BraiN's DraiN..

"Oh Hello! Ye kya hai, zara dekh ke chalo! Sorry bolane ki BHi tameez nahi”.. I barked at the guy who dashed by me on the road. A usual scene that plays out during the peak hours of commute. All of us have done this to someone at some point. We either abuse or speak rudely to a stranger without even giving him or her a chance to utter a word. But the  question here is, are these tiny things worth losing our temper ? Do we all have such enormous egos that anything and everything affects us? Or are we just perpetually angry and we keep finding outlets for our pent up frustrations? A friend of mine once asked me, “Why are all Mumbaikars so angry?” My instant reply to him/her was, “No, we are not. What makes you say that?”. His reply was sort of an eye opener for me. He said “Whenever I have traveled in public transport in Mumbai, I have always witnessed at least  one heated argument or met one angry person”. I would have loved to deny this, but I could not. Because being fro...

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...

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 re...

“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.”  - www.consciousreminder.com 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 par...

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. Y...

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. D...

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. Ho...

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 a...

Who are you You have found your way to the center of my life, to the core of my being & Yet your existence is so subtle Who are you You can soothe me so gently Disturb me so completely Show me so clearly hidden aspects of my own & yet you carry me beyond borders of my dreams Who are you My most intimate friend Most remote shining star, Twinkling and always sparkling & yet you remain so silent so constant Who are you You who leaves deep within me & still not knowing.

Its 4 th  of jan .. yeah i know after some hours its going to be my b'day.. but i wish it was the same like every year when i am all excited about tomorrow being my b'day. But no it isn't same this year cos  loads of reasons are there. I just want to finish tomorrow as soon as possible. Reason being that i hate to pretend. I hate to do things when i don't want to do them. What's the point to have that fake smile on my face, which i will have to put, cos there would be people wishing me and they would expect me to be happy cos thats the way everyone is on there b'days. I am missing my collage days, all my b'days in collage have been great. Not that i have done anything great. But the whole fun is when u enter the class and everybody starts singing for u and everyone comes n gives u that warm hug. I m missing them all. Miss them singing in every lecture on that day. Miss them singing for the cake. But tomorrow no one would sing for me. It would like any othe...

  I haven’t been to many live performances and especially not classical one. But today I found myself sitting very early in the third row of Ravidra Bharti Natya Ghurha. It’s was a dance performance about Ahilya (one of the panchakanya in our mythology) Now you are wondering why would be so eager and excited to watch a performance based on her life, right? Hold on we will come to that soon. So after a bit of a talk the curtains are raised and the show begins. Few young girl walk on the stage gracefully they perform on interesting piece of music and the narration in the background. But I am not happy yet, coz I still searching for her. it goes on with different girls doing there bit on the stage but she is still not there. The lights go off on the dramatic musical beat, a small beam of light falls on a figure just highlighting a graceful, elegant so perfect silhouette. Slowly with another dramatic music lights come up, stage is all lit up and there I see her. That beautiful gl...

Imagine if mirrors were to reflect your characteristics and not your actual physical form, what you think you would see as your reflection. I do know what I will see. I will see Nenita as my reflection. She is a friend of mine from my new office. Now you are confused as to why will I see her, right? You will get an answer to that just read on. All my life (I mean not that I am too old, but still)I have meet people who had similar habits or few similar likings. So I was always very curious as to why would that happen? Isn’t every human being supposed to be unique?  Then I was introduced to the existence of something called sun- signs. Something which segregates people as per their birth dates. I read a book about it to know more and found it difficult to believe that so many millions on people across the world are just categorized in few sun-signs.  So I just left it there at the back of my mind. Then in my college I meet a girl who was born on the same day as me. She w...

With bright shining sun,  the glittering sand & the clear blue sky, I miss the golden sunset upon your face, I miss you in Summer. With the darkened days,  the soft green carpets & falling crystals of raindrops I miss the sparkling dew in your eyes I miss you in Rains. With the frozen trees the snow kissed mountain tops & long cozy shivering nights I miss the wet warmth of your embrace I miss you in Winter. With the burning sun and the shimmering full moon I miss you with the only hope To be together soon.

Adorable is a word that’s just not good enough to describe the way she is. A perfect surprise package. Like if you meet her for the first time,  she’ll seem so shy, so in her own cocoon, like a butterfly. Like s omeone  you wont know what they are all about . As if those colors on the wings all are hidden . Yes, butterfly would be the best way to explain what she is. The one you feel like taking care of, the one you find so fragile that you are afraid even to touch. But you always want it around, refreshing & sparkling, spreading colors everywhere. You will never be able to read her, just like you cannot guess the trail of a butterfly. In fact she is one with the qualities of bunny rabbit. She would do something and by the time you realize its her, she would nicely put on face “u think its me” with a big wide innocent eyes. I never thought I would ever have this kind of motherly feeling so soon in my life. But she sure made me feel like a mother. Ya that’s...

Mind, its all about the confusion. i always keep wondering , if could name mind as some thing else. then "Tornado", or "mixer grinder" or any crappy combination of alphabets like "tsfjsgfjs". Some name that u can’t decipher the meaning of it I mean how much one has to try, how much one has to think, and how much actually falls in place any which ways. and why should one even try so hard when u know it wont go the way you would want it to. Mind, just a pi9ce of gooey mess. You know what's worse? The preconceived notion. That’s the worse thing of all. Coz that reduces the tiny little bit of scope u have to improve on anything. to convince someone that what they might have assumed you to be , u aren't that way at all, and its the situation put u in that position and made u be this way. Change is what we humans are scared of. Change is something we are skeptical about. And yet change is what we crave for. but even when we know change is inevitable , ...

My so called last day of college, when I went to check my final year results. And that’s the day I fell for him all over again. Ya, the only love of my five years of architectural course. My love, my friend, my idol, my mentor. May be at the end of my life I will forget everyone I meet in my college but would never ever forget him, Kausik Mukhopadhyay . It’s fun to recollect his first impression, someone who looks kind of artist, or some crazy looking guy who hardly falls under the so called conventional definition of a professor. He is the one who introduced us to the perspective of our course, the one who gave us the glimpse of what it is like to get into this college. The one who made us believe that we are good enough to be in there. And for sure the one who built the foundation for us so that we could built ourselves over it. He is like the Sun, the source of love, encouragement . Every time you meet him you would always find your share of love. His just that warm smile wo...

I love rains. Coz the way raindrops fall on the leaves, the earth, the roads, leaving everything rejuvenated, Coz I can sit at my window n see the rain and still have some sparkles of drops falling over my face. Cos the way I can lie down in my bed, all cozy in my sheets, and listen to the heavy rains outside and fall asleep listening to it. Cos the way I stand under the shower and suddenly chilled water falls on my head, leaving goosebumps all over me, Cos the way some bird comes for shelter in the window n flutters its wings in patterns, taking different shapes just to dry itself, Coz I have a sip of hot coffee and the combination of rain and coffee seems to be just awesome, (vodka for instance) Cos the way my hair are wet n the water trickles down on my bare back, the same way it trickles down the window glass, Cos the way I wanna snuggle bellow the sheets, trying to balance between the warmth and cold air around, Cos the way kiss seems to be as perfect as it...

Sometimes I wonder even the people u know the most or u feel it that u know them the most have some side of them which is totally unknown to u. And when u encounter that side of them u wonder if that’s real them. u start thinking or u even feel bad cos even when u so close u still didn’t know something about them. U feel bad and disappointed for not knowing it. Ur brains keeps wondering whether u aren’t worth knowing it, but isn’t that way. We the human beings are so complex so complex with our emotions. After knowing so many people in life I have learnt one thing even though u love someone, or u are strongly bonded with someone there is always a part of u which is just for urself. It isn’t necessary to make someone a part of it cos those our ur moments, ur thoughts, that’s something u have decided to keep to urself. And today when I sit and wonder what it is that I have kept to myself, what it is that no one knows apart from me, I m not able answer it. Is it really that, or I ...

Here I finished the most awaited book “Five point someone” finally. Not that I m a big dieheart fan of chetan bhagat but I read all the other books by him apart from the very 1 st one. I was introduced to him by Nikhil who wanted me to read ‘One Night @ Call centre’ (so he gifted me that one). Was a good book worth a read (and I read it twice). But this post isn’t about chetan or his books. This is about my fantasy, a lifelong fantasy which never came true. My fantasy to stay in a hostel in my student life. Isn’t that amazing, staying on your own, away from your family taking care of your own things. The freedom of taking decisions, managing your own finance, being on your own in all ups and downs. All this sounds super exciting to me. I always kept dreaming as to how it would have been if I had a chance to stay in a hostel. Not as paying guest and all but being an hostelite. Being under those restrictions, rules still finding your way out, breaking the deadlines. I strongly believe...

Don’t know why but surfed through the old snaps of mine. Old as in not real old ones, just last 5-6 yrs. Or to be precise the memories of my architectural course. Was too good of a fun seeing those once again. Everyone looked so different, we all looked like kids. The 1 st year photos are marvelous cos that was the beginning where we looked like as if all of us were from all different corners. New to all this, new to architecture , new to each other Popping our little heads out of our own cocoons. And trying to become one class, trying to become KRVI’ts (my college KRVIA) the second year snaps are fun, we actually look like pals for ages, as we belong to one big family. So innocent we were. There was n’t much of a group-lism by then. But by the end of third year we had made our small small groups, and still were a class when we had to be a class. With time we knew our differences, we knew our likings, we knew our preferences too, but on the process of knowing all of this the idea of...