The afternoon breeze.

I am resting my head on his stomach. His fingers are lost in conversation with my hair. I am lost in the conversation with this afternoon breeze. The window is open but covered with sheer curtain. Just enough light is entering the room. Just enough sun falling over me so I could play with it. The beautiful patterns it’s creating on the floor are as gorgeous as his softly lit face. I gently turn my head and look up at him. He looks so calm and peaceful just like a crystal clear lake. At that very moment he opens his eyes and I see the ripples below the surface of the lake. We smile that smile of contentment and get back to our worlds.
The curtain is moving with the beats of soft classical music. Every time the breeze is blowing the curtain higher, I get the glimpse of this Neem tree. Its leaves and me, we are on the same team. Playing with sunrays. Our game of light and shadows. 
We are all one right now. Me , him, the sun, the music and this afternoon breeze. We are all part of this be…

Time to turn the page ;

There were times; I spent hours looking at my ceiling fan. There were times when I looked at the walls of my room imagining shapes. There were times when I kept staring at the window pane, watching the day go by. There were times I stood under the shower hoping to get breathless. There were times I would lay in bed with my eyes close, trying to shut the world away. There were times when I plugged in my earphones and listened to deafening music trying to drown my memories out. There were times when I stared at my reflection in the mirror searching for myself. Searching for life in those empty eyes. That was the year 2017 for me.
They say heartbreaks are essential in the self-development. I never really believed it, until recently. Was that depression? Was that me mourning the death of one relationship? Was that me losing a part of myself? Was I washing away my dreams with my tears? Was that just pain? Was that the agony of a broken heart? Was that just me coming to terms with reality? R…

"ME" my first love

“We can all choose to stay with our first love, the one that looks good and will make everyone else happy. We can choose to stay with our second under the belief that if we don’t have to fight for it, then it’s not worth having—or we can make the choice to believe in the third love. The one that feels like home without any rationale; the love that isn’t like a storm—but rather the quiet peace of the night after.”  -
Read this today in an article which talked about the different kinds of love we experience in life and what each of them mean. I have realized that I have experienced two types of love in my life. The first one which I did not understand, and the second one which I fought for thinking that it was the love of my life. Honestly the one that I would love to feel is the love which actually “which isn’t like storm, but rather a quiet peace after. Love which feels like home”.
Where your heart, mind and soul is at ease. Which feels a part of you. Somethin…

from my train window

Fat tree, thin tree, no leaves tree.. Where is the trunk tree, short tree, oh my god huge tree… No no don’t worry. This isn’t my horrible attempt at writing a poem about trees. I am writing this while seated in the train travelling home. And yet again my train journey inspired me to write. As usual I end up sitting in the door watching the world pass by. Its beautiful what all we get to see. Like an art exhibition. One canvas after the other. Each more creative, more fascinating than the previous. Its like marathon of colors. Every crop, every field , every tree with its unique tone. Hues of green, yellow, orange. All possible shades one can imagine. The moment you think you saw it all, totally new shade will surprise you. The shade card doesn’t stop there; sky isn’t far behind mother earth. It will show you stunning tones of crystal clear blue to blazing yellow, tranquil deep orange. The transformation of the of palate will leave you dazed. That not it what you get to see. You would ge…

Just because you can ??

Here is a simple scenario. You have guests in the house. You are chit chatting, enjoying snacks, and having a good family time. The very next moment you 5 year old son goes to the corner of the living room pull his pants down n starts peeing on the wall. What would you do? You would run and stop him from doing that? Scold him and tell him this isn’t an appropriate. Tell him that you have to use washroom, and its bad manners to pull your pants down in-front of people. If you are strict parent then the kid will get smacked (i would do that J). You would be highly embarrassed in front of your guests. You would laugh it out and try to change the topic, right??
So if I have understood it correct all our parents and their parents and their great grand parents have told us all one thing when we were growing. One has to use washroom to go pee and potty. As kids we followed it as well. Even when the desperate times during classes, we asked for teacher’s permission and went to washroom. Did it e…

Educated illiterate..

Today in a random discussion my friend told me about this incident, which made me feel angry to be a girl. And to be a girl in our society. Friend of a friend got married to this guy. Who has a good family background, earns well, and looks decent. Off course it was a arrange marriage, if all these were checked and marked. Girl is equally good and the families were all happy and proud to find such a match for their daughter. Now you would ask what’s the problem then..Problem isn’t in the situation; problem is with people and their small thinking. On the first day after all the griha pravesh and all other vidhis the new bride was asked to get a test done before the big first night. Want to guess what test it was?? Yes, you are right, she was asked to get virginity test done. By her new mother in law and her husband. So called better half, her life partner, her friend. I can’t even imagine what her expression must have been. What thoughts must have been crowding in her head. How she would…

just words

crossing under the bridge a road that only vaguely reminds of what it used to be years ago someone plays the radio I hear a song so long forgotten and it fills me with nostalgia I am not really allowed but I grab at it anyways as I drive through a traffic jam almost geometric the music cuts me from all angles I am reminded of sitting around pavement cutting chai and the jingle of coins we saved for it on bored midnights and blurry pencils we talked of passion and love for lead bricks that make you feel like living the city comes alive suddenly you see it all in black and white lines are emerging out of every side as I realize we might be inside a comic film and the building look like our portfolio with the incomplete coloring  the white bricks on my wall and yours with yellow green trees the shade you forget to draw inspired by what you never understood the words crash against your heart at 3am in the shabby room your parents refused to enter and you learn how to fall and get back on …