The Communal Conversation

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I really can’t forget that evening, cool breeze and gratifying petrichor oozing out of the hungry soil. I felt euphoric, my hair seemed to perform some brilliant salsa number but yes, as told, it was evening and was getting darker every minute. I couldn’t afford to drench myself in the drizzle. “I have to rush to home!” I said to myself. My exhilaration had to be self-guarded. I waved hands to every auto rickshaw that came my way but they were over stacked with people squeezing in close together. Getting into such an auto rickshaw would have been only a reason for discomfort and displeasure. Alas! I waited and waited. The same evening draught was getting irritable. After like ten minutes or so I managed to get a not-so-crowded auto rickshaw. I sighed with relief. As I took a seat I heard the auto rickshaw driver and the man sitting next to him engrossed in some petty conversation. I was least interested to hear to them. I looked outside the auto and made every possible attempt to breathe in the cold and moist air. All of a sudden I heard a loud uproar of laughter by the two, the auto rickshaw driver and the passenger next to him. They seemed to enjoy the ride much more than I was enjoying the weather. Notoriously, I drew my attention to their dialogue. Not that I find eaves dropping irresistible but I somehow felt their conversation was more interesting than what I had indulged in. Continue reading

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The Note from a Woman

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Before I begin with the article I wish to draw your attention towards the disclaimer:

The present article isn’t inspired from the Uber’s Case, any Open Letter or the sensitive video on ‘Indian Women Deserve to Get Raped’ and not even the recent acid attack on a woman doctor by another fellow doctor who was her best friend, huh! The article is an expression of my thought that has been haunting me for a long time now, in a local bus, crowded street, Jogger’s Park, railway coaches, while some emotional and agonizing read on women assault, leisure walk and during encounters with real incidents. I had wanted to find a space and some time to pour out my heart on how it feels to be an Indian Woman and finally I could make some time for it. Therefore, the article mustn’t be considered as a ‘Season’s Post’.

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Lessons Learnt in Time #3

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At times we take such reckless decisions in life that we simply cannot help it anymore, none can. We can’t retreat, amend or take lessons from it. Life does not always bring memories or experiences. It may just cut off the thread to all of it. It’s just over forever…. Life does not have retakes. It’s just once and for all. One who does not love life gets the same in return. It’s one such scoundrel who does not comply with you ever, but with all oddities, Life’s Good!! Continue reading

Remember ME!!

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Do not remember me for my looks, not even for my knowledge or expertise, forget me please if I was only a name for you, never mention me in your conversation if the only thing you remember about me is my lip colour, eye make up, nail paint, dresses, accessories, handbags, or sandals…. If you really want to keep me with yourself then please do but for my good deeds, for my kind gestures towards you, talk about me if I was of any help to you, ever. I want you to remember me for what I have been to you, the kind of person I am to you and definitely not what I am for myself!

For a Laugh: Love Marriage VS Arranged Marriage

love-marriage-vs-arranged-marriage_20120408022745The blog post is penned only for fun. It has no venomous intentions of any kind.. It is a fact, if not everywhere but at least in my homeland, India, that the moment a baby is born, parents start harbouring plans of marriage of the apple of their eyes. Nothing wrong with it, but at times it gets too much. To me, it often seems MARRIAGES are the ‘be all’ and ‘end all’ and yes truthfully I detest it… So here I am, with my funny analogies and perspective over marriages: Love and Arranged

Statutory Warning: You are done for life after marriages, whether LOVE or ARRANGED.

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Lessons Learnt in Time #2

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The worst cheating of all is when you cheat yourself by stacking desires that will never be fulfilled, by spinning emotions that shan’t come true, by knitting hope that can only moist your eyes and by bagging trust that you don’t have faith on..

 THEREFORE

Be the protagonist of your life. Don’t let other characters rule the pages of your life. Yes, they may influence your story but ultimately everyone would wish to read you through your pen. The day you flavour your life with only YOU, I bet you’d be the bestseller!!