Monthly Archives: March 2015


Don’t fall for crap it’s a trap. No.. I’m not trying to tell you that there’s some sort of matrix out here.. Neither am I trying to talk about any Christopher Nolan movie..


It’s like maze and we can’t find our way out.

Some people seem to be liking us.

Some people seem to be hating us.

Some people seem to be confused all the time.

Some people too intelligent, others too stupid.

Does he like me that way or are we just friends?

What does that comment mean? Is he trying to be rude?

What do straight face people mean when they say anything at all?

The list is unending and I just can’t seem to find the right words to describe this whole chaotic situation. The only word that describes it best is ‘illusions’.

Haven’t you ever experienced this, that you had this particular image of a person and that just turned around and then you realised how contradictory your opinions were! Me too. You’re not alone.

Sickest illusion of all? Love.


The truth behind silence

There was a time when silence used to intimidate me. It made me feel like I was missing on something really important. It made me feel like there was silence because people were upset because of me. And if not, because of some reason and it was my duty to make it up to them. These ideas didn’t really make sense and this is when I realised I needed to find something.


One of the reasons why silence felt so intimidating is because of the society’s idea of silence. Dark and lethal. It is only later I found out that silence isn’t absent at all.. It is perhaps the air that fills our world and our minds. And that sometimes, yes it portrays negativity and sadness.

The silence that’s before a storm is overwhelming but the silence following it is devastating. This devastating silence is what I felt multiple times in my childhood and in my teenage. This scarred silence for me. I didn’t want anyone to face things. I wanted people to know that I was there.. I was there with them and that they were not alone in taking these blows that life had assigned them. 


It’s only later I realised that silence isn’t so much of a bad thing. Some fights are to be fought in silence and all we can do is wait in silence. Patiently and modestly by their side. The silence that fills a broken heart is also the silence that fills a well stacked library. It is on us to how we deal with it and it’s deafening roar. Not so deafening perhaps.

My Blog’s 3rd Anniversary!!

I can’t believe this is happening. Three years have passed and all i feel is i have grown out of things, out of people and out of memories. I feel proud of myself for not giving up and i am most grateful to all my friends, my family and my followers who have encouraged me to write. We write, because how else would we remove a zillion thoughts that are always capturing our mind. We write because writing heals and sometimes in this world that only shouts, it’s the ink that actually listens. My ability to write my feelings down has made it easier for me to connect with people on a deeper level, has given me friendships that i value and love that i has always craved for.


I’m sure my father would have been proud of me, my grandfather would have encouraged me and now that their soul rests in peace, i hope some angel shall convey my message to them,that it’s their love that has been my strength and that has given me the reason to live.I hope this continues for ever. I hope i write better and stronger. And i believe that words can really change the world. My words have been my voice, and i pray that they will never fail me. Loads of love.



Love – I

Defining the indefinable, explaining the indescribable. It feels like a tune that is stuck in your head but you just can’t find the right words to sing it. It’s like a beautiful picture which others can’t see and you just can’t, even after all the efforts, explain. It leaves you breathless and the desperation to show them what you have seen is immeasurable.

This is how it feels like when people ask me about my opinion about love. What saddens me is how media and a huge chunk of people have associated ‘love’ with ‘sexual’ feelings, that it almost sounds like an abuse if you ever happen to use that word.

No narrow minded people you need to stop. Metaphors are crazy and similes are striking. It’s the warmth of milk on cold night, the coolness of mint for a thirsty throat. It’s like the breeze on a hot day, the breath you catch when you’ve ran for a mile. It is essential and inescapable. You will find it but it often appears in disguise. Like anger and rage it isn’t so direct and expressive. But it is as frequent and as intense.


Maybe it is difficult defining it, but i could tell you where i found it. It’s uncertainty is plausible. It is a life saver. An encounter with love feels like being back at home after a long weary journey. It is in the arms of a mother. There are days which wouldn’t end and nights so sleepless and haunting. After a long suffering when i fall into the arms of my mother i feel, time stops there. And i can always go back to the moment , and i do, whenever i feel i am not blessed enough. If you can find shoulders you can cry your heart on, feeling healed; you have found love. And it is in the eyes of a few people. They believed in me when i didn’t believe in myself. They knew i would rise even when i felt i wouldn’t be alive. It is this feeling that makes life worth living. This feeling of being able to look at ourselves in the mirror and know that we don’t have to be perfect to be loved. Love comes to us even when we don’t love. But it is our refusal of accepting this love that makes us unworthy of it. And by accepting love i mean, giving it back, way more than we received.

Again, I don’t mean to say that sex and love don’t go together. What i mean to say is, we cannot narrow down it’s meaning to it. Because i can’t fail to admit that sometimes a street dog has made me feel more loved than a lot of people related to me have. If you are ready to feel it, it is ready to heal you. Take a deep breath and let the magic in.


It is just that some of us get pathetically lonely.. On weird times of the day..

And surprisingly these are those people who seem to be very social, extroverts. You’ll find them being friendly with everyone. All categories of people love them. They are always with people.. Smiling and shining, it’s so easy to spot them in the middle of the crowd..

Awfully difficult to understand what they feel because chances are, when they’re truly sad, they disappear. You can’t find them anywhere and you might as well presume that they must be somewhere, happy-go-lucky as they are, laughing and giggling. Seldom is someone so happy always.


What tears them apart is how a person who could at one point of time be the tinkle of everyone’s eye and at another be so brutally sad and beaten up by the darkness of their own shadow. Something that they, themselves fail to understand or possibly are reluctant to find out.

Knowing all the answers scares me more than anything does. I’m terrified of losing this grip, a thread that binds us to life. And loneliness sometimes is necessary, at other times fatal. All I know is that I’ll fight. I’ll stay and I will make a difference.

Why I feel there is an urgent need to equality?

This is my story.

Because i was born in a very open-minded family, i never felt that my brother was given an extra piece of cake or an extra glass of milk. We were equals and i think this has given our relationship a very firm foundation . Although i belonged to a family which was very open minded and school so liberal that i owe them a lifetime, i ended up meeting a  few people who would often tell me ‘Tum ladki ho na, Ladkiyan aise nahi karti, That’s too much for a girl to take’

But i took it like a challenge anyway. My school was next to my house and i had not really seen the real world until i joined college which was a bit far. I would take a rickshaw to the railway station and then board a train after which i had to walk almost three quarters of a kilometer to reach college. College was fun but it was in this process of going to college and coming back, i had weird experiences. I was unaware of how this new world would treat me.

I would notice people staring at me, ogling at me and i found that so uncomfortable that sometimes i would go home and sob in my pillow, i didn’t know why it felt bad but it indeed was devastating. Sometimes this crap would be taken to a complete new level, people would whisper demeaning comments and  disappear in the crowd and i’d be all annoyed and startled and stung. Why? Why? Was all i thought.

Days passed and i got used to the whole ‘ i will stare at you as much as i can thing’ and learnt to ignore it. We don’t have any other option, do we?

I came to degree college and here things got worse. I never thought i would write it but i am doing it anyway.

In the beginning i never felt anything of this sort because i wasn’t judging anyway. Moreover it never struck my mind. Who knew i would have to face this!


Eventually i realized that people not only keep nick names to my body parts (I mean are you not happy with the names given in our language) but also would yell out those names when the lights went out and i would only lie in my bed and stare at the sky and weep with open eyes. My heart broke because every time i  walked on the road i would hear distant roars of nicknames of my own body parts. How much of a wonderful person are you to make someone feel ashamed of themselves?

I began hating every nerve and artery  of my body. I would refuse to look in the mirror because i would see the face that had got me all the suffering, all those sleepless nights and humiliation. And all the embarrassment in front of over a thousand students.

I would imagine people looking at me and recollecting my new names. Heart ache? yes.

Worst thing? i didn’t know those people and i still don’t know who they are.

They were having fun and i? what about me? I wanted to find out who these people were and see if they are perfect, see if i can keep names to them. I am incapable of such madness.

The worse was yet to come. These cat calls grew at lightning speed and hence decreased my self confidence.

People who told me were my friends, would also catcall, would bitch about me, and never stood by me in public. What should i do with your sympathies that you give me over the phone? Are you consoling me for having a vagina? thank you for your sympathies but i am afraid i don’t need any.

People would apologize to me in private for not STANDING by me as they were  AFRAID OF THE CONSEQUENCES. The consequence is nothing but an ailing country and failing humanity.

I was rotting in this manner, wouldn’t eat at all. Would always lie in my bed fearing that if i dared to go out, people would again stab me in my soul. I was afraid that i would never recover. I am still afraid that i won’t.


Anyway, because they didn’t have theirs i grew mine and fought back. If they believed i was ugly i had to show it to them. Anything more intimidating than a woman who is ready to fight back? i doubt. Anyway the aggression grew. More catcalls more shitty pieces of advice.

“Tum ladkon se baat karti ho isliye”

“Tum dupatta nahi pehenti isliye”

“Tumhe seedhi saadhi ladki ki tarah rehna chahiye”

“Tumhara boyfriend nahi hai isliye”

The list is endless. But i wasn’t going to back out. I still cried in bed, never told my mom anything because i was afraid of how awful she might feel but in spite of everything i knew one thing, if i didn’t stand for myself today, i would hate myself for the rest of my life. I’ll destroy myself but i won’t quit. Which i didn’t. Complained to the authorities and got shit done. Yes they told me it was my fault, i told them it was my mother’s fault, she should have killed me before i was born. I had no idea this ever happened to anyone at all..

Just wondering if this is how the Indian culture believes in treating its women. I have severe doubts on that.

anyway not saying that i grew out of all the slut-shaming. I still face it, not as often as back then but i have chosen to fightback. Which i will.

Because if we don’t stand for ourselves nobody will. And no prince charming is going to come and save you. You have to be your own savior.

Last but not the least




One Saturday morning you wake up to this disgusting feeling, like someone stole your intestines? Nope that’s too much. Like someone stole this peace which is in your gut. Yeah exactly.

It’ s one of the most awkward feelings one can ever go through. And i’m there in the shower telling my brain “Dude. Come on. We’re already all worked up with a million things on our to-do list. You really wanna play this crap?” Perhaps, the heart wants what it wants (No no no. Not a Selena Gomez fan.)

No matter how much you try to get yourself distracted by stuff, the emptiness that has taken your world for a monster ride isn’t ending and heading nowhere! You clean the bookshelf, you do every god damn work you had kept pending since 2001 . Nope not working.

Let’s try to figure this one out.

Once upon a time there was a girl named Sia. Sia was a sucker for beautiful leaves. Every morning Sia would go to school and by the time she came back she would often bring two or three beautiful leaves and keep them in a box. Days came  when Sia was so busy that she would often slightly open the small tin box in which she kept the leaves, quickly put the leaves inside and close it. Eventually Sia started noticing a foul smell in her room everyday. One Sunday morning she opened her box of leaves only to find her leaves withering and rotten. 

Devastating? Yes it was for her. Why? Because the leaves that she collected were often the only good that happened to her throughout the day. Why couldn’t she take care of it? She thought keeping the leaves in a box would preserve them but only heaven knows how wrong she was. 

“Grandma. My leaves. My leaves are rotten and gone! ” cried Sia almost disappearing into grandma’s arms. The only thing grandma had to say was

“Sia. If ever you love something, never try to hoard. If ever you hate something, never try to hoard it too. Anything  that is hoarded rots. Whether good or bad and it never does any good.” 

So YOU need to stop. Whether it’s the happy feelings or the sad ones. Crazy thoughts or the happy ones. Jot it down, sing it out. Dance it off or play it up. Anyway, do not hoard it. Don not let it stay. Because this emptiness in the gut is actually emptiness in the brain that can never bring any good.

So if you love them. Tell them. If you dislike them, stay away from them. If it hurts, nurture it. If it makes you happy, let the world know. No matter what, feelings like chocolates shouldn’t be ignored (you are going to hell for ignoring chocolates)

It doesn’t let you do what you want, live how  you can . And one day it strikes you like thunder and lightning and all you understand is that ‘someone just stole my intestine’. So save your intestines before you lose you butt.