When Silence Speaks...

I spent last 3 days of my long weekend with 3 different kids of slight different ages but all under the age of 5 yrs. One 8 months, another almost 3 yrs and the last almost 5 yrs. I am always fascinated by kids, their outlook towards life and their definition of happiness. And I have written more than once about how they impact my thought process. But here’s few new take aways from my weekend spent with these kids. What’s on the inside is what’s outside. You cannot train or force the babies/kids less than 5 years, to like or dislike someone. You can try, but they will hardly follow your instructions. They will smile at you if they want to. Else they will just walk past you never caring for any consequences.  They are selfish, and they don’t hide it. They will love you, because you will play with them. Or because you will give them goodies. They will do what you say if they want something you are offering, and they aren’t ashamed of displaying selfishness openly. For th...

“Damn, heart break sucks!" Remy said handing over the cold beer to Zayn. "That it does!" sighed Zayn. They both were sitting on their camping chairs by the lake. They had thought of fishing that afternoon, but then decided to just sit back and relax. "Hey, you think it will hurt less next time?" Remy asked opening his bottle. "Oh, easy boy, there's already a next time!?" Zayn asked raising his eyebrows. "You know what I mean." Remy nudged. "Well, even if there's a next time, why are you already thinking of a heart break?" Zayn asked taking a sip. "I mean, you have been through multiple relationships, what's it like? Does it get any easier?" Remy prodded further. "Dude, I have had just 2 breakups. Am no relationship expert." Zayn scoffed. "That's still one more than me." Remy laughed. "Hmm. I won't say it gets easier, it's always painful. It's just that, the fi...

She shook her head fervently Thinking it will force the doors shut Doors to the darkest closets of her memories But the harder she tried More fiercely did they unravel She forced her eyes shut Thinking she could escape her fears Fears from those memories coming to life But the tighter she closed  More vehemently did they get rooted She held her breath tight Thinking she could end up in a better place Place away from these memories and pain But the longer she held More achingly did she face the reality When she could no longer  Shut them out Hold them captive Fight them Escape them She took a long deep breath And finally embraced them. All those dark memories and pain All those fears and angst All those years of hiding and fleeing Everything was washed away In that one soothing deep breath And when she opened her eyes She felt as light as a feather With all those closets wide open She freed her heart from sufferings She saw for who she was And the life embraced her back!

How long has it been that you have written a letter or a postcard? A handwritten note? Or received one?  Forever? No, not the birthday or congratulations greeting cards, where you have everything spelled out for you. But a blank letter where you are supposed to fill up the pages. And no, not emails or texts or posts on social websites. But using a pen and paper with your crappy or beautiful handwriting curving the letters on an actual paper.  It was forever for me. Until couple of years back, when I started writing postcards from places I traveled, to people that mattered to me. And I did write letters to my loved ones once in a while. If you haven't done it in recent past, then yeah, it's slightly hard. Not only that, at times, my actual handwriting seems like an ant has dipped it's feet in ink and danced on the paper (especially when I write in languages other than English). But also because writing on paper is different from typing an online content. You see, online, i...

"I love youuuu!!" I screamed over the FaceTime call. "I love you toooo!!" came an echo, in an equally excited voice.  "I love you more Amma" I said laughing at her exaggerated reply. "I love you beta" she said giving a dramatic smile.  My mom and I speak in Kannada, but there are times like this when we get all dramatic with english dialogues. And then she goes on to say in Kannada "Yeah, yeah, this is what we will do is it? We will keep telling one another I love you for rest of our lives? You will not find anyone else for yourself to say this??"  I give her a flying kiss saying "Oh, I don't need anyone else when I have you." But then I get naughty and ask her "Have you ever told Papa "I love you"?" When she does not answer, I ask again, "Tell na Amma" She has that cute blushing smile when she says "Yes, I have told him, many a times" "No, not in Kannada. I am asking, have you ...

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 ...