, I started to help my friend in giving away tea and snacks to the ladies. I greeted everyone, as at small places you usually know every other person.

All of a sudden, an aunty (a better introduction would my Mathematics teachers wife and mother of another classmate of mine, Jyoti) yelled on top of her voice and ensuring every single soul present at the occasion hears it, “Richa tum itni badi ho gayi hai (Richa, has your stature increased that much)?” I was shell-shocked, stunned, bowled over. Dude, I simply greeted her and given her a cup of teas, and how is that related to my being anything. Was that a crime? Within a second my brain scanned on almost all the possibilities for that comment. I was still gaping at her when she added, “Tum Jyoti ko bulane ka message message bheji thi, ek call nahi kar sakti thi kya (You could have ringed Jyoti instead of sending her a message)?”

Another shock, when did I sent a message? I simply asked, “Kaun sa message (which message)?” She started ranting in her ever rising voice, “B.K.Singh ki misses boli kit tum Jyoti ko bulayi hai. Jab se Jyoti ayi hai tab se uska tabiyat kharab hai aur who ghar se bahar bhi nahi nikli hai…Blah…Blah… (Mrs. B.K.Singh said that you had called Jyoti home. Since the time she has come back, she is not keeping well and has not stepped out of the house…)” I barged in, “Aunty, pehla to mujhe malum nahi tha ki Jyoti ayi hui hai aur dusra maine koi message nahi bhijwaya tha kisi se (Aunty, firstly I never knew Jyoti has also come and secondly I never sent any message from anyone).” On that, she continued her sing-song about her daughter and her bad health.

My mom was with me but was sitting in the far corner busy in conversation with someone else. So she missed the first half of this controversial discussion. She started to ask me about what happened. I simply told her nothing much as she already sounded pissed at her sing-song with me too being a part of the subject. If not done that way, she would turned Seema’s house into a battle ground for Jyoti’s mother cribbing anything about me and the other woman is sort of a fight monger. Of course, my Mom is possessive about me, I’m her first born.

As a matter of fact, I was surprised at my response there – calm and calculated. The matter could have worsened and lead to a huge fight if I would have said anything on the nastier side. For the first time in my life, I really responded to a situation instead of reacting to it. If this should have happened some years back, I would have humiliated that woman by blurting out some not so good remarks. That reaction would have shut her trap but probably later other women would have snickered about it behind my mom’s back for my rude behavior.

I realized that I’ve mellowed down a lot, learnt calm after so many adventurous happenings in my life. The sea finally learnt that despite all the power she possesses, she can’t break the shore – she has to come back. I have not given up fighting at all, but have learnt how to strategize and hit back.

Tuesday, September 14

Sounds That Follow Trails Of Unspoken Thoughts…


Just thinking…nothing specific…they are a series of itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny thoughts…just correlated to each other in some or the other way…but the start and the end are absolutely different…the threads are entwined to each other in a simple yet complex way…they are beautiful…they are just there with you forever in your sub-conscious mind…

I am lying on my bed and trying really hard to get some sleep, but I am insomniac and it is really difficult to drift into slumber for me until dawn breaks. I can hear the cars moving on the road, buses honking at the occasional cyclewalas appearing on the road, local trains coming and going from the nearest railway station, the dogs barking outside, the sound of water leaking from the tap in the kitchen sink, the buzzing of occasional mosquitoes near my ears, the rotation of fan over my head.

Of all the sounds, the moving train catches hold of my attention. The sound makes me waver into the realms of thoughts that very rarely surface up. Train for me is always associated with long journeys, traveling to known and unknown places. Destinations never made much of a sense. They just exist for the sake of existence, probably just to make me realize how far I have traveled. Trains are pieces of parts of my heart put together like a jigsaw puzzle. The pieces (every bit of journey done) are related to each other with dividing lines prominently visible.

Journey can be so much fun with seeing new places and meeting new people. I met a friend of mine in train to Guwahati. I am pretty lucky with friends they actually spin the thread of your life and make it worthwhile, but all my friends, these days, stay out and we rarely get chance to meet each other. I spoke to few of my friends (blog link) some months back and it was an amazing experience. Probably the advent of mobile phones has reduced distances but does the feeling of being close with your friends helped by calling them. I miss their presence at times, some worthwhile friends they were. Well too many things running in my head so I think I should conclude it here.

Tuesday, September 7


My pores feel every bit of helplessness
I go through
I will not yell
I will not call for help
You will never understand
Everything is an illusion
Maybe even help is.
The feeling is strong but
I can’t hold on to it.

Aggression runs in the back of my mind
Reason me if it should not.
I can’t feign smile always.
But I see the ghost of helplessness
Haunting me
Everywhere I move across
I don’t need you to make me smile
I will shun you.
I will not let you understand.

Tuesday, August 31


I see a dragonfly hover over the dry twigs in my backyard. The twigs fallen from the small shrub that will shed its leaves with the advent of winter (which is not very far now in the north-eastern part of India). The dragonfly finds a suitable place to settle down. Its glossy brown wings match the exact color of the background of earth and twigs to camouflage its body and to save it from being eaten by the possible predators.

There are also a few butterflies fluttering amidst the flowers – mostly in duos, probably it’s their breeding season. They appear in so many brilliant hues of black, blue, yellow, white and what not. The butterflies hang around each other to appeal their mates and seek a chance of union with them. The planet grows and this is the season of growth. There is love in the air and beauty lies at the horizon for everyone to admire.

New leaves are sprouting on the mango trees in my yard. Their pinkish-greenish hue imparts such an incredible look. The retreating rains are the season of growth and reproduction for almost all plants and animals. The environment is abuzz with life and beauty. Even death is beautiful, sometimes. The fading yellow leaves in another plant contrast well with the blossoming soft new petals and leaves.

The nullah (rivulet) behind my house shows the transforming clouds on the blue background. Gaze at the shifting shapes and you will feel a sense of motion inside you. They drift your soul off to a new and splendid world altogether. There are many shapes created and smudged in minutes by the almighty wind.

I come back to reality and look for the dragonfly, but it is gone. Perhaps, it has found its mate and has gone to create a new universe for them.

I’m blessed with the leisure of being able to observe them, appreciate them and love them. The leisure to even have a glance at them is rare. I’m lucky.

Rain drops

I see the rain drops
From my windows
They fall on the open petals
The lips hold them and mine
The drops fall on my heart
As first drops on mud
The feel is refreshing
It’s blissful to bathe in rain
Each drop heals the pain
The flowers are cheerful
My lips are quenched
I see the rain drops smile

Wednesday, August 25


Bliss to me is your beautiful smile,
Smile that reaches your eyes and my heart
My heart elates with warmth of your smile
The brown eyes mesmerize me
Hypnotize me, tie me to you
I think of them with every beat of my heart.
They keep watching me wherever I go
The honey of eyes flow to my heart
Sweetens my life and love.

Tuesday, August 24


I’m scared. For the first time in my life I’m seeking approval. I do not fear rejection here, as I know she liked me. As a matter of fact, that is what is making me all the more nervous.

I was scared to death and was shaking in anticipation during our first meeting. I had been told that she is very strict. I immediately recognized her despite the fact that I had never seen her before, save in the 20-25 year old photograph. Her presence made me relax. She oozed warmth and calm. She was so sweet and motherly. She was scrutinizing me, of course, but her way of questioning me never made me feel awkward. I liked her in the very minute, however was unable to figure out if she liked me or approved of me. Later on, I came to know that she liked me.

Now, when the real test for everything begins, I’m scared again. I do not want her to dislike me, my work, me as a person or anything for that matter. It will not be good start for us and our relationship. I want her to approve of me and then modify, teach me, train me. I know that I need to improve and learn if that begins with a sense of dislike then it is not the sign of a healthy relationship.

I seek to understand and get to learn at least something from the vast knowledge she has. She would be the best teacher I ever had – if she agrees to take me as her student and her daughter. I want to earn it. I want to make things good – for a better life. I want it to work. I will be extremely lucky to have her blessings and her presence in my life.

God bless me please.

Thursday, August 12

Marriage Gyaan

Well, marriage is an interesting topic of discussion for people in India. It is considered to be the most essential part of Hindu life aka “Grihasta Dharma”. It is one of the ways, following which a person opens the gates of heaven for himself. A girl of marriageable age is the matter of concern not only for the family but for the idle relatives and family friends as well. Even if the parents do not want the girl to get married so soon (at the age of 22-23) relatives will coax them to hell and will ask them to find a suitable groom for the girl as she won’t get any good guys if she gets older.

A few points/Gyaan that I have been preached about marriage (as I’m so anti-marriage for me) are:

  • It is the conjugation of two souls and is made by God himself (as if He does not have anything else to do-Please ask Him to stop terrorism instead of making matrimonial matches).
  • Your life partner creates ways for you for a better life for both of you (I never understood this point though, so, kindly do not ask what it means).
  • You will remain alone for the whole of life and there will not be anyone to take care of you in adverse situations.
  • People mentioned this point very subtly – So I’m putting it their way with my explanation included. After a certain point in time, people start to feel alone and they start to feel the need (Carnal desires taking over your sense of morality) of a partner in their life.
  • It is a legal way to bear children and continue your generation.

Ok. Now that I do not see myself prepared for marriage anywhere in near future, I do not understand the reason why my family keeps pestering (no offence) me for the same. As per me, marriage is a very sacred institution and people should step into it with complete sense of responsibility. It should not be done under any moral obligations or pressure or emotional blackmail or any other similar stupid reasoning. I call them stupid, as they do not seem correct according to any parameters.

Forget that, I wanted to say that I do not intend to become an exhibition sample for anybody to come scrutinize me, saying that I’m dark, I’m too tall for the guy, I have a tattoo, I’ll have to work after marriage (compulsorily; I mean it’s my life and I should have the right to decide if I intend to work or not), and many more reasons. They will come have a look, talk for some time, leave and then will reject me for all Godforsaken reasons. The reason will not even make sense. Moreover, I would be rejected because even if the guy looks like BS, they would want a milky white girl with average features and she should be working. What the hell do they want, a robot?

Well, I’m not against the institution, but I believe it’s a little too early for me. I even don’t know whether I believe in arrange marriages or not and I’ve my set of reasons for that. Let’s hope by the time this showcasing of me gets over, I probably am prepared to get married and live happily ever after.