When Silence Speaks...

Have you ever been happy for no reason? What an amazing day. I mean, I am usually in a good mood, but today was an exception. I was ecstatic and for absolutely no reason at all. It was what I call being shamelessly happy. I thought it was the usual phase of few mins or an hour, it will pass. But I have been hopelessly happy this whole day. I am up since 8 AM and I have not stopped smiling since. I went for a walk this evening, about 7 miles and I have been hopping, swaying and dancing all the way, bobbing my head side to side, grinning at times. I got a few stares, but who cares! I did try to stay serious and composed for first 5 mins of my walk but I couldn't, so I gave up. During the walk I kept thinking why? Why was I so happy after all? The whole day? But then I thought why should I think so much? One must search reasons for sadness, not for happiness. I just said to myself, screw it, you are happy and that's all that matters, enjoy it.  ...

I have this habit of reading the reviews on a book AFTER I finish reading the book. I don't want reviews to influence my take on the book, so I avoid the gossips before I get to finish the book. The comments on this book and the movie based on this book, disturbed me. I am not saying people should like this book. There are so many books with raving 5 star reviews, that I fail to connect with, and end up giving 1 star. It's fairly normal, some people connect to a story, some don't. You didn't like a story or plot, you didn't find characters convincing, you didn't connect to the story etc..etc.. but that should be it. It shouldn't be because you are prejudiced - racially, sexually, religiously, politically etc..etc..it should be purely objective as a reader. "The Help" is about African Americans working in white households in Jackson, Mississippi, during the early 1960s. It's told primarily from the first-person perspectives of three women: Aibi...

You know why love is weird? Because once you love someone, you will always love them. You can break each other's hearts, but you will never come to hate someone you truly love. Whether it's platonic friendship or familial bonds or intense romantic love; you will eventually know whether you truly loved that person ever.  It's easy to showcase each other's love to the world, wrap it up, put a neat bow tie on it and display it on social media. But only when that love is tested in time, some come through and others fail.  It's not whether the named relationship stands, that defines success of love.  There are so many relations that exist for decades with no love in them. Age of a relation is not always a measure of love; that's measure of commitment, respect and many other things but not wild love which honestly is immeasurable. When in love, you don't compete. There's nothing called winning or losing in love. It's all in, you don't hold back your ca...

An absolutely delicious novel of which I savoured every single page.  After "A man called Ove by Fredrick Backman", this is the first time that I could not stop smiling throughout my read, and trust me you don't get to experience that quite often. So, thank you Elizabeth Gilbert for such an entertaining novel. Vivian moris is the woman I fell in love with along with dozen other characters. Such a colorful novel, and the casual manner in which it's delivered, did the perfect trick. Okay, let me back up a bit. Starting with Vivian's entry into New York back in 1940s, this is how she explains it to Angela, " But this is a city that gets born anew in the fresh eyes of every young person who arrives here for the first time. So that city, that place—newly created for my eyes only—will never exist again. It is preserved forever in my memory like an orchid trapped in a paperweight. That city will always be my perfect New York. " And that is exactly how I felt wh...

Life is not always pretty. Life is almost always filled with mundane chores, boring days, distasteful memories, practical choices etc..etc.. You pretty much dislike or not care for 9 out of 10 people you meet. You feel like the whole day has passed without even realizing it. Everyone's life sucks. Stop thinking that someone else's life is easier, better, happier than yours.  Nobody's life is perfect.  Nobody's life is beautiful. However, what does matter is how we live our mundane uninteresting life. It's when someone has a better perspective towards life, they seem happier. They make life look easier. When they say, smile is the most beautiful make-up one can wear, it holds true for one's outlook on life too. Life is crude and unpredictable. But if we open our arms and breathe in, it just becomes an enjoyable sweet essence. A free spirited, happy, wandering, single, crazy person like me also has her share of boredom or problems or challenges. It's how I dea...

Guilt is a hunter. Fear is a hunter. Shame is a hunter. Fate is a hunter. This novel reaffirmed my faith in good writers. The last few WWII novels that I read left me disappointed, there was always something lacking. I was told by a friend that maybe it's because I am reading too many similar genre books that they don't excite me anymore. But if we have good artist, even the billionth book or painting or movie on the same subject can still make it's audience catch their breath. " The poet Emerson said that when we have worn out our shoes, the strength of the journey has passed into our body" -The Shoe Poet. I liked Ruta's style. How she is making us constantly read every character's thoughts on a given situation. And, yet the story is not stuck in that moment, it keeps moving. To keep switching sides and analyzing conflicting views at the same time, it's a different reading experience.  I loved all the characters, they grow on you. The way she chose to...

I am not a relationship guru. Never was.  And have never understood what it really means either. I believe, no one is an expert when it comes to emotions. Having said that, I also believe in a simple logic, something that applies to all aspects of life, especially relationships -  Communication . It's strange. All the tools and techniques that are forced upon us as kids, is to enable us to communicate. Alphabets, words, languages, speaking, writing, reading, listening, analyzing  - all the skills that we spend a good part of our initial 20 years, focus on our communicative abilities.  And what do we do with it?  For the rest of our lives, we shy away from using those skills in the situations when it's most needed. What's also strange, is compared to olden days, today we have more platforms that enable different mode of communication. You don't want to meet in person, you have FaceTime or video calls. You don't want to see or listen, you can leave voicemails. Or ...

I remember the first time you laid hands on my shoulder, and we both knew instantly that we were made for each other. Well, the first few days was special for both of us. We both, trying to take care of each other and giving special attention to one another.  I remember the glow in your eyes when you had named me - Bagheera. You had a way to make it sound cute. I enjoyed the races with your college friends, your favorite hangout places, those stunts you would pull off. I loved the romantic double rides with your girlfriend, although at times you would have very cheesy conversations, but I loved listening to both of you. I have silently watched you sit alone at the bank of the river, when you would be lost in some distant thoughts. We would sing together when you were happy, ringing my bell and humming weird songs. We both loved the wind against our face on the downhill rides. I could always feel your grip loosen on me, like you were ready to fly.  I had felt a stab of betrayal...

  जो मुहोब्बत का इज़हार किया  तो इलज़ाम लगा नुमाइशगी का | जो टूटे दिल का दर्द छिपाया  तो इलज़ाम लगा  बुज़दिली का | जो हर हाल में इलज़ाम लगना ही है  तो फ़रियाद कैसी और किस से | और जो इलज़ाम ले ही लिया है  तो क्यों ना आशिकी में ही बदनाम हो लें | 

There it was.  I was cleaning my bathroom cabinets and it was hiding in the bottom shelf.   A small plastic pink soap box. I held it and was instantly taken back to year 1999. When I had been in a hostel for the first time in my life. For the first time I was staying away from home, away from my family, all by myself in some unknown place with strangers. Not until 7 years later that I finally moved out of home and started living independently, did I experience that same nauseated feeling again.  But that day, that moment, it was going to be the first time in my life, staying away from my family, and first’s are always special. It’s funny, how this pink soap box takes me on a time travel right back to that moment. The school was just about 15 minutes walk from our home. But that year they had some summer camp, that required kids to stay for 15 days in school’s hostel. I remember my uncle and mom dropping me off near the hostel gate.  It’s...

Just like any other bridge, this one plays a role of connecting you and me. Some are brand new, very inviting, clean and pure, presenting to be strong, yet to get exposed to the harsh reality of life. Some have weathered in many seasons, with few bars of railings missing, few broken planks, yet they stand strong, like huge metal bridges.  Some are reinforced with fresh materials every few years, so we stay connected strong and safe for entire lifetime.  Some are beyond repair, standing there rusty and broken. Not because it's impossible to fix the gap, but just waiting for equal support from the other side to mend it. Some were meant to serve one another just once. The need to cross that bridge never arose again, doesn't mean we don't remember how important that bridge was in our journey. To new and old, deep and shallow, strong and weak, connected and broken friendships, I am grateful to have known you one way or another.  Happy Friendships Day! 🍻

"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...