New girl in the city

There are two reasons why I start writing this extravagantly, unusually happy post- the first one being that it was my birthday day before yesterday and I learned something very precious and the second being the pleasure of being the new girl in the city. As I head writing, I’d like to mention that my Bangalore stories are not going to be about the traffic toll or population or the hatred I have towards autos for the number of times I’ve been fooled by them. It has a tinge of the experiences on a personal level. I hope this captures your interest till the very end.

July 8th, 2016 Friday:
I first stepped in Bangalore, not to deny the fact that the city seemed pleasant since the very beginning. Apart from the incident just outside the railway station, where I was fascinated looking at something that closely resembled Kurkure, looked keenly only to spot an eye and realize that it was dried tiny fishes. May be I was more excited to be the “new girl in the city” like Aisha in ‘Wake up Sid’. Since the time I have seen that movie, I wished to write such an article. Well, that’s weird but that’s how it is. I love the way she expressed everything about Mumbai and I wanted to do the same. Long before I had left Ahmedabad, I started envisaging myself in a new city where I’d be independent on a whole another level, and the amount of personal development it would impart just like Ahmedabad did.
So the initial days of finding a place to live in were hell. I wondered how I would survive here but there were two gentle souls who helped me to a great extent in all the difficulties that I faced. One was my dad’s childhood friend and another one was a far off relative- I call my savior and my lifeline in Bangalore. It’s so strange that I had never met these people and still they were doing so much for me. Coming to railway station to pick us up at 3 am and roaming around for about 2 days searching for a place to live without getting irritated was definitely something appreciable. College was fun as expected and I didn’t take much time to seep in. The faculty is amazing but you know what the sad part is, when you’re in your comfort zone and there is not much to worry about, there is less to learn. Moving on to the next phase, as Bangalore is a metropolitan; I met a variety of people coming from different regions of India. I recalled the time when I had difficulty in coping up with Gujarati while my stay in Ahmedabad. I used to feel abandoned and got irritated often hearing a language that was difficult to interpret. And now, I had to deal with Telugu, Tamil, Kannada, Malayalam, Assamese and Bengali all at once. For a person who can relate, knows that it was too much to handle at one go. Surprisingly, I saw myself evolving like a butterfly comes out from a cocoon. I started appreciating the diversity. Four people, four languages sharing one room. Never ever I had seen myself interacting with people so much be it in college or at residence.  As I started learning more about them, I realized each one of us had our own story and a handful of goals to achieve. What brought us closer was the fact that we were all miles away from home, in the streets of Bangalore figuring out ways to deal with the routine problems we faced; like a young one of a bird- hastily shaking its wings to try to learn to fly. We all came with our own bags of dreams and a hope to achieve higher in life.

July 10th, 2016 Sunday:
This was the most abnormal part. While children in hostel wish their parents had stayed longer, I partly wished for their departure. Okay, don’t get me wrong here but the real reason was that since months, I had been waiting for this moment, the moment when I’d be out of my comfort zone. I went along with one of my guardians to drop them. Goodbyes are never easy, even when they are just for a while. I could see my mom crying inside and my Dad scared to leave me in the new city; so far off from home. To all the parents who leave their kids out station so that they can fly and achieve what they wish for, nobody has a heart braver than yours and nobody has their trust so firm. Thank you so much.  After the train departed, we left for our respective destinations. Honestly, the moment mom dad left, I wanted to step back into my comfort zone. I wanted them to stay. I wanted mom to hug me one more time but it was impossible now. Therefore, I just played safe and prayed to God to save me from a horrifying, lonely, Sunday afternoon. My place was supposedly just half an hour ride from the station but neither of us knew the way. Hence, we kept on roaming around for five hours. My prayer was answered, I suppose. This was the first time we began knowing each other. I thought he’d be that nasty guardian who would keep an eye, but there he was- one of the coolest people I had met off late. I found my first friend in him that day, a friend who just made me fall in love with the place all the more, a friend whose mere presence was so comforting, and a friend who never let me feel that I was alone. As it was too late while we reached, we decided to go out for lunch together and delay it all the more. I had already received about 20 calls from home enquiring if I had reached. They were worried and scared and even I was supposed to feel the same but fortunately, the vibe of the person sitting next to me was just too comforting. Gradually over the days, the call frequency decreased as I began settling down like the dust after a storm.

July 17th, 2016 Sunday:
A week had gone by without much chaos or struggle but here was the big deal. A Sunday where you have nowhere to go, nobody to talk much with, nothing to buy but a whole city to explore even though you’re not much aware of the routes and places. Well, I decided to stay back home. My room had a strange environment. The three other girls barely talked initially, even though they were staying with each other for quite long. I thought to myself, “There isn’t even the luxury to rant about the food with anyone.” Over the week, I had come to know one of them whom, I found a little better than the rest. She worked for Amazon. Little did I know her, but we soon shared a great bond. That Sunday was her last weekend with us as she was about to shift to a new place. It hadn't been much long that we had been together but I didn’t want her to leave. I was more scared of losing a company who’d eat the same filthy food with me, share the fruit juice and a walk at night, who’d share those looks when there was that awkward silence in the room or share her experience of stepping out of home for job. That Sunday, we just put on some music while she was busy packing and I was busy studying. This day is still the best Sunday spent so far for no particular reason. But I believe that talking can be comfortable with many but there are rare whose silence is not discomfited.

The growing bond…
It had been so many days since I hadn’t had good food. My taste buds had gone numb and very honestly, the Ahmedabad hostel was million times better than this. I know I’ve always cribbed about food but I wish I could help it. I planned to go to the Gurudwara with my first and the only friend, I explore Bangalore with. And very happily, he never denied the fact that he went there to have ‘langar’ very often.  Well, he has been a rescuer when it comes to hostel food. Firstly, the Sunday lunch, then the Gurudwara and then an ice cream treat. We never ran short of stories to be narrated and things to be shared and of course, the places to be visited. Very cunningly, I had bragged about my love for driving bikes, the fascination of owning one which kind of faded, after I drove his and met with an accident. He is so wonderful that he still kept on encouraging me to drive but my hands were trembling. Well, he continues being a friend who entertains my poor jokes and lame wishes to go to a club while my exams are going on. I still sometimes wonder how he took my silly things so seriously.

July 30th, 2016 Saturday:
It is 20:00 and my heart was still racing, even past an hour and a few minutes. I was still getting those anxiety laughs. This was clearly Bangalore’s first anxiety attack. I could laugh at the fatuity of the incident now, but just a few moments ago, I could hear my heart beat till my ears. It had just been 20 days since I was exploring, enjoying, making new bonds and meeting new people. One of these hilarious, unprecedented and crazy person got everyone out their seats that night. Till now, we had begun sharing our food, clothes, playlists and juices and hence this anxiety attack as well. She made us do what we hadn’t ever done.
I said, half panting, “This is the first time I am entering a Police Station.”
Sangeeta, “Even me”
Amreen, “Dude, my first time was just few moments ago”
Now before you people set out your wild imaginations to hunt, I’d like to mention that we were no criminals or suspects, just three students going to file an FIR for a lost iPhone. As ridiculously ordinary as it might sound, she had forgotten her phone in an auto. I can gladly take the credit for writing a complaint letter while both of them tracked the phone’s location. Not to brag, but yes, we did most of the work ourselves. We were just a uniform away from becoming police officers that day. Lately that night, after getting an innocent beaten up till finally getting the phone back, we were dead tired and decided to rejoice on the Maggie I made and give CID titles to each other. What was special about this incident you might just ask? Well, there was a time when we all were anxious and scared; when Amreen’s mom and grandmother started crying when her phone wasn’t reachable; when I thought I was too immature/young to handle a situation like this; when we faced the situation where two girls had to go along with a young official late at night and it freaking scared the hell out of us. More importantly, in all the mess I was thinking about my Dad, about home. I didn’t want to put myself into unnecessary trouble being some 2000 miles away. I called Dad to ask what should we do but there was no response. But anyway, we managed to find the phone and ourselves safe before 12 am. Phew! that was a big deal. I never really knew we could deal with it so smoothly.

August 21st, 2016 Sunday:
No matter where you are, the happiness after the examinations end doesn’t change. I had just finished my first exam in Carmel and was all set to celebrate Rakshabandhan. Oh yes! Days later, because while everyone was busy celebrating, I was busy studying Biomolecules. I was not home on Rakshabandhan for the first time but it wasn’t that bad as I have a piece of my family even here- my bhaiya and bhabhi. Though we were celebrating it days later, we had an amazing time together. There was not even one moment when I felt that I was meeting this lovely lady (my bhabhi) for the first time. We had met earlier but for a very short time and from that I recall she makes yummy bhajias. The reason I chose to write about this day, was her. She is flawless; a lady I can look up to, a lady whose every bit leaves me inspired. If work be a piece of cake, she definitely has the biggest share of it. And bravery, my dear, is when even after a long day’s work, she returns home with a smile bigger than ever. She plays like a child with her daughter who eagerly waits for her mommy to return home and it is so appreciable that she the little one is never disappointed. Looking at her, I realize that there is so much that the society expects from a woman and she has been tremendously caring, loving and thoughtful. Hats off to you superwoman!


Few days later…
Humans always suffer with mood swings and I did the same. So far, everything was manageable but now, things got out of hand. I lost some old friends and wasn’t attached to new ones so far except one. I felt low but tried hard to keep my calm. I got thoughts of changing my career plans and what not, but I kept on hoping for it to get better. Classes had turned boring after the fest and freshers' week had ended. My birthday was approaching and sadly the one whom I wanted to celebrate with, had gone home. I thought I’d go on a date with myself not because I was turning a lonely lunatic but because I really needed to spend some time with myself. I wanted a hot chocolate with Vanilla and a good book and some peace after these long hectic weeks where I worked so much.
I was excited. I was finally going to be 21. I wanted a new dress. I wanted a new look. I wanted to look young. I wanted to slay. This was quite not how most of my acquaintances’ expect me to be. Bangalore was bringing out a hidden personality and I pretty much liked it.
Damn! I just found out that 9th of September would be a strike again. I had had enough of this bullshit already and I was super agitated when I found out all my plans were ruined. For God’s sake, I had been thinking about the day since a year back. I used to wonder where I’d be on my next birthday, whom would I celebrate it with and in which part of Earth and Wow! What an amazing news this was. I knew I’d be locked up in my hostel room. Birthday party venue: Sanjaynagar, Bengaluru, India. PS:- Outsiders not allowed. It’d surely be a great day.

September 9th, 2016 Friday:
Let me just read out my diary because I made sure not to miss an emotion that day. I didn’t sleep before turning everything into words.
 “It is time for vague optimism. A 24 hour day seemed shorter. There was no hurry, nowhere to go, nothing to see outside the boundaries of these yellow painted hostel walls, but sometimes all you need to do is just look around and find a reason to believe that you are special, that you are loved, that you occupy space and hence you MATTER.  Today on my birthday, I just couldn’t find time to stop counting my blessings. How amazingly mom dad had planned to wish me first. The number of people wanting to wish me first, the way people I thought were not so attached took efforts to get a cake at midnight just to make the moment more special. While I was away from home, the amount of Facebook, Instagram and Whatsapp messages and posts flooding in left me speechless. I just looked back for a moment and thought that few days back I was thinking I’d be alone and here I was, couldn’t even spare  a moment with myself because the number of loving people God has showered me with. May be a part of me would just say that it isn’t a big deal if 1 day out of 365 is spared to make u feel special, but amid the busy life and all the problems that the universe has to offer, we do forget to express our love. I wonder how we mean so much to so many people but we never realize why. I thank each one of you who took out a moment to wish me and make my day so much more special. To the poem and the messages and posts, to a stranger who took me out for the ice cream, to the room mate who spared time for a walk, to the others who got the cake, to the one who troubled me by not wishing me when I expected the most out of him, to all the unexpected phone calls, to the family members for unconditional love and to the most amazing parents and sister who gave me this life, I thank you all beautiful souls. I am me because of your love, because of your contributions, because of your time that you invest in me.”

PC: Google Images

To all the people who are reading this, when you feel low, just step out and look around. God has blessed us with angels in disguise and there are not one, but many reasons to believe life is beautiful and worth living, and that you are precious and amazing no matter what. While I wind up with this unusually long post, I feel the pressure to narrate another small incident before signing off. This might have happened with a lot of you but it somehow demands my attention. A few days back, I was waiting for my bus to arrive. There was a young gentleman sitting on my right. An old lady came up peeping to look for the bus. He immediately got up and offered her to sit. Well, that little act of kindness touched me. It is common and still rare. Yes, kind people are hard to find. And I am glad I just gathered all my courage to go up to him and say, “I really appreciate your sensitivity towards people. Thank you!” I am sure I made his day while he left a bit of me happy and inspired.
This sounds like an acknowledgement page but I really wanted to take a moment to count my blessings and I just hope reading this provokes you to count yours. For the people who say I always bring in light, I don’t know if this ray would be as bright and I realize I am being awfully dubious these days about my posts but I’m sure you’ll forgive me for that.

A rather disturbing event

I just came back from college and logged into Facebook as is the regular schedule. Life has been hectic in the past month. Not that I had nothing to write about, but couldn't spare time to do so. However, this news compelled me to come back here where I pour out.
Warning: This post is going to be impromptu because A. I cannot take in more regrets for today. B. I keep on hearing these days that my posts are impulsive though I thought they were opinions deeply thought over. Anyway, I respect perceptions. Peace!
Getting back to the point, I logged into Facebook and saw so many "RIP Shahrukh" posts from my friends. I was confused. I couldn't collect my thoughts and gather a logical conclusion. I thought hard to recall all the people I met so far, but I have a lame memory when it comes to people. Suddenly, I recalled I had a batch mate with this name. I tapped on the name appearing in blue highlights and there opened a profile with a familiar face, a familiar smile that was exchanged few years ago in the school corridors. I recalled the casual greetings exchanged. I was struck with horror after hearing that he passed away the previous night. Also, I recalled one of my close friends mentioning that he had a life threatening disease. I got anxious and probed for more information from relevant people and I found out that he had been suffering from blood cancer. I hadn't ever felt more regret than this moment. I wish I would have talked to him; at least a couple of times.
I could have talked to him to may be convey better hospital and doctor options since I have had a close experience. May be getting him in touch with other cancer survivors I know. I know it would have not changed the reality, but at least got any hope or will power to him. The least I could do was to be just another friend to talk to in hard times. He went through two failed bone marrow transplants as per a friend. I couldn't be more absorbed with ruefulness at that moment.  I don't know if talking to one person in a lifetime makes a difference or not, if my presence had changed things or not, neither am I blaming myself for anything rather I feel that I don't hold an authority to even blame myself for anything related to an event as big as death, but there was a time when I had decided to touch lives of people who go through the same and this person was around me for ALL the time and I had been stupidly ignorant. I really feel awful today. May be, life is as such. We get carried away with the awful daily routine of ours and forget what could be more important. I feel that after this I'm definitely going to look around and work for the bit that I feel I'm responsible to do.
I haven't ever posted such a personal thing on the blog, but just after this happened and I told my brother about how miserable and regretful I felt, he brought in a faint ray of hope for me saying, "It was God's will. Everybody is bound to leave someday." I haven't heard of more clichéd and pathetically true lines than these, but what he said later moved me. "Time won't come back, but all you can do is learn a lesson and develop perseverance for your goals and resolutions to touch people's lives if you really want to and the universe will open its ways for you." There is no concrete reason today for me to write this article, but it just feels right to do so; as if it is the most I can do right now apart from praying for him and his family. This is the only way I can manage to pay tribute to a fighter, a friend may be- I wish I could call him so, but the Facebook wall would still blink an 'Add Friend' option.

Lately, I had been reading, "The lovely bones" by Alice Sebold. I haven't reached the end yet, but it is about a girl who was murdered by her neighbour. She describes how heaven is and how she watches everything from above, how her soul touches some people while she leaves how she watches her family and the immeasurable void that death leaves on her family. I wish he gets the heaven as beautiful and I wish that his family is blessed with the strength to bear the huge loss. Amen!

Watch your means of entertainment!

This might just sound like an impulsive rant, but today, I got into a debate which sadly turned into a heated argument with a male friend of mine. The next thing that hit me was the idea to bring up this issue on the blog. It did affect me earlier, but not as intensely as it does in this moment after knowing how the mentality of most people has moulded. The topic of discussion, as most of you might be wondering is the idea of 'item songs' being celebrated in the country. I am sure we can have varying opinions and perspectives towards things and I have been a kind of person who has respected all the opinions, even if not agreed to them but this case, somehow fails to get into my head with peace.

At this point, my dear readers, I would like to ask you how many times have you appreciated a boy dancing on chikni chameli or any other item song. So yes, I would refer to the majority right now. Little girls grow up dancing on such songs, be it a family gathering or any other public event and they are encouraged and applauded for it. Deep down  doesn't this gets in their mind that it is just another, more effective or may be the only way to get accepted in a male dominated society. The lyrics, the aura, the kind of clothes that the actresses wear and the way she is being responded to- everything is just so demeaning; defying and suppressing the existence of women as an equal gender. I do not blame the makers for this, for they'll only make what sells. Neither do I blame the actors who role play item girls and allow their bodies get objectified. Of course, they do hold a moral responsibility to think about the adverse effects of their roles and what their performance does to the society but it is an individual choice, at the end. I blame the viewers. People who label this as a means of entertainment. What is it that they are getting entertained by? The drunkards in the side light of a female who is half exposing her body for money or the lyrics that basically portray women to be objects of use for men? I just have one question. Will they get entertained in the same way if the same is being performed by their sisters, mothers or female friends? I don't seek an answer to this question. It is for you to think. As Ani DiFranco rightly said, "Either you are a feminist or you are a sexist/misogynist. There is no box marked other."

Some people might just say that even women enjoy seeing the male actors going shirtless on screen, isn't that just as wrong? The answer is yes, maybe. The basic idea of this article is to convey that objectifying body and condescending any gender should not be seen as a source of entertainment.

                                      PC : Google images

It is very easy to put the blame on males for everything wrong that happens to women. Item songs have basically fostered eve teasing, I strongly believe. Not just that, they have also led men to think that it is okay to call women 'hot', 'chick', 'sexy', 'maal', 'patakha', etc. Sorry but these are not compliments. They just make us feel disrespected. Coming back to the point, these songs and the way they are celebrated and followed make things seem okay; even if they condemn women. What would you expect from a boy who grows up in a prostitution house? Will he ever respect women or extol their existence? And similarly, a country where item songs are appreciated, will there ever be something called gender equality no matter how many feminists fight for it?
To a friend whom I couldn't get to agree on this, thanks for the idea of the new post. I hope to get across my point through a handful of people who will stop watching/encouraging/appreciating such gross ideas. I hope that all this will stop one day so that India becomes a better place to live in; a place where bodies are not objectified and genders are not discriminated.

PC : Google images

PS: Please feel free to add your opinions in the comments section.

Opinionated

In the recent world, where advancement is on the spree, education seconds the basic desideratum. As a student, after so much quelling, I fail to resist myself and I feel an opinion is called for as it is we, who are being used for performing the experiments.

In the midst of busy schedules, assignments, tests and various kinds of entrance exams; one question strikes hard everyday when I start working. Let us rewind our lives a little and go back to secondary school. How do you see yourself? Most of us have memories of the coaching institute we were sent to. Some of us might have taken studies seriously and others might have enjoyed fooling around. Whatever the case may be, the question arises about how much information do we still retain? How much polishing of our thinking and analytical skills has taken place? I am sure, if you are an Indian, your answers about these questions are more or less the same. Courses were rushed and only a couple of students tried to understand the logic behind the concepts. Somehow, I feel that the syllabus is way beyond what it should be. To me, the education system has turned out to be quantitative rather than qualitative. Being a science student, when I first stepped in class XI, I was filled with enthusiasm and I won't hesitate to admit that I am a curious cat and I guess we all have that curiosity, rather we should have, shouldn't we? As the days passed by, the cat was murdered by the stress the syllabus imparted and learning became limited; grades occupied most of the conversations and thought process, rather than logic and reasoning.
To share my experience, I recall the times when I got carried away by situations and the kind of life I was living. I was stupid enough to ask doubts that required applying simple common sense. It now worries me so much that the entire purpose of education and learning is being annihilated. However, passing the high school felt as if I had got through the stressful phase of my life and of course, I couldn't have been more wrong. I managed to get a seat in a good college. Exhilarated and ready to learn, after all, three years later, I would have a graduation degree in my subject. I had my plans for research. I started maintaining a journal in which I would write about my future research plans. The first year passed and so did second and here I am at the verge of the end of three years of graduation with precisely no new information. These three years passed with learning everything again that I did previously. The only difference is that the focus remained on one subject i.e., the syllabus gets reduced and we get an additional year.
I wonder if the past five years of education makes sense to anybody! Isn't it high time to bring a change in the system so that it ensures both quality and quantity. How about merging the five years and ensuring employment of teachers who not just focus on completing the syllabus but help students enhance their logical and analytical reasoning. I embark on the glory even before the change- the kind of doctors, scientists and teachers that our country will have then. It is said that one of the main problems in India is unemployment but one of my teachers rightly says, "The problem is not unemployment but the problem is that there are less number of people efficient enough to be employed so we generally choose the best of what is available."

                     PC: Google images

PS: By this post, I do not mean to criticize any specific school, college or the system makers. No offense but let's take things seriously and work for change- for betterment of the generations to come.

Posts stuck in Instagram filters

I think the title explains it all! Hope you like these random snippets. :)

Across the bridge

PART # 1

There is an anxiety which never vacates the room in my heart. All the hustle-bustle on the street, the lavish cars and brightly lit showrooms showcasing the best designer wears feels so hollow. There is a time when most of the children dream of a lavish lifestyle. It is like a gleam that could be seen to have a piece of moon.The life across the bridge (a literal one known as Ellis bridge in Ahmedabad)- the glistening streets , the showrooms, expensive, unaffordable stuff all well fitted in those rooms. All for what? For us to have them or for them to define us?

I saw a mannequin wearing an expensive dress being stared by a homeless girl. Her eyes had a gleam as if telling me that somewhere in her heart she knew it was beyond her reach. She could only stare at it from the other side of the glass door. It was such a strong metaphor for people on the other side of the bridge. While they try hard to fill their stomach, they also crave for these unattainable things.

If I talk about people, all of them are busy in their own lives sparing little or no time for what’s really essential i.e, the loved ones. Old parents live in old age homes. Their children are busy earning money for cars, digital media and other luxuries but little do they have for their parents. I wish they had thought, just once, ‘What if parents put their children in foster homes?’ I am sure the answer would have sent shrivels down their spine.

People who are struggling to meet ends; people who are working for their families; people who work so much and still barely make sure that their family does not sleep empty stomach; people who have to sacrifice basic necessities at times; people whose mere survival is at stake; people who are poverty stricken. This was the story of the other side of the bridge.

I have written this just to bring out the realities of two sides of the city. What if the bridge was not just a physical connective? What if some people were able to see things beyond money? I wish these rhetorical questions are some day thought seriously about.

PART # 2

The other day I entered the classroom almost banging my bag on the bench, complaining about the poor quality of food in my hostel, the injustice a professor continued to do, the hectic schedules we were having those days and all the unreasonable things around. I remember not being able to concentrate on what the professor taught that day. As a daily habit, I went to visit somebody during the break. That special person is a teacher, a counselor, a friend, a perfectionist and the best person I had met lately. While we were talking, a pretty, young woman knocked the office door. She came in and gave the details of the behavior of her students in class, lately. She seemed quite sincere and hard-working. She spoke in fluent English. She was a new faculty member who taught English to the science students. I squinted to have a look while she was busy talking to the other person in the room. She was slender, with average height, short hair, her hair probably pinned up, beautiful eyes wearing mascara and she was casually dressed. No sooner than she left, my eyes were filled with tears. Realization and consternation struck me hard. The woman I just described was a cancer survivor. To be very honest, the charm and spark she carried somehow defeated the reality. Even her blood cancer could not screw her ambitions.She could have chosen to crib about it, she could have chosen to loose hope. She could have chosen to die, which was much easier but she chose to be brave, she chose to have faith. She fought, she survived and here she was- living her life to the fullest in spite of the circumstances. After so much struggle, she was working hard. She did not let her situations define her.

I really adored her from that moment, for whatever she was. These words are probably too less to describe her beauty. Nobody can match the beauty of a survivor. Some people leave us, may be for better and they are as beautiful because they struggle till the end. When did you last feel gratitude for your health and well-being? For the beautiful evening that you spent last time? For everything good that you have? Just few moments back, my mind was occupied with umpteen trivial issues. I gave reasons for not being able to do well instead of passion for work. I found it so hard to stop ranting about how I wasted one year of my college life by losing two or three good opportunities. All this was so immaterial, but still we let it rule our mood, our love for self, our day and our lives. Her mere appearance washed it all. She rekindled a new spirit of hope and I did not know how to thank her. She became the bridge. This bridge of inspiration, of realization was so necessary to be traveled. She helped me cross that unproductive phase which brought peace and motivation. She was a gift to me, I might say. I am sure she is doing wonders for others as well after all, life is too short to keep regrets. She is also helping other cancer patients to share their story so that they can imbibe a spirit of hope and bravery.

This new year let us all take a pledge to cross bridges. To grow together!

Diary Entry #1

Sugar and Spice

There was a time in my life,

Some fate, a whim of God

took everything away.

That knowing look and loving glance,

And signs of love, kisses and laughs;

The moments of happiness and kiddish talks,

The hands that held in times of pain,

All those miseries and cries in pain,

All went in vain.

I didn't imagine the impact that my loss would make

How to start anew, which direction to take?

One way to go,

But I was lost in shadow.

And then, as if to ease my pain

And to remove me from my hell,

Along came this gentle soul,

To heal me and make me hale

With his smiles and lots of love and care.

I thank God for giving me

Not once in life, but twice;

The chance to have two special souls

One sugar and one spice!

Hoping he'd make it more special

By giving back my sugar along with my spice

If not possible in this life, I wish it for my next life.

Very few, yet adequate

I am amazed how some writers express their views in just a few words/sentences. Different kinds of writings have never failed to intrigue me hence, I decided to execute this experiment. Very few, yet adequate. I chose this particular title, as I have tried to write short stories, one of them being just a 6-word story.

• I could feel the comfort of his arms, only till I was asleep.

• Her mellifluous voice was buried. Forever.

• She kept feeding the toxic plant; their flowers had once provided comfort. She feared complete dissolution.

• She could not wait for the time when they would live together and each moment she would fall in love with him all over again. The only conundrum being that she could not afford that teddy.

• "My life is incomplete without you," she read the letter merrily and kept it safe.She clung to the statement and fought with her parents and with a firm belief in his words until she saw him mocking over her grief.

• "I will be there," he wrote while he was drunk.She reopened her eyes only to see herself falling from the cliff.

• Her life ended. It rained heavily. The universe mourned along with me for my better half.

• She wanted to talk; but she preferred writing. She lost faith in people and befriended books.

• Once she got acquainted with the same pain, she wished to suck it all from her dad. She loved him.

• I think she relied on me to save her, to bring her out of the hell she was being seeped in, oblivious of the fact that I was a mere human, incapable of performing miracles.

• She was afraid of the dawn and mistook the heaven for hell, for it was God performing the deed to set her free.

• Advent of dusk brought her home where one day we all shall go, this shall keep me neat as one day I know we are bound to meet.

P.S- The last two stories came as a reply for the one above them. It is not written by me. Rest of them are self-written. Feedback is valuable. Thank you for reading.

Are you comfortable?

Comfort- (noun) state or situation in which you are relaxed and do not have any physically unpleasant feelings caused by pain, heat, cold,etc.
Are you comfortable with yourself?What if you are taken out from where you are, lose people whom you love? Will you be able to manage to stay happy? Not wanting other people to validate you? No matter whoever it be- your parents, friends or life partner? How long can anyone wait for validation? How patient can you be? How long can you live in a state of mind- with that wait, that void to be filled?
 No matter how hard we try to change somebody's mind, but their soul is something that remains beyond our reach.  Each one of us has come for our own journey with a purpose to be served before we die. How about concentrating on that? How about spending time on self- development?How about enriching the mind with beautiful experiences- be it travel or good fictional reads although it is unreal. So what? It does not matter unless it is not intoxicating your soul. Some people are destructive not only towards others but also themselves. Pondering over what anybody commented is a waste. Even if you don't give attention to it, you cannot deny the fact that it leads your actions at times. That may be productive for some people but not for all.You think a job offer from a good company can answer your worthiness?  How abrupt is that! Just realize that it will all be useless. They will never give you a ray of hope, sooner or later, you will have to give up. How hard you try, will never be hard enough. Your efforts will only return in disdain.
  You are not made up of words that hurt you. Or the expectations that you feel you will never meet. You are made up of nothing more than you. Love yourself. No matter how hard it is, it is not impossible. Get comfortable in this moment. Stop procrastinating or waiting for things to happen even if you are working hard to achieve them. Keep telling yourself that you are intelligent, worthy, desirable, loving, compassionate, inspiring and brave.
We can be with others without using them as means of escape. We can work towards our goals without the urge for validation. We can be happy with what we have.

"You have to find yourself before anyone else can find you, love yourself before you can be loved,believe in your future to be a part of someone's future."
-Unknown

Breakup apology

There is a strange silence that flows and still we know everything,

though with a heavy heart,

we choose to separate our paths

where nothing will be like before 

and knowing it can't even be,

even if it is wanted the most.

I remained dry eyed until now, as dry as smoked fish, but my heart is a kind of dirty soft custard inside. I am not sad, rather stunned, not really believing you are now so far. I never realized our bond was so special unless I had to break up with you. I was forced to. I thought I would be very happy, but as days passed by, I started missing you incessantly. Never ever in my life I have felt so nostalgic. I remember how comfortable, effortlessly delightful and friendly I had been with you. I regret the fact that I never really appreciated the things that you did for me. Though initially, our relationship was forced to be and then, at times I felt that I didn't fit in with you, but now, I can laugh at the fatuity of my own thoughts. Nothing can suit me the best and I feel so exultant of having stayed with you. Those were definitely the best days of my life. You did things to mould my future when everything was so dubious. I adore the concern you showed for me.

You gave me the hope and optimism that escorts me at every moment and helps me to overcome the most difficult situations. I love you, forever and a day. I was distressed at times because of your unruly behavior. I always thought of the other options I could have. I thought I deserved even better unless I recognized the fact that there is none like you. You made me what I am today. 

Amid all my worries and ample of sorrows,

How without any complaints,

Without any issues,

and without any comments,

You just listened to me,

like a best friend.

Paved way for me to spend time with you

and let me know

how strong, brave and beautiful I am and I can be. 

And now when I look at  you, you ensnare my soul, my heart melts and it is as if I am falling in love with you every second, longing for the day I can be back with you.

The past could not be any better. I know that even now when I come, your doors are gladly open to meet all my needs and wants and I hope this tenderness and friendship will never ever desert me.

I owe you so much.
I am gratified for trivialist of the things.
Baby, I will always hold you fondly in my heart.
I love you, my school.... Sophia (Mount Abu).. and I miss yuh :(