Life Notes.

My mother rarely reads my blog. Just because…

With the 100 Happy Days having been conquered, I was really excited and insisted at least thrice (in two minutes!) about reading my blog.

She gave in! And then she started going through the other posts I had put up and as fate would have it, landed up at this :

In this digital age of love, is it too much to ask if I want your hand in mine and not my phone…

If I want you in front of me and not my laptop…

If I want …

And I just kept looking around because this was turning awkward! Not ‘cuz I was hiding a relationship from her (Gosh! There has to be one to hide one!), but ‘cuz she starts reading my stuff after so long and stumbles across this? Of all posts, why this? Now, she would be more curious about my relationship with a guy rather than my relationship with words!

You must be knowing how moms can be. I am sure her first reaction on reading the piece was, “Is my girl really good enough to make this up or is she dedicating it to someone?”

Fortunately, (or unfortunately, only time will tell!), she didn’t react after reading the post, but simply asked, “Anything else I should read?”

And I went all out with an “Absolutely not!”.

Because that… was embarrasing.

Image
Moms know it all!

Life Note To Self : Mothers know best. If they refrain from reading your work, let them! They are just saving you the embarrassment.

Graciously Yours!

P.S. : My mother’s a working woman with an almost liberal mind by Indian standards. But I guess, not liberal enough to save me the blushes!

P.P.S : The sketch is by me. Even if you do not like the post, I’d still adore you if would leave a word or two about the beautiful mother and child! 🙂

Advertisements

Completed — 100 happy days.

And that my friends is the end of my 100 happy days pledge!

 Lots of memories, lots of struggles to find something happy in the day, hurried flashes of camera, getting out of bed half asleep after having forgotten to post the day’s happy picture, and penning some beautiful pieces on days like this and this! Oh and this too!

Pursuing this taught me a very important lesson – Even on the worst days, there’s a possibility of joy! Earlier, only Kate Beckett spoke it, now experience does too.

 And I have not been alone in this 100 day journey! Without my family and friends to give me the much needed support, I wouldn’t have managed even a day!

Their lovely smiles, crazily optimistic spirits, penchant for unconditional love, a “Hi!” here, a “How are you?” there and sometimes just their being around was enough to make my day.

 

 

Dance like it is the last dance. Live like it is your last chance. After all, only cats get nine lives! A little craziness wouldn’t make you insane. Been there, done that! 😉 Unless, you think I am damaged beyond redemption, then you should steer away from the advice (AND THIS BLOG!) right away.

Technically, this may be the end of my 100 happy days, but I will carry forward this experience for the rest of forever.

Oops! I could continue typing away but this technically marks the end of my one hour break too and now it is time to get back to my live-in partner – my beloved books!

Psst – There have been days when I have skipped posting, but can we keep it to ourselves, please? A day or two can be forgiven and forgotten right? 😉

Psst again *very discreetly* – The other 99 days are posted on here!

Look UP!

The menacing social media subtly defined so.

I am not sharing this because I have been phubbed (phone snubbed, for the unaware ones like me) by my younger cousins, almost avoided getting hit by people who’re busy looking into their phones and walking down the already narrow and half dug up footpaths of Calcutta, have spent times with friends where we are busy updating statuses on FB, Twitter, Whatsapp about where we are, with whom, and having oh so much of fun instead of talking to the one who’s actually in front of you! Yes, all this and so much more has happened to me, but that’s not all. I am sure a lot worse might have happened to you. Maybe, we’ve done worse to others!

Close your laptops, phones, iPads, tablets right now. Just put it away. It can live without you for an hour or two. But can you?

A View From My Window

Fell in love with the picture and then the words…

Cat Jenkins

A View From My Window

On many levels, this is the writing process to me.
It’s bending over a keyboard, lost in your own little world, only to raise your head and see the marvelous things you’re missing.
It’s knowing you’d still choose to return to the places of your imagination even when confronted with such stormy beauty.
It’s a choice, every one of which carries its own rewards and regrets.
It’s knowing there’s an end to every struggle; a light at the end of every tunnel.
Unless it dead ends.
In which case, it wasn’t a tunnel at all. It was a cave.
So you find the safety of concealment, rather than light.
It’s all in how you look at it…

View original post

At peace within.

 

 

Her petite frame stood by the window, the hands outstretched to feel the torrential rains pour down on her palms.

He went and held her by the waist, nestling her back into his arms.

They stood like that for ages it seemed. The chill in the air, peace in her breaths, the sound of the claps followed by her slightest shudders, brought him still closer to her. 

He couldn’t hold himself back anymore, and took her hand and slipped on the ring.

“Marry me, will you?”

He felt the sharp intake of breath, goosebumps run all over her while the skies lit up in full approval!

With quivering lips, a heart thudding out of her chest, she turned to bury her face in his torso. 

The tears welled in her eyes. They flowed down to his heart, as the nurse came in and said, “The patient needs to rest. She has her last chemo tomorrow.”

Graciously Yours!

IN LOVE… WITH LIFE.

 
I was in love with life.
Until...

All those small moments shared,

All those little secrets told,

All those great mysteries unfolded,

We were there for one other unrivalled.

 

Tagging along, always found by my side,

Today, when I turn, I see none beside.

A twinkle here, a smile there,

Would make my day, no matter where.

 

You were my solace, you were my charm,

You turned out to be the one who caused me harm.

Little did I know, how it would end,

You twirled my life around a hair-pin bend.

 

You decided to make things bad,

You decided to ignore me,

You thought you could turn the table around,

You thought you were the one who’d survive,

But I am the one who did.

 

I am glad you were there,

And I am sad you aren’t now.

But one thing is for sure,

I am in love… With life… Again!

 

Graciously Yours!

Spam Alert!

Technology at times, rears its ill head out of the muck in the most comical of ways possible.

I got spammed by someone yesterday who randomly found my number from a service called ‘TrueCaller’ and sent me a friendship request on ‘Whatsapp’.  So with advancement of technology, these unwanted friendship requests from strangers have advanced from Orkut then Facebook and now Whatsapp. I found a novel way to wriggle out of it! Novel for me, don’t know about you.

Check it out :

And that was the last I heard from him! 😀

Graciously Yours!

MISSING – Fellow Blogger.

Dear Fellow Blogger,

You swooped down on my blog one fine day and showered me with comments. We almost started a mutual admiration society. You excited the writer in me and made me want to please the friendly critic in you. You introduced me to the Army man’s perspective of the written word and rendered me speechless over more than a creation or two! You appreciated all, criticized where absolutely necessary, saw the good, tried to reform the bad. The beacon to many in this dashed world of hopes. The country’s soldier, loving wife’s caring husband and a doting father to two adorable little girls, you aroused sentimentalities in numerous fellow bloggers.

It’s been more than six months since you last wrote. It’s been more than four months that I kept thinking about what made you stop. It’s been over three months since I left you mails, still lying unanswered.

For the sake of you and your family and the numerous people you’ve trapped in your swiftly and delicately woven web of words, I sincerely pray that you’re just stuck in one of those Indian Army assignments, which has probably taken you to a WiFi-barren remote location, where you just haven’t found the access to share your stories with us yet!

I cannot think of anything more depressing than this.

I miss having you around.

Graciously Yours!

 

 

Image

A Look Is All It Took.

“And up next is the hot favorite of the season — Nikhil with the slew of his latest songs!”

The crowd roared in welcome. He was her current favorite singer. She was in love with his voice. And his face, too. But voice more. And then he walked onto the stage. She wasn’t crazy enough to try and leap across the stage security but she was crazy enough to get up on the benches and cheer for him.

When he started singing, her friend pulled her down on the seat again and they started swaying to the voice. The rawness, love, passion in his voice that she heard sent her tumbling in a world of her own. Her friend jabbed her in the ribs. She tore her eyes from the stage and looked at her companion angrily! The friend just nicked a look towards a group of boys sitting a few feet away. Some of them randomly had their cell phone cameras focusing in their direction arbitrarily. Some randomness.

She caught one of them looking at her and when they caught eye contact, he looked away not losing the smile.

The smile seemed eerie.

The paranoia triggered.

She had countless incidents running through her head. Nikhil’s voice had been pushed to the background to the constant stream of chatter of safety, security, and self precautionary measures she had heard in the 24 years of life! She chided herself for having come without a male companion.

Any direction she looked, any smile she caught, any stray look she saw, made her heart sink lower.  She crossed her legs. Sat upright. Lost her smile.

A Look Is All It Took.

Why I am not safe among my own?

Raw emotions. Inked.

%d bloggers like this: