When Silence Speaks...

"Hmm. Papa, I think the sun doesn't know swimming." she said crossing her arms leaning on the wall. "Oh really. Why do you think that?" He asked amusingly. "Look over there. It always ends up drowning in the ocean. Look there." She said glowing in her pink dress and pink helmet, her pink bike leaning against her. "Alright. But it shows up every morning right?" He asked. "Yeeeaaahhhh. Oh oh, I know, maybe it actually goes to bed in the ocean. So, sun knows swimming." She said excitedly. "Hmm. Close enough. It says goodbye to us, so we can go to bed, and then goes to other side of the earth to wake others like us up." "So, sun never sleeps?" She asked inquisitively. "Nope. And neither does it swim or drown in the ocean. You will learn more when we start reading the solar system story books." "Hmmm. Papa, can we touch the sun?" "No we cannot. It's very hot and very far

Can you ever KNOW the people you really love? And how much of what you already know about them is true? “In the dark they are careful of each other, as if they know they are fragile, as if they know they can break.”  This book has compressed a lot of strong topics and deep emotions into just twelve chapters, but the 2 key things that I connected to was Ng's style of portraying society's constant persuasion to blend in and the bitter-sweet sibling bond.  “ What made something precious? Losing it and finding it. ”  Of course it revolves around racial biases, which you can relate to the most if you are an immigrant or as they call an alien in America. But I looked at it a bit differently. To me it felt like the constant urge to fit in when you really didn't want to,  it was unrelated to mixed race or immigrants.  It was just how Ng described the way of the world, the silent agreement that no one felt the need to spell out. Just wear this or do this or say this because

How does it feel, To not know what you are waking up to? To be unsure of the promises you make? To be a mere audience of your own life? To finally notice all the things you took for granted? To just stand as a watchful spectator to the events around you? To have been forced into a new way of life? To stand at the edge of the cliff untethered? To feel the wind against your face not knowing if there's a storm coming? To be just a speckle of hope in this grand scheme of things? To be forced to show humility? To have finally been shown your place in this cosmos? Well, call me crazy, but for me I can say, it feels good. Infact, it's quite liberating!

He sat there silently feeling the breeze. He wasn't chatty anymore like before. "I definitely am getting old" he thought. Life had stripped him bit by bit, but he never budged. He always found reasons to wake up to another day and continue. It felt like just yesterday, when he was this delicate little thing, protected under the shadows of his elders. He has seen so many seasons now that he had stopped keeping count of them long ago. The rings in his trunk no longer accounted for his true age. He still remembers the first thunderstorm he was in, how he had tried to hold on to his precious 6 leaves. And how he was devastated to see 2 of his leaves left battered at the end of it. He was overcome with so much grief that he had spent the whole day with slouching shoulders, his back bent till his head touched the earth. But then, with the ray of next sunlight, he had slowly revived. Now he thinks of that day and smiles at his ignorance and innocence. That was the w

"Everyone has a thousand wishes before a tragedy, but just one afterward." Of all the atrocities of mankind, I find rape and molestation the worst. I can read or watch crimes related to murders; even the psychotic nasty serial killing kinds without pondering over them much after the fact. But physical abuse is something that continues to linger in my head for a while. Maybe because it truly is worst than murder as it doesn't end with the act. It continues to live and breathe till the victim is alive. 10 days, 20 months, 40 years or even 6 decades later, it doesn't fade. And to describe that act, is a delicate matter in itself. Backman does an amazing job at this. The way he brings future reflection of past into the present, delicately brushing on the  minutest detail yet resonating that horror, I was moved. He did not have to describe the gory details of the act, but just enough for us to feel the victim's pulse, I think that is the piece that touched me th

"So, where next?" he asked looking at her attentively. "hmm..Don't know" she said looking out of the window  seemingly distracted . He sipped his coffee and continued "You must have thought something. You need to have some plan. You can't carry on like this forever. You know that right?" She was lost in thoughts, drumming her fingers on the handle of her coffee mug - "hmm" she hummed. The cafe was playing some acoustic version of "When we were young". In an irritated tone he called out "Chloe? Chloe, are you listening to me?" She shook her head and said "Yeah, yeah, am here." looking back at him. "What are you running from? Why are you doing this?" he said in a concerned tone. "Oh come on! Stop being so dramatic. I don't need another "mother" right now. " she said air quoting. "Alright. Alright" he said throwing his hands in the air "But just help m

"Call me by your name and I will call you by mine" . Yes. ' Let me think of the right words .' is what I kept telling myself for last one month, trying to put off writing this review, but I think it's time. I already bought a hardcopy of this book to add to my personal library. Yes, that's how much I loved it. This was the first audiobook I listened to when I started with Audible in May this year. I wanted to try some simple book to see if I would even enjoy Audible (considering I am a huge fan of books I can hold vs digital) and this book had good review for narration. So boom, I downloaded it and am glad I did. I don't know if it's the story itself or Armie Hammer's voice or the combination of both that made this love story so enticing.  I don't read much of romantic novels, so I am not sure what other good novels or writers are out there in this genre. But Aciman definitely has my heart for "Call me by your name." 

Tell me my love Will you cradle me in your arms And rest my tired soul Just one more time Will you caress my wrinkled forehead And take away all my worries Just one more time Will you sing that soothing lullaby And let me sleep in your lap Just one more time  Will you let the moonlight shine On my dark sleepless nights Just one more time Tell me my precious mountains Will you call me to your abode Just one more time Tell me my love.

I know I am a weirdo in many ways.  But today I was made aware of another weirdness that I otherwise thought to be absolutely normal. I got one of those promotional offer call this afternoon. The sales guy started telling about some deal with TV channels. I cut him off midway and said, "I don't have a TV , thank you." It was like he couldn't believe my words. He asked surprisingly "You don't have a TV? So what do you do for entertainment?"  I laughed. I said "I do painting and other activities. I don't need TV." And he went on "But what about your family? Parents, husband and others." It was clear from his voice that he was slightly irritated, but trying hard to stay composed. I said "I stay alone. I don't have any family here." He murmured and disconnected; obviously not a great sales man. He clearly did not believe me and thought I was making stuffs up to avoid him. I murmured "But dude, I was

I thought I knew love. I thought I had seen and felt true love. In the warmth of my Papa's hug. In the comfort of my Amma's lap. In the tears of my Sister's good-byes. In the happiness of my Love's smiles. Until YOU kissed me. I don't think anyone's ever kissed me so sincerely. You, who didn't even know me too well then, somehow felt like kissing me so lovingly. I am glad that I clicked this picture.  With time, you will grow up and you will lose this sense of true selfless love. Until some innocent heart will remind you of it, just like you reminded me. This is a memory I will keep to eternity.  In times of distress, this will remind me of how I felt. Kids under the age of 3, are so innocent. They live in the moment and it's hard for us to get a smile or kiss or hug from them forcefully. They do what they want. And so did you, that day.  I was heading back to Canada and was trying to grab a selfie with you when you turned t

It rained that day. It poured so hard, that I didn't know who was more heartbroken, the sky or me? It felt like the clouds were roaring louder and louder so they could mask away my screams. The rain drops slashed my cheeks so fiercely, that my tears no longer stung. Even the boom of clattering thunder seemed less intimidating than the sound of my thumping heart. Drenched in rain and mud, I stood for hours, my hands hanging by my side, my face held up towards the sky and my eyes closed. The sky poured it's heart out washing down all my pain into the earth. It was like the sky had dissolved itself to touch me, console me and wipe away my tears. I could feel the damp chill pierce into my bones and yet the warmth of my heart was melting away all my anguish. With every passing minute I could feel my sufferings ease drop by drop. I stood there feeling the nature caress my deep wounds. I felt one with the universe.

I feel hollow within, like my insides are twisting and churning. For some reason, my legs don't move although my mind is asking me to walk. They tremble sending shivers through my body. Why am I so anxious? What am I nervous about? Wasn't I supposed to cross this bridge long ago? Maybe I should give it some more thought? I always knew I had to cross this bridge, someday. I have pushed this out for long enough now. It's time I took that step. I take a long breath in. I close my eyes and feel my heart beat. I let my decision sink in. I feel my muscles relax. My panic fades away.  I open my eyes, light hearted, and finally walk across that bridge. The struggle is in those few minutes when you think you have made the decision and when you have actually made the decision. Once you know it in your heart that you need to do something, rest is all just mechanics. Crossing the bridge is like just another walk. We all stand at such crossroads in life. We all have those scary bridges