The Verandah

This tale gives you a small glimpse into the lives of local calcuttans - simple people, slow life and fish. The air has culture, good music, books and smiling faces. The taxi driver (we respectfully call as ‘dada’) will be updated with the latest political scenario and aware of his own rights. You will always be welcome to this city, doesn’t matter where you come from. Here’s a small tale from the city of joy.

Rita woke up to her day at 6 AM, her mother had called her twice and the third would be dangerous. Ma was always worried if Rita missed waking up at 6, her day would be wasted, a logic she never understood. Baba was attuned to Ma’s logic and followed the same. Her house was falling apart financially each day and she often thought it would the last day in her father’s inherited house on the tiny Kali lane. Contractors had made various offers and they contemplated each of those against their memories of Didun (grandmother) and none of them were good enough. How could they be? Last 6 generations had been living here and dying here. The memories run deep in their blood.

Rita was a PHD in microbiology and she went off to various offers with her small file to end up rejected. They said they needed her to know the computers well or they couldn’t pay enough. They never needed her knowledge and yet that’s all that she knew. She’d probably compromise with the work but the city was slowing down, falling apart, most of her friends were jobless and flying out. Didun’s memory never let her consider that. Maybe she would some day just go away to save Didun’s house. But today was not that day, today she would just wait it out.

She pushed away the CV file by nudging it a little with the corner of her arm and sat up on her bed. It was a 3foot high bed with wooden carvings on the head and it had four support pillars going up creating a rectangle for the mosquito net. It was made of pure Mahogany and this used to be Didun’s bed. Ritu slipped into her slipper and walked to her favourite place on earth – her Varandah.

It was a small potrution from the main house into the lane (possibly illegal by the present land laws) with tiny little flower pots and a parrot swinging mightily with the breeze. The little garden was Ritu’s creation of her travel adventures. She hadn’t seen the world but she wanted to. She had read of it and she imagined each place in her head. How Sherlock’s Baker Street would have been like. How the baboons from Africa (Chander Pahar) would be like. How wild animals in Africa ran. How the most dangerous mountain was like. How the valley in Holland would look with a full bloom. She wondered sometimes. Other times she would look at her little garden and think she’d be there someday and brush her palm against the rose.

Maina, her parrot (ironically Maina is the name of another bird) was named by Didun. It was a joke her grandfather made of. He would say that all of Kolkata’s people always dreamed so small that they would name a parrot with the name of another ordinary bird, scared it would fly away, just like a parrot should. He was a scientist in the Saha Institute and was forcefully retired due to false allegations that never got proven or resolved. Didun however was no less, she hailed from a little town in Kalna, had completed her biochemistry from the Bardhaman University and that was it. Her marriage had got in the way. Didun kept writing and helped Dadun (grandfather) in the lab work whenever she could. Ritu always looked upto her ability to manage both sides of the household. Ironically, Didun had slipped on the Verandah due to wet floor and had a sever hemorrhage ending in her sudden death. It was widely discussed in the joint family whether the Verandah was unlucky and if it should be broken off. Luckily the current laws required them to first make it a legal part for working on it. There were some complications and work needed to be done before it could be brought down. Procrastination must have orginated in Calcutta (Kolkata) Ritu thought. Any work that needs work can be assumed to never be done by the Calcuttan. She smirked. Her little cat pressed her skin on her feet and she caressed it. Her little world was just perfect.

She could hear her mother call her for the breakfast. She would have to help her, so she scurried her way quickly to the kitchen, glancing at her little Verandah again, her heaven, her little breath of fresh air.

-Inspired by the new film ‘Verandah’ by Rituparna Sen Gupta

The Airport

Have you noticed the people around the farewell destinations?
The airport,
The train station?
A crowd full of strangers with a few smiling faces,
The smiling favourite faces of your family and loved ones;

Ever noticed it being one of the most famous places in movies,
However cheesy it sounds,
It still touches our soul,
Because we all relate to that one feeling,
The feeling of letting go,
The feeling of farewell,
The feeling of holding on;

It's not convenient,
I know that,
But then what kind of a life did you want?
Just convenient?
Or great?

Look beyond the small things,
Love with all you got,
The best things in life deserve so much more,
The best things in life need a reason to stay,
So be there for your best friend,
Be there for your parents,
Be there for your partner,
Just be there.....that is one of the best ways of being anyway....isn't it?

Easy is not love

Easy is convenience,
Easy is not love;

Love is breaking all bars,
Going across the border,
Taking the bullet,
Running for miles,
Missing the flight,
Going the long way,
Missing the million dollar deal,
Finding a way;

Love is hard,
What people want is this,
But the price they are willing to pay....
Is convenience..so what are they looking for?

I don't know,
It's just another fable

Sometimes....maybe it's love

You seem to like each other so much,
You can't stop talking,
There's a urge to catch up,
It really just us,
And yet you're waiting for the other person to nudge,
It really just is hard,
Can a meeting be so meaningful,
Should we wait it out,
It feel so right though,
So can it be love after all?

Or are we in the loop again,
We don't want a messed up tale,
And what's meant to be stays,
So is it or is it not?

Sometimes maybe love is fast,
It feels right after all,
Let's see where the journey leads

Just another thing

There will be a million,
A million who promise of love,
What matters is what are they willing to do?

Are they willing to go the mile,
To walk the distance,
To embark on the daunting challenges of life?

Do they help you seek what you look for each day,
Do they partner in,
Do they give a lot to become a part you?

That is the man a woman needs,
The love that stands the test of time,
Because this and only this is where the chance begins,
For you to love truly and madly,
The rest is like a promise that fades when you test it out,
So you have to be ruthless,
And not light hoped to the second best;

The best awaits,
And it will meet you someday,
From moon to back,
Any journey they shall embark,
You too shall deserve the best,
You too shall meet them there;

Home

Time for homecoming.....this weird feeling of excitement, when nothing on earth can disembark me from my roots. To be truly connected to your roots is a power of unbelievable strength, almost like vulnerability gives us strength. This is how it feels like to be home

Some of us are lucky to have it,
The place I think better than heaven,
Where else do you find such solace,
Such selfless love,
Such warmth,
The feeling is called home;

Every family is not home,
The brick and mortar isn't home,
It is a feeling one had to build,
Something my parents did,
And we eventually became a part of,
It never occurred to me until now,
Every penny we saved,
Every hardship we faced,
Made the foundation stronger,
And that was built slowly,
And it stands like a rock,
I know nobody can shake,
And that's what I am so proud of,
The home we built;

I'm an idealist in so many ways,
Today's world celebrates the villain so much,
That sometimes you feel like a misfit being an idealist,
But think about it,
What takes more courage,
The running away?
Or facing it?
What the world I believe is trying to address is the hypocrisy,
The ones who try to show they face it but aren't,
So the joker may be better,
He atleast is himself,
But the batman......we'd swear for him anyday;

Home could be people you meet on the street someday,
You meet them for the first time and they just get you,
It's crazy right ?
It's the feeling;

Home can be the old philosopher in your town,
Who has the world of romance sorted,
Shall die single,
But has loved once and still bathes in its glory,
It completes him in a way most couples could never mean it,
It's the feeling;

Home can be passion,
Where you immerse yourself in,
And the more you become a part of it,
It encompasses your whole being,
It still defines only a part of you,
It's the feeling;

Home can be the ringing of christmas bells,
Decor of diwali lights,
Sound of durga puja bells,
Sound of tranquility in the himalayas,
The hug from your favourite friend,
The time stopped in your lover's eyes,
It's the feeling;

Home is nothing less than magic,
But we must seek it,
In people, in places, in every little corner of the world,
It's right in front of us,
But we can't see it, unless we seek it,
And what do we do when we find it ?
Show how we don't need it ?
The whole vicious cycle of needlessness arises from neediness,
Only a lonely soul can paint a picture of emptiness,
Strength is in accepting, evolving, learning,
Strength is in building homes,
The little ones that you run to when it was a really bad day,
When you really screwed up,
This is that fort of yours which can embrace all faults and still nurture you,
Home is that heaven which saves our souls !

Curious

How things change round us is a lot on us,
We are responsible for the person we are,
And the person we pretend to be,
For the learners we are,
For letting go of all the past experiences,
For willing to be vulnerable,
For letting down the guard,
For just letting people be;

People are people,
Some bring hope,
Some bring hate,
Some bring stability,
Some bring desire,
Some bring mental resonance,
And some bring healing;

Being able to absorb the right energies in our souls,
Is a part of being curious,
Hold on to the right people,
And when it feels like it and the mind is clouded,
Wait it out,
Sometimes the best things can only have a test of time,
For what's true will stay,
For what's real will always stay,
Let the mind be curious,
For its edge is through it,
And the heart will find solace,
For that is what is meant to be always;

Once

It's been a long journey,
Loading from harbour to harbour,
Fetching the weights,
It never ends,
And I never seem to go home,
I've got used to doing it by myself,
In shallow waters,
Maybe that's what we look for,
A home in someone,
The warmth in real people,
Someone we could trust,
And they won't fail us like every other time;

Just this once,
They'd see we're broken,
Shattered maybe,
But will stay this once,
Build again,
And wait it out,
Let home become,
Just this once....maybe?

The Dilemma

Because some people just had it hard,
They've pulled the trigger and learnt to numb down,
They want you to try harder,
They want you to stay,
But the last time people walked away,
So they stopped saying,
They stopped loving,
Sometimes I feel only you can save us;

The door's shut,
With chains, guards and entanglements,
The last time we burnt,
We learnt that's how it works,
So we dumped emotions in a pool,
And shut it out away from us,
And escaped into the world of passion,
Lost in art and work,
Which didn't burn us ever,
Not once;

We've become twisted,
We want somethings,
And we act different,
Sometimes we are so confused,
We even forget which is which;
So, when things come our way,
Just what we were looking for,
We can't let it in,
Not anymore,
The bitter after taste was bad enough,
We'd rather not burn another death,
And yet we are stuck between the lines,
Thinking if burning is the price we must pay?

Dilemma it is,
Oh, do soulmates even exist?
It is true we were meant to be,
Can things so fast even manifest to some more?
Dilemma is it.....I once again am entangled in

The Roller Coaster

Life's a roller coaster without the adrenaline gush (or not quite like the literal one)

As the semesters came to a conclude,
We realized we had made ourselves sisters from other mothers,
We lived in each others skin practically,
We weren't ready to part ways yet....
That is when it dawned on us,
To savour the little left college time to the fullest,
That is when my so prim and proper college attendance slightly dropped,
And our professors knew just how it was going to go from here;

Here's where we hit the roller coaster.....

Our day chalked into one of the best days we'll ever remember,
And the Chitterne chatter with the risks,
Everything was great,
We seated ourselves in the tumultuous ride,
And gleefully smiled at one another,
Promised to not close our eyes,
At the peak of the rail,
And then it started with a small screech,
The little engine threw us up into the air,
And we hit the rational self thinking again....should we die, what will be amiss?
This wasn't all,
The world was unconquered,
The dream has just begun,
The list was incomplete,
But in this moment we were complete,
Content, happy,
Happy to part with soul sisters,
Happy to know people who would have our backs for a lifetime;

And today we do the 8 year cycle,
Well, research does say.....this is gonna last a lifetime,
The real roller coaster is on a roll,
But we know it's going to be together !

The scared | the guarded

It's going to take time,
It's going to go slow,
I don't trust the gushing wind anymore,
For things too fast, go away just as much,
The ones who stay were meant to be,
The ones who care are rare to be,
I'm handing out no love anymore,
I'm guarded and scared,
I need to be,
Not because I wouldn't like the stability,
But because humans have become vain,
Their whole character has come tumbling down,
They judge you on your clothes,
And measure you on the scale,
They've lost the idea of innocence,
And have lost faith in little things,
They want the soulmate,
But work nothing like it,
They've just become vain,
Dull, dark, miserable beings,
And I am a misfit,
I love with a bare soul,
I keep my family close,
I love the warmth of close ones,
And I bathe in their glow,
I have this little nest of mine,
So perfect that I keep it close,
Different, I am very different from today's youth,
And this is me;

So I know,
When love will come,
I need to be sure,
It will not blow the whistle,
And will wait out the hardships,
For the fairy tales are great,
But the ones that don't stay,
Hurt more than ever,
And I am just keeping myself safe,
So a hurricane doesn't pick me from my storm,
And place me on another one,
I need to be sure,
That it is as true and pure,
As I am,
As beautiful and strong as me;

It cannot be just another story,
It can only be the one,
And beautiful it is,
The forever I want;

Selfmade

I belong here. I always liked to think this was true until I was confronted with a very new perspective. And now I know, no one's self made.

Yes, we make our choices
But would you finish college if your parents hadn't saved?
Would you live if the orphanage didn't support you?
Would you stay without that sponsor of yours?
Would you live if you were the front row soldier in World War II?
Would you be anything if it weren't for everything around you?

You make your choices and that's a great thing. But we are not self made, we are an integration of all that comes our way. All we do is choose whenever we can. And that's why we should be greatful any day for all we have.

The road

We've been made differently,
In a unique way we all differ,
From one another,
In tiny little ways,
And then we become the distinct tiny atoms of uniqueness;

To that somethings compliment,
To a lot of us, it is the road,
The wind in the hair,
And the green around,
For a moment we feel free,
And we sense security in freedom,
Adventure in speed,
And lots of love with the right company,
For some it is their own;

Like the runner's drug,
The road has one too,
It will call upon you from time to time,
And wanderlust will hit,
Plan your road journey with the best people around;

Messing it up- old school and romance

It's like a fairy tale,
How we think of it,
And the funny things is,
That is all there is to it;

The small things,
The innocence,
The naturally growing fond of someone,
The little moments,
All of it;

What it is not,
Is the pre calculated flavours,
The needs and wants being measured,
The power struggle,
The ego clash;

Let it happen,
Love is uncertain,
And it is at the core of its nature,
It is a leap of faith none can define,
And to limit it by our understanding is fatal,
It is he simple things,
The adrenaline,
And that's all there is to it,
That's where magic lies;

The complicated human,
Thinks one could make more of it,
One could measure it,
One could define the rules,
And apprehend the probabilistic result,
Neither of which of true,
As messed up love is,
We complicate it further,
Fools we are to think,
It can be smothered with parameters,
The whole feeling of magic,
Is what we are pulling out,
Sweet old romance,
Almost leaving our place;

To old school and the little times,
I hope we learn to trust the fleeting moments,
I hope we learn to trust the magic of feeling love,
And that is all there is to it;

Snow - the dire wolf

It was the eyes first,
And then the thick white fur,
They gleamed at me as if,
As if it needed me,
Needed me to not let it down,
Like mother would look me in the eye,
After multiple manaces put up with,
I looked again,
And it lay there still hoping I would better,
With an axe in my hand;

My hunger growled,
And the adrenaline pushed me further,
It was meat, just meat,
And all of snow laden Ladakh,
Didn't have any food for me,
Just one inmate,
I could save or eat ?

So I looked again,
And my memories came flooding back to me,
How I left all responsibilities,
And ran into the hills,
How I wasn't making some people proud,
How I craved their love still,
How things had just overturned,
I then let the axe slip out of my hand,
And cupped my new friend 'Snow' in my hands;

Death

It is the end of the era,
The end to all the good,
The end of all bad,
The end of the experience of life,
It marks the end;

The memories become fonder,
The dead man more loving,
The sins seem smaller,
And losing them harder,
We as humans cannot comprehend,
What must go,
And it's need;

We are frail to the ending,
Our egos fatal to our being,
We disregard any power,
For we believe in none,
And yet nature jolts us to reality,
When death laughs upon our vice,
And humours our wit,
And there comes our world tumbling down

The Sign

Perfect doesn't exist,
Or we've become so accustomed to compromise that when it sits right beside us,
We blink and say, "that's not true";
Maybe that's what we've become,
We try to shield ourselves so hard,
That we've forgotten what real feels like,
And anybody who comes by,
Has to stay, fret and cry to make us believe,
That for once they need nothing from us;

In the movie hall,
On the streets,
It might be time to stop,
To stroll a little,
And notice how time flies by,
How leisure we miss,
And how the dust swirls in the wind,
How human we are,
Vulnerable, imperfect, weak,
There is beauty in pain,
There is beauty in solace,
And there is perfect in imperfect,
For all who bear with our imperfect selves,
A big thank you....for being there,
A small request,
Just be honest.....

Compatibility

Noun. compatibility (countable and uncountable, plural compatibilities) The state of being compatible; in which two or more things are able to exist or work together in combination without problems or conflict.

Personally - an overstressed word. What makes you think some of the best couples sync like magic ? They don't ..... things go wrong and they handle it. That's the fun part - right ?

Now, that doesn't mean its literal sense goes down. With time, we grow to be more. For people who do not stop learning and are goal/dream driven, it is essentially true, we become and evolve into humans every day we weren't yesterday. Yes. it's positive and we love it. There's a small challenge. With more individual growth, you grow apart from many others and less compatible with the mass. Sounds cliche but that's a good thing.

Thus, on a journey of self discovery, it's both enriching and freeing to find the likeminded souls, if you're extra lucky, you might fall in love too :)

For the over-stressing readers here's some fact check. Did you know 'the similarity between couples' mattered less than 1% in successful relations ? The Harvard study showed what mattered the most was the likeness of reaction of each person to emotional turmoil. So if you cry together when bit by an ant, you have a good shot.....forgive my queer sense of humour !

The sweet endings

Don't try to rush it,
Sometimes there's magic in the passing by,
There's peace in letting go,
But make sure you did your best,
Make sure your past hasn't pestered your present being,
And let things be,
Follow your heart,
Follow your passion,
The best will be served on a platter,
Well, maybe not,
But you did your best,
And now let it be;

In either case,
Remember what you want,
What you deserve,
Be grounded,
Make a wish,
And go on.....

Believe in the best,
Letting go can often open ways to new arenas,
And remember what you want is probably on its way !

To sweet ending and bitter starts,
Life's a roller coaster,
Waiting to unfold,
Reach out :)

The Union

It's hard to read between the lines,
What remains unsaid as one speaks,
And yet we leave it exactly like that,
Years of pain and solitude haven't taught us this,
We still think love doesn't exist,
We still think we can beat it,
We still think it will always hurt,
We are still woeful of its effects on us,
We still think the serotonin will hurt,
We still cry to sleepless nights,
Might I ask why?

Because faith,
We have lost faith,
We have lost being our natural selves,
We have stopped loving our innocence,
We have stopped what naturally comes to us,
We have forgotten to love what is right before us,
We have stopped believing in what might be,
Love and magic are the same things,
And magic if you want,
You'll need to believe in what's never been.....

Maybe some greys are beautiful,
Maybe sometimes we just need to have 'faith'

Maybe

The maybes don't hurt,
It's the maybe one says while looking at you,
While they are your certainty,
Yes it hurts and pains like hell,
And yes it's meant to be exactly that way,
But you assume it's only you,
True love hurts more than any other;

For once in a while,
Our hearts are ready to give in,
To be true,
No games, no ego boost,
Just plain simple love,
One the heart barely survives;

It is hard to open up again,
But it's worse to let go of the true love you've deserved all along,
The one which feels like magic,
Selfless, genuine and real,
It's the one we always dream of,
The one we've known rocks our world;

To that love,
Please stay, please ask them to say,
Even if it means a little hard work,
Don't lose what may have been a lifetime of love,
Don't look with uncertainty,
Make maybe a yes,
Try being vulnerable just one more time

The lost motherhood

In the Radley sanitarium, Mary had lost her whole life, her motherhood. Her child whom she loved so dearly was growing up as another's
-from Pretty little liars

She was glad,
When she got to know,
About her little daughter,
In the sanitarium,
Things were a little hard,
It was hard to live by each day,
But a little daughter,
Oh, what joy she brought to her face;

And 20 years later,
When she could leave the insane house,
In which she was for no crime of her own,
She walked right out of it,
And stopped at her daughter's house,
In these past years,
She couldn't let her history affect her,
So all of this she let go,
No body knew anything,
It was buried,
And yet today,
Her freedom meant nothing,
Unless she saw a glimpse of her face,
So there she stood in front of her house;

A light shade of Halloween light filled the hall,
They must be happy she thought,
So she tip toed to watch her smiling face,
And a glance she had almost managed,
Except she saw the husband first,
It was her doctor who medicated her innocent self,
Fully aware of her innocence;

Her whole life was in jeopardy,
All she buried was dug out today,
Her daughter's future was in the hands of a maniac,
And her daughter had no idea about her biological mother,
Her motherhood was lost,
So was everything else,
She wished to rewrite it,
Just once

What's worth losing everything?

"What's worth losing everything ?"
"You"
"Thank you"

And that is what belief can do. Every human is worth is all, you just need to trust on yourself once....and maybe it'll all be fine. This is not a romcom, it's just a little philosophy a lot of people won't get. All that money, all that effort, all your time....what's worth all of it? Maybe it's a person, maybe it's a dream, maybe it's passion. You choose. But there are things worth it all. Today's is about friendship

Lucas and Hanna - pretty little liars

Every tried to defend a bullied kid ? Try it, they need it. For once when someone shows belief in them, they grow. They are like you and me and yet they were humiliated for no fault of theirs. There life is miserable for no fault of theirs. And there are only a few who can be brave enough to step in. That's what friendship is....sticking through, standing up in the hard times. Do a lot of people do it ? Unfortunately, no. You'll not find people standing up for themselves. Forget standing for another. But when they do, keep them close. They stand the test of time.

And that is what is worth it all. A bond savoured beyond time. A friendship worth it all.

Numb2

"It is both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so very deeply" - David Jones

On mundane days and longer nights,
It will occur to you,
Even if you've had the power to let go,
Even if you've been that brave soul,
It will come back to you,
In those rarest moments,
In those weakest hours,
When you least need it to,
It will remind you of your mere pretence,
Of you being but just human,
Helpless and vain;

You've learn after so long now,
How to hold the shield right,
How to battle on the ground,
How to shed blood and not cry,
How to look like a soldier,
And on the ground you put up a good fight,
And when you are back,
In the solace of your lone bed,
Your eye will burn,
And slow drops of blood will smear your kajal,
You will know,
None can be strong enough,
For strength lies in acceptance,
For strength lies in the truth,
In those weakest hours,
When you least need it to,
It will remind you of your mere pretence,
Of you being but just human,
Helpless and vain;

Yes, you have learnt to not feel,
To turn stone cold,
And be void,
And once in a bluemoon,
It will be reaped open by a mere human,
To remind you how void you have become,
How relentless doesn't matter anymore,
How mere a mortal you have diminished to,
And you will want to love again,
Even if it meant at the cost of risking it all,
And disheartened you will return to the solace of your wet pillow,
This time it feel hurt less....or maybe we still pretend,
In those weakest hours,
When you least need it to,
It will remind you of your mere pretence,
Of you being but just human,
Helpless and vain;

Your numbness is your weapon of survival,
It helps you cloak in a scarred heart,
And within that creeps in light,
Sometimes we know not whether to bathe in it's warmth,
Or keep the mask on,
And the curse of having to let go what wasn't meant,
Is another 'numbness' all together again !

On a perfect road

We're great fools,
We want things we don't have,
And when we have them,
We want more,
The thirst never ends;

It's a vicious cycle,
It starts with we wanting things we don't want,
Obviously ones we don't need,
And that list keeps growing,
While the disheartened heart grows fonder of the void,
And once in a bluemoon,
We find love,
One which stays,
Feels warm,
One which helps us grow,
One which simply smiles on our falacy,
And that leaves our perplexed;

Our ideas of love have become so twisted,
We expect people to help with a hidden agenda,
We expect it to be false,
We expect it to be dishonest,
We expect it to be bad,
And God forbid,
If it's even close to our perfect picture,
We run away from it,
Far far away,
Because when all the twisting happened,
We forgot, we forgot to love innocently,
We forgot to just stay,
We forgot our basic instincts,
And we ended up here,
Twisted as it is....Greys I call it

Grey.....

On a small note, I'm a non-grey person - everything in life belongs to a box 'black' or 'white' (often represented as good or bad). It helps in keeping a sorted and simple life. But then as life moves on there are these areas you'll never be able to classify, sometimes because you simple don't want to, knowing full well in your heart where they belong. You want to hold on to them, you still want to try. That's what we do, we survive, we fix things. And someday we realise we were trying to fix something which was not broken in the first place. Dilemma?.....Now you see 'Grey' !


On shorter notes,
I should have said 'good bye',
I wanted to,
And yet I couldn't,
Not that the hurt stop me,
Even though it hurt like hell,
No, that never stops me,
It was more of leaving a wounded soul yet again,
That stopped me;

I've known the other side of things,
What it is, the feel of lonesome pain,
And not have the warmth around oneself,
I've known to cover myself with the tattered blankets,
And I do not wish in hell for another soul to go through it,
So even if it pains,
I stay.....I always stay,
Even if it means,
I diminish,
I become less,
I find my self hollowed,
I hold on to saving another soul from falling into that deep dark pit;

I emerged happy and joyful,
But the pain, it killed me,
And not many will be able to bear it,
Not many will live after this pain,
Not many can forgive and not seek revenge,
So I stay,
Maybe just as a friend,
But I try.....till the very end,
I try to hold you all along!


And thus get written in my life's pages as unaccounted 'Greys'

The birthday card....from my 'father'

I had my 22nd card in my hand,
I was reading the words,
And all of a sudden I realised,
How fake it was,
How I was trying to keep myself alive,
Trying to feel loved,
With those words in there,
That I had personally selected;

From the 5th year,
From the time I haven't seen him,
From the time he's been gone,
I thought he'll write to me,
For he loved me,
The father daughter thing,
We had that;

And the letter never came,
I waited for the birthday card,
I waited for the school letters,
I waited and waited.....
But it never came;

So I thought,
Maybe he was stuck,
Maybe there was a reason,
Maybe it'll come some day,
Maybe it's on its way,
Maybe it's coming from another country,
Maybe it got lost,
Maybe this and maybe that......

And from the 6th year,
I decided to buy myself a card,
That he would have given me,
And then when finally his letter actually comes,
I'd be thrilled and overjoyed;

So with this card today,
On my 22nd birthday,
I feel alone in a room of crowd,
I feel that pit in my stomach growing bigger,
I feel my father leaving me once again,
And I feel it's my fault,
I feel it so intensely once again,
I feel I cannot feel;


-Inspired by 'Playing it cool'

To everyone who's read this, I could not express the fear of abandonment to one millionth of what it really is. I really hope each of you take care to never abandon a human, no matter what. Stick around, people need people

The festival of Diwali

This is one of the most popular festivals in India - it's impact can be best seen in the northern and western parts of the country. Southern parts (specially intercultural cities & towns) also celebrate this, however the impact seems a lot lesser.

The whole festival is based on the return of Lord Rama (from epic Ramayana) to his kingdom after 14 long years of 'Vanvas (forrest stay)'. The Vanvas was a command of the then king (father of Lord Rama).

Major celebrations include long hours of Puja followed by bursting crackers. It is also followed by a 'bhai dujh' celebration wherein the sister brother bond is celebrated. Do not confuse this with 'Rakhi' - this is another festival, which also celebrates sister and brother bond

Day 1 - Dhanteras
Day 2 - Kali Chaudas / Narak Chaturdasi / Kali Pujo (Bengal)
Day 3 - Bada Diwali (Actual Diwali Day )
Day 4 - Bestu Baras (Gujarat) / Govardhan Puja (North India) (New Year)
Day 5 - Bhai Dooj / Bhai Fonta (Bengal)

1st Day -
The first day of Diwali is called Dhan Teras (Dhanvantari Triodas), and it marks the official beginning of the Diwali festivities. This day has great significance in many parts of India; people consider this as a very auspicious day and Muhurat. The thirteenth lunar day of the Krishna Paksh (as per the Hindu Calendar), the dark fortnight of the month of Karthik, Dhan Teras is a special day. On this day, Lord Dhanwantari is believed to have come out of the ocean with Ayurveda, the science of medicine, for the benefit of mankind. A huge amount of buying, specifically gold, silver and precious stones, ornaments, new clothes and utensils, takes placeis done on this day. In the evening, children light crackers, and people also light some earthen lamps outside their home. In some parts of India, like Gujarat, this day is religiously held even more important than the actual Deepawali day, and people hold Lakshmi, Kuber (the Hindu God of riches) and Ganesha Pooja on this day.


2nd Day -
The second day of Diwali week is called the Kali Chaudas or Narak Chaturdasi. In some parts of India, it is simply the Choti Diwali, the day before Diwali.

On this day Lord Krishna is known to have destroyed the demon Narakasur, freeing the world from fear. On this day, it is believed that one should massage the body with oil to relieve it of tiredness, bathe and rest, so that Diwali can be celebarated with vigour and devotion. It is also believed that one should not light diyas or step out on this day, and rather stay at home and relax. However, in modern times, on Choti Deepwali, people go to each other's homes to wish 'a Happy and Prosperous Diwali' and also exchange gifts and sweets.


3rd Day - 
The third day of these festivities is the actual Diwali/ Deepawali, when Goddess Lakshmi is worshipped, along with Lord Ganesha. People light diyas and candles in their homes, and the streets all across India light up with millions of sparklers, crackers and fairy lights. After worshipping MahaLakshmi in the evening with their families, people visit temples, gurudwaras and even churches to light candles. They also exchange sweets as prasaad.


4th Day -
The fourth day is celebrated in various forms all across India. In the Western states of India like Gujarat this day is celebrated with great pomp and show as Bestu Baras, the New Year as per their Calendar. In Northern states of India, this day is widely celebrated as Govardhan Pooja and Vishwakarma Day, when people worship their instruments, arms and machinery. Most or all business establishments, thus, remain closed on this day. This day is also called as Annakut.


5th Day -
The fifth day of Diwali festivities is celebrated as the Bhai Dooj or Bhai Beej or Bhai Teeka/ Tilak or Bhai Fota (In Bengal). Brothers visit their sisters on this day, and the sisters celebrate and prepare sweets specially in honour of their brothers, wishing a long, happy, healthy life and great success for them.



This article was sourced from https://www.ganeshaspeaks.com/predictions/astrology/5-days-of-diwali/

Phoenix

Between ashes I rose,
A bird unimaginable,
And flapped my feeble wings hard,
Into the new born air,
For hurt I was,
That crumpled me,
And the pain was too much to bear,
So I had to do it,
Burn through it,
To arise as the Phoenix, yet again;

I've run different errands,
Ran to various corners of the world,
To take a look at how best I could handle my present,
How I could make it all work,
And yet again on this new journey,
I am unborn and reborn again,
As I walk through the journey of love;

This another time,
I have come back to you,
For writing is my only solace,
With you I can survive another day,
When things tear apart,
You're the only one who keeps me sane,
my love for you shall be undying,
You are my only solace;

The power of healing

This blog has become a dungeon of my clouded thoughts and in them I find solace. As life passes by and my undying spirit wears off, I document the small pieces of monuments that fill an array of my life. To thus another of those days....here's to the power of healing

I've met many aghast souls,
Torn, depleted, overused,
Crying, wounded and even void,
These souls remind me of the unforgiving world,
The world where humans hurt other humans,
A world where I don't belong,
A world we hate to admit as ours,
But we live there and let it pass by;

On such occasions I have realised,
There are powers stronger than hate, anger, muscle and bone,
This is the power of love,
The power of faith,
The power of empathy,
The power of understanding,
The power of resonance,
The power of sensitivity,
The power of trust,
The power of belief;

The wounded souls will be lost,
They will find us sometimes,
We must remember to help them,
We must remember wherein lies our healing powers,
And we must share with them the love;

For even the deadly souls I have seen,
Live with a drop of love they can feed on,
Love the country, love the nation,
Love your friends,
And help the ones who need it most....

It is the power of healing

Evolving

Life is a series of adventures,
Some we like,
Some we don't,
Each of them has a lesson to impart,
And we are living examples of those,
But then on some part of our lives,
We stop learning without being hurt,
We try to be numb,
Because it God damn hurt too much,
But what have we lost?

Maybe the rarest thing in life,
Sometimes things people don't find all their lives,
Maybe we need to heal,
And start again,
Be the man / woman we are meant to be,
Because we die to rise again,
We end to start again,
The past is in the past,
And it cannot bar our present,
It must not become so painful,
That we stop recognizing the best things presented to us,
If I'd advice,
I'd say listen to your heart;

We are all hurt,
And it's part of the process,
We are all broken,
We all need fixing,
We have to let others put the pieces together,
Just believe in what the little heart says,
Even though it's not the IQ centre,
It's got its little brain,
It always knows the one,
Believe in yourself,
Believe in the one who will help you heal;

It's always a leap of faith,
And heal all the burn,
If it feels real,
It is the best you've found,
And however mindblown you are,
Accept it,
Accept destiny has found you,
And you are already loved,
This time with innocence, consistency, loyally, crazily, with work pressure, full independence, really loved !
You deserve the best,
Everyone deserves their best,
It's always a leap of faith,
Don't let the sand slip away,
It's probably the rarest thing you hit,
Let there be faith,
Love like a child,
And let them love you back.....

For true love is worth everything,
It stays....always

An open mind

This one's how an open mind can help you see things differently and for me it was part of my favourite journey

We're wired every moment of our lives,
We think like the society makes us think,
We believe in things we see,
And all of it is an institution of something,
Something we believe is true, real
Some of us even consider it so right that we support 'honor killing';

This etches our little minds into the young adults we become,
We are more free thinking as children who know nothing, who question everything, and most importantly who dream,
As we grow up, we are rubbed by the societal beliefs unconsciously,
Very few times do we realise we were mere babies churned out to become our societal selves,
It's not right or wrong,
It's just not really us,
It's an impression our society leaves, our parents leave, our siblings and other loved ones leave,
Not that it's bad, it's just an unconscious self we develop into;

And in these live barriers,
I personally hate cultural, creed, race, religion barriers,
But I did use the word 'hate',
Which makes me a less tolerable person,
It also means I get affected by the societal structures as much as others,
We are a part of this human churning machine and very few of us actually think and realise it,
And in spite of my belief of me having no cultural biases,
I did have my own share....I still do,
And here's what somebody pointed out to me,
I wasn't offended but shocked....it also took me sometime to understand what it meant,
And here I am working on making myself a better me,
Trying to consciously decide and not get biased unconsciously,
This was a step to my genuine growth and I'm growing here,
I am so thankful to this human;

Side note -

Don't get me wrong,
A structure has its own benefits,
Society also stops us from being an uncouth mass of vanderers,
But it can be better, free, non-judgemental, human
So here's our request,
Think, question, dream,
There is nothing etched in the stone,
Be who you are while you live,
Or it'll burn you before you know it!

-This philosophy hit me hard, so I am sharing it with you but it's not mine. It's what a great friend of mine once told me. Not sure if names would be appreciated, so not naming here....my friend should write maybe :)

Insecurities - part 2 (Chapter : Mekha's story)

This story started here

Mekha is the girl with the cigarette. Her substance abuse can be hard to comprehend when both the girls could barely manage their meals and save themselves from being abused now and then. It was in the wild, no parent, no guardian, just the two of them.

Mekha once had all of that. She had her loving father, a caring mother and a brother. Everything was perfect until it fell apart. She heard her parents fight some nights but it often ended in her dad storming out the door and slow sobs of her mother. It was the last few months of her memory. The fights had increased and she and her brother often clung onto one another praying to the idol in front of them to make things fine. It would mostly be good in the morning, at least things would look normal. Father would hug her tight and ask her her math questions before dropping her to school while her little brother played in her mother's lap. It didn't look like it would crumble ever or maybe Mekha never accepted what she could see unless the cracks had given way to the separation.

One day after school, when Mekha returned home, she found uncle Todd at home. Her mother said he was there because she had fallen sick. Mekha was very worried after she heard that. She knew her father was away to the refugee camp, saving a few more lives. After that, she often saw uncle Todd. And after a few weeks, her father comes back. The whole family gets together for their cultural festivity 'The Durga Puja' at their cultural home. This was her favourite place and time of the year. Three generations got together and her great grandmother (didama) lovingly pampered her here. But this time her heart wasn't as happy, her brother kept crying all through the day. She saw her little family and uncle Todd sitting in the red floored open room. It was conventional for adults to gather her for serious discussions often related to the money investments for the customaries and children weren't allowed. Mekha has a secret hiding place behind the field door and had been hearing it since 4 years. She was there this time too and she clearly heard

'I am tired of trying....I have given him 2 years and now it is not working. We've decided to take a break. So you don't have false hopes, I also wanted to say, I feel differently about Todayityo (Todd) now and we might take our relation forward' stated her mother. Mekha went stone cold. She didn't know what that meant.......worse, she didn't want to find out. So she shut her eyes and closed her brother's ears.

She remembered, whenever she was angry, her parents always came one after another to persuade her. She never softened with any one's love. So it occurred to her little brain that this might be what would change her mother's mind. So she tuck her brother in his bed and rushed out of the main door in the room.

'Kothai jachis (where are you going) ?', said a feeble father's voice and it faded.....

She had walked for some time, certain she would be followed by her father and mother and her brain switched between the fights, uncle Todd and their loving moments. And finally, she looked back....they weren't there. Nobody had followed her and she didn't know her way back to the broken family.

The remains....

'It's always the money, you know' she shouted and took 4 deep slow breaths. 'The insurance firm, the doctors, the filthy rich...everyone !'

'It's not all like that, you know', TB replied. 'The longer you wait, the harder it gets....it's like an addiction. You have no account of how much it grosses in your bank and yet you can't stop it from coming in because that's all that you know to do. But with time, its price degrades to a level where it's never enough. The options aren't enough, the view's not good enough, the car's not fast enough, the hype isn't enough.....and you try to cash in more and put in more work hours. Like we know, the same pinch of heroine cannot give you the same euphoria. It just goes downhill from there'.

image source http://www.lanlinglaurel.com/beautiful-girl-hd-wallpaper/4183976.html

'That's particularly deep for the insensitive person I know you to be. Have you been there?'

'Let's just say....I have. You have no idea of what I have done or haven't done to have myself where I am right now. At the least, there are some henious things i'm not proud of doing'

Sarah gasped for air several times, her chest was heavy from pain and secrets and revenge she hadn't shared in years. They were burdening her down now and she couldn't have divulged them in front of a man she wanted to trust but the trust issues wouldn't allow. It had been a rough walk, from her roots to the office, every path she took had come with labour and pain a man couldn't think of. Very little of humanity lived in her and she was scared of it making her weak. And every time she looked at TB and she saw an older version of her in him and that scared her. For once she was scared of running away, of losing him.

'Are you okay? You're red literally', TB asked concerned closing in the space between them.

'I'll be fine' she replied hurried taking a few steps back. 'I've seen poverty, i've seen people die, so I exactly don't understand what unaccounted accounts you are talking about but that is all that matters. It is people's strength and it is one's weakness....that is the only way I can get to them'

'Maybe but what'll remain is very different from what you can see. The remains will be of an empty human - you and a lot of regrets for taking lives. Money isn't our problem. We make it. We run for it and we think it's never enough.....and that's the cycle - it never is. And we miss out on the biggest gifts in life - we miss time, we miss youth, we miss family' he stared into her eyes. 'You can go after them all you want and you can go after the money too......but you and I both know this is not about the money'

Sarah's mind was clocking at many memories per millisecond. Voices filled her head and scenes from the war clogged her thoughts. She was fighting them for so long, she was almost tired but her vengeance kept her going and another night she probably wouldn't sleep well.

>> This Snippet is from a book 'My family' worth $20. You could get a free copy by signing up click here to sign up for your free copy

Insecurities (short story) - part 1

When a drop tricked down her cheek, a weak hand struggled to wipe it away, least the crowd around had noticed. A little child hid behind her, playing with her shadow, hoping everything will be okay with Mekha. Only some knew, they had just met and their common hunger united them.

Mekha has lost her identity for years she cannot remember. She's a new person - lost & found, free & lonely, sad & dependable. The luxuries weren't for her and she had little to blame apart from fortune. Subu, the little seeker was her shadow. She followed Mekha everywhere. She lost her way long back....a little on purpose. Her parents were never around and she was ruthlessly abused until it was beyond her years to handle. The irony was she had no idea, with her she carried a little human.

They both looked at the sky, it looked like it would rain soon and they smiled. Another day they may not go hungry...for the rain and the wallet went very well. 

Subu nudged Mekha and muttered under her breadth 'should we beg?' Mekha looked down at Subu's dry face and said, "they must never know that you are in pain, for people come and let you believe they have your back and then snatch it away from you"....."cry but alone"

Little Subu hadn't read her books, she hadn't seen any. She encouragingly smiled though. The sky was about to pour and Mekha reached out to the open sky to feel the pure raindrop once again before she would leave her home town, almost certain her parents weren't to be found.

The insecurities grew as the 2 young girls learnt to survive on the dirty streets.

P.S. With the last series response, I'm encouraged to follow up with another. This is our 2nd short story sequence. This is the first part. To read more keep following or sign up to the blog. If you share it, don't forget to tag me @prithaaash

The story is continued here