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My 100th Blog Post

Thursday, March 26, 2015

So here I am, celebrating THANKSGIVING, on the eve of my 100th blog post. With a trifle over 60,000 pageviews, my achievement may come short compared to those more incisive and versatile bloggers in the arena, but when I take a deeper look within myself, remembering the thousands of words I had written so far, my journey from nothing to something has been quite a satisfaction, and definitely a handbook of lessons for times to come.

I started blogging 3 years back as a medium to express what I felt, what I thought I felt, what I should have felt and ultimately the things I never could feel. Though it all initiated with round-eyed rhymes, but I’m glad I got more greedier and expanded it to haiku, sonnets, articles, short stories and some flecks of photography and sketches here and there and entertain everyone who manages to find out some time from their busy schedules to take a look at my blog. I owe it all to every single person who ever meant to influence my life in some form or the other, either knowingly or unknowingly. Blogging didn’t just help me figure out the unrequited riddles, but also eased me up by giving gems in the form of fellow bloggers. Probably, that’s when I first learnt the importance of a proficient blogging circle.

Unforgettably, comments, like anchor, kept me stable even in the most rickety days of my life. Giving me hope to give it one last shot and eventually, I’m where I should have been. Love you all for being such great readers and supporters. Thank you for your moralses and feedbacks and I seriously wish that my blog keeps inspiring and entertaining you all through its course.

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Somewhere between each consecutive post, I grew not just as a writer but a person too (and definitely in age as well). From a clean-shaved toddler to a heavy-bearded graduate, I was called the guy who talked older than his age. There is yet a long way to go and even the ‘100 Post’ milestone feels like a new beginning to an adventure that is both thrilling and a fulfilling one.

But wait! The merriment doesn’t ends here. Just 5 days more and ALIBI, my debut anthology, turns 1. And I have planned to present everyone with a return gift as a matter of thanks for being a part of my celebrations. I have added a download link to the end of this post. Enjoy the free gift and keep visiting. Thank you again.

Cuisine Delights #Farmoresingapore

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Singapore, to be sure, is by far the most prominent pick for the dream destination of all travel buffs. Not only Asia, but its tourist attractions, orbital, multi-lane expressways, scenic stops as well as the scrumptious cuisines have pulled in people from all over the world. As luck would have it, I got a chance to visit the world’s most desired tourist destinations on a family trip a few years back.

The road route from Malaysia to Singapore is an absolute marvel. Fast-moving and naturally-scenic roads and highways aren’t something one can usually see in Far East. Ships and dockyards welcomed our way as we entered Singapore from Malaysia. Though there was good amount of traffic on the road, but the local monitoring and maintenance systems, in either case, turned it into fast-paced.

It had been raining since morning. As the hotel drew closer, the smiles on our faces started fading away as we were apprehensive of sight-seeing in such heavy rains. The locals ascertained us to not to worry as it was normal there. We had our breakfast buffet at the hotel itself. The best thing about breakfast of our hotel was that they served everything but the stuffed Indian food. Fresh fruits, cereals, toasts, rice, tea-coffee-milk-juice as per your own requirements. We finalized only the breakfast in our tour package. Being foodies ourselves, we wanted to feast our eyes with their food cultures and relishing our taste buds. “Being in Singapore, you need to worry about food.” The guide assured us that no matter where we are in Singapore we are likely to come across some great food courts and restaurants in the locality. Singapore being an island country, the best had to be its sea food. I was astonished to see the variety of food available there that included the Chinese, Malaysian, Indian, Japanese and Middle East cuisines.

By the time we had our breakfast, our cab arrived. So while we were rubber-necking, it started raining heavily, yet again. We visited the Singapore Flyer and the Oak Meadow Park having our ordinary snacks all along the way. Our next visit was to the renowned Merlion Park and we were genuinely charged up. The Mythical Merlion is a symbolic icon on the banks of Marina Bay and the catch is just stunning. It was raining buckets as we reached. But still we made haste to at least have a selfie with the Merlion. Alas, it was covered and was running some renovation. We were disheartened. But to our luck there was also a miniature version of the same; The Merlion Cub. We took a pic alongside it and then headed to the wonderful food courts around and we ordered some. Sitting alfresco, we had our meal and relished the panorama of the Marina Bay Sands (a 3-towered hotel and also the World’s second most expensive building) capped by the SkyPark (the ship shaped vanishing end pool) across the Marina Bay.

There is something no man has developed resistance to, as yet. Something that makes even the most herculean prostrate in submission. And that’s what our next stop was. Our guide also took us to some heavenly chocolate factories and outlets. What could be better than some cheap but savoring chocolates? We bought our quota of chocolates, filling bag after bag, also taking some for our friends and relatives. My dad had no idea walking back with cheap, but yummy delights could cost him so much.

For dinner, we went to Serangoon Gardens. It is famous for its abundance of restaurants, quirky bars and hole-in-the-wall coffee shops that attract not only its residents, but also foodies and tourists alike. One of the most prominent hawker centers in Singapore, the space is almost always bustling with crowds. Almost all Singaporean street favorites are represented here, many in multiple guises. Also, they have reasonable prices and do not skimp on taste in the expensive Singaporean Cuisines.

The following day, they took us to visit to the far-famed Singapore Zoo. It was raining uninterrupted. For those who are planning a visit to Singapore, it may come up as a surprise to you that there are areas where it rains of a sudden for most part of the day. They have specially put up the sign boards displaying “heavy rain zone xyz meters ahead”. And so I thought our zoo trip too would be ruined. But for our luck it didn’t rain while we visited those unruffled-beasts. Soon after the tram car dropped us after taking an entire round of the massive 69 acre zoo, it started raining heavily. So the animal show was called off. We sat there and had a hand at the local café foods.

The evening itinerary comprised of shopping at the local market. In Singapore’s shopping centers and malls, there are also eateries for the foodies, cinemas for the movie buffs, and lots of shopping bargains for the shopaholics. With 22 shopping malls, and 6 departmental stores all along a single road and still counting, Orchard Road is the ultimate shopping haven. One mall rolls into another; linked underground. We went to the Mustafa Centre for electronic and Orchard Road for other shopping and stuff and then straight headed to the ‘Food Festival @Little India’ to have a hand at the Singaporean made Indian foods. We were first served with pre-meal double-boiled soup. Next came the chapatti, daal, mix veg, cheese-chilli and some ‘Jain Foods’, not forgetting Kheer and Ras-malai (the North Indian sweet dishes).

Choosing one out of several appetizing meals for a foodie is so rude and impolite, especially when you have literally tried around half of the favorites by the StayFarEast. When there is Eggs Benedict and Kong Bak Pau (Asian sliders) by 40Hands café, or the Madeleines and Hazelnut Coffee Muffins by Chye Seng Huat Hardware and when there are abundance of restaurants, quirky bars and hole-in-the-wall coffee shops that attract not only its residents, but also foodies and tourists alike. The one I savored the most was the oyster omelet – briny whole oysters tossed together in an egg batter then pan-fried to perfection. Ang Sa Lee Fried Oyster draws longs queues – little wonder, since its version of the dish is crispy on the outside, and fluffy on the inside.

We north Indians are really obsessed with parathas. And before our trip we were concerned of how we’d survive without our own food there. A day without parathas and we feel homesick. But to our surprise, this desire too was easily accomplished by the Singaporean cuisine. The Roti Paratha House’s Chicken Floss Paratha with sinking your teeth into fluffy and light shreds of dried chicken and The Paratha Place’s Paratha Benedict we’d see Paratha topped with poached egg, turkey ham and Indian hollandaise sauce. East meets west doesn’t get any better than this. And then went to have another one of those Chye Seng Huat Hardware’s Hazelnut Coffee Muffins. Because once a foodie always a foodie.

Sooner or later, everything good comes to an end. Along with such a rattling trip, I thought the great grubs too would come to an end and I will go home with the remnant memories alone. Sadly, I still wanted to savor some more cookeries. I thought I wouldn’t be able to. But hey! The Singapore airport has some of the best shopping brands and food courts you will ever come across (and that includes chocolates too).

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Tuesday, March 24, 2015

No human ever born has been born without the apprehension of food. The mere sight of food is enough for us to decide what would taste good and what not. In short, ever human is a born foodie. And so am I.
KELLOGG’S WAALE GUPTAJI prepares some wonderful mouthwatering recipes and they sure know how to whip up the perfect breakfast for any occasion. I checked around a hundred and sixteen/seventeen recipes and I’d definitely love to visit their house for my nashta (breakfast) of NUTTY CHOCO BERRY CORNFLAKES and FRUITY YOGURT CUP.
NUTTY CHOCO BERRY CORNFLAKES, as the name states, is an irresistible blend of raspberry and chocolate that, by all odds, creates a breakfast like no other. Raspberry jam, crunchy chocolate chips and mixed roasted nuts serve the flavor that you’d have never tasted before, not forgetting the crispy cornflakes. What’s more shocking that I came to know about is that it takes a mere 2 minute effort to prepare this heavenly dish.
Being crispy and delicious at the same time is what they say is the purpose of this recipe. Your eyes will bulge the moment your taste buds relish it for the first time.
Along with this, my semi-liquid, but yet healthy part of the breakfast would be FRUITY YOGURT CUP. It’s a mouthwatering cup of nutrition in a single blend. Just like the previous one, it too takes around 2 minutes for preparation, but the results are just APPETIZING.  It is healthy fruits and curds mixed together with a little pinch of the vanilla essence. Also, cornflakes is something that should never be missed in the Gupta family’s breakfast.
Fruits and curd being healthy and light, serve the purpose of what we call a perfect breakfast. Being a north Indian, this is what should go and replace my morning supper in place of the stuffed prathas. Also, the prathas consume way too much time compared to this and are also too ghee-ed. But these recipes, on the other hand, are just perfect for people of all age groups. Even if you are a regular gym attender, you would be already aware of the importance of such a healthy and nutritious diet. Breakfast could never have been any healthier.
Using just the things we come across in our everyday lives, not buying anything specific for a healthy diet. GUPTAJI, for sure, is born with magic in his hands. So if you too are health conscious just like more of the other subscribers of Guptaji, do have a look at the list of his recipes and choose what suits your needs of a perfect nutritional diet just like I chose NUTTY CHOCO BERRY CORNFLAKES along with FRUITY YOGURT CUP.

When Happiness is a Verb

Saturday, March 21, 2015

  • Happiness is travelling
  • Happiness is an unexpected text from a friend when you are feeling low and all you want is someone to punch you for being uncool when you have such groovy friends with you
  • Happiness is meeting friends after years and having tea and pakodas like you used to have when you were kids
  • Happiness is receiving a GOOD NIGHT text when you feel insomniac
  • Happiness is when a new born baby responds to your smile with one of his own
  • Happiness is your dog welcoming you every evening you return from work
  • Happiness is receiving a voice note on WHATSAPP
  • Happiness is being a part of your school cricket team
  • Happiness is when a new tooth suddenly starts appearing after the previous one fell down
  • Happiness is getting books (and by books I mean novels, not technical stuff) on your birthday
  • Happiness is when you ramble carefree because you know your family will handle all your problems no matter what
  • Happiness is your first ride
  • Happiness is when your height traverses that of your parents’
  • Happiness is late night Coca Cola and Kurkure in hostel
  • Happiness is your first salary
  • Happiness is when a beggar kisses your hand in return of a one-time supper
  • Happiness is when India wins against Pakistan (cricket match)
  • Happiness is getting proposed by the one you love
  • Happiness is when you know your parents are proud of you
  • Happiness is having a new haircut
  • Happiness is realizing how melodious the silence can be at times
  • Happiness is having facial hair
  • Happiness is when you start receiving invitation cards under your name
  • Happiness is sharing your problems with your pet rat
  • Happiness is getting tagged as a good friend
  • Happiness is purchasing a gift for your family with your first salary
  • Happiness is when you don’t meet your friends for years and still know in your heart that they won’t leave
  • Happiness is growing old with your loved ones
  • Happiness is getting mocked by your best friends
  • Happiness is when your friends call HER by your name
  • Happiness is being praised for your works
  • Happiness is watching “Impractical Jokers”
  • Happiness is realizing how beautiful your smile is
  • Happiness is when your friends trust you even if your decisions seem to be against their welfares
  • Happiness is being the dearie (laadla) of the family
  • Happiness is a new comment on the blog
  • Happiness is the aroma of soil after a heavy downpour
  • Happiness is being the reason to someone’s smiling face
  • Happiness is peddling your bicycle faster than a car
  • Happiness is watching your father being sarcastic
  • Happiness is understanding that you cannot win always and blackballs are equally significant
  • Happiness is getting a free voucher
This post is written for Coca Cola India

For the love of FIRSTS

The FIRSTS are always the most memorable. Be it the first bicycle ride, the first school trip, first love and so on. Firsts have always attracted me the most for there is always a first time. After I returned back home after riding a bicycle for the first time, my parents thought I just had a nasty fight with a friend and further scolded me for the same. The first time I went on a school trip, I felt it was the most beautiful day of my life and that after the trip, my life came to an end and the first time I fell in love, it changed my life forever.

I remember there dominated a landline at our home for decades. The bulky, unportable and dull-voiced telephone set that used to lean against its seat like an obese tycoon does to his throne no matter what. We often used to see gringos using a wireless phone with an antenna over the TV. It was only later when dad bought it that I came to know it was called a Cordless. Buying a cordless felt ne plus ultra as we were the only ones in our locality to have been owning it. We could use it within a few meters from the torso. We thought it was the final of developments in the telecommunication field and we were finally owning it.

Our suppositions were proved awry when years later, mobile phones were first released in India. Our first mobile phone owned by dad was a deep-chested, heavy, black and white Nokia 1100 worth Rs 5000 gifted by mom. It brought along a majestic feel with it. We could now talk to anyone, anywhere and anytime. The game of snakes was sheer delight and I often used to play it sweeping under the rug. I oft wondered when I’d have a mobile phone of my own.

By the time I reached college, transformation came by and I got a 1 sq. in. screened, Nokia 2626 and it felt like a real masterstroke. It was somewhat similar in size to my dad’s phone though mine was a COLORED one. Never thought one day we’d be talking to our girlfriends over the phone. I once thought of transferring some data to the phone that comprised of a 50kb pic of mine and a ringtone of my favorite song. Such trivial free space was all I could manage. An inbuilt radio was the real source of entertainment. And even that felt great. My first personal phone. Back then, I was staying in a PG with 6 other guys of the same age group. On weekends, we used to sit together while working on our assignments and practical files turning on the radio in my new phone. Unbelievable that I used to flaunt over a phone that supported no memory cards and had an internal storage capacity in kbs.

Story of Tublu: Book Review

Monday, March 16, 2015

Title: Story of Tublu
Author: Jahid Akhtar
Publisher: Lifi Publications, New Delhi, 2015
Pages: xii + 204           Price: Rs200

Cover: Beginning with the outward appearance of the book, the cover looks genuinely enthralling. A boy and girl, probably Tanmay alias Tublu and Sujata alias Maina, walking hand in hand and a diorama of some place, in all likelihood, Maina’s hometown in the state of Assam.
At the same time, the title is equally appealing and really ties in to the cover picture. The moment I came across the cover for the first time, I made my mind of reading it there itself.

Blurb: Devastated by floods, Bipin and his little boy Tublu move to a faraway land, where they meet the Sharmas. This marks the beginning of a long and enduring relationship between Bipin and the Sharmas, and the growing friendship of their children Tublu and Maina. The book captures the journey of this friendship through childhood to adolescence and into adulthood. From some interesting school and college humor, the story progresses on and develops into a mature narrative. As years pass, Tublu’s plain and silent crush on Maina develops into deep love and longing which bears the potential to conquer all of life’s challenges. The story has its share of drama, that entertains; humor that makes one reminisce; love, friendship and emotions that define the amazing journey that is, life.

The Story:
After sharing his moments-of-delight over his blog for a few years, this is Jahid Akhtar’s debut novel. In spite of that, the author has done all the justice to the story. As the story sets out with Tublu and his father wandering in search of some ray of hope, they come across Mr. Sharma who is the Principal of a renowned school who turns their godparent at every turn, that is to say for food, shelter, job for Bipin, not forgetting Tublu’s education which further leads to a better future later in the story.

Tublu and Maina share a keen bonding ever since their childhood. And though his feelings for her had always been more than mere friendship, but he doesn’t shares his heart out until long. Later, as they leave the place for higher studies, a perfect comparison of their lives has been made. Meanwhile, Maina’s brother, Paplu gets a job in the US and eventually decides to settle there and gets married to Michelle.

There are also numerous friends, likely the true ones, which Tublu makes all through the story demonstrating how a human’s relationship with someone can bring a vital change in their lives. Life is indeed a journey with its shares of ups and downs. Mr. Sharma develops cancer and the entire story takes a big twist there. Everyone is shattered and compromise their happiness to his only to find their problems multiply in the later part of the story that also includes Maina’s marriage to another guy she doesn’t really feels for.

This story is a wonderful rollercoaster ride from puerility, childhood infatuations, innocent talks, the love disease, hesitations, college and hostel life, drawing together to one’s parents, to being adults and eventually being parents themselves in the span of 204 pages, which makes it a perfect read for people of all age groups.

The writing was simple beyond words. And that’s what makes it a fast moving, light and easy to digest story one can easily enjoy it in a single sitting. Everyone, at some point of time, finds himself reading his very own story. Every time Tublu hesitated to talk his heart out to Maina, I could feel a gulp stuck in my throat.

PS. I know I’m not the first one to say this but, yup, avoid the ‘Forward’ or you already would have read a couple of spoilers thus damaging the eagerness which would have served a better suspense.

About the Author: Jahid Akhtar is a software developer by profession. He was born and brought up in Assam and resides in Bangalore with his wife, Anjali and their little daughter, Jia. Jahid enjoys writing about some unforgettable moments in his blog titled Flashbacks.

My GOODREADS rating is 4 out of 5 and I’m so glad I read it.



Do let me know how you felt about it. FEEDBACK appreciated!!

Impractical JOKERS

Sunday, March 15, 2015

They say that everybody is born with those mercies bestowed upon him, who make you feel blessed with their cold shadows even if they themselves were sticking out in the burning summer sun. They make you believe that no matter how dusky the night may be, the sun never misses a day. It will rise up like always, though there may be some days overcast by the clouds of devilry.

The list of friends I have already lost in this life is endless. And though, I don’t hold any grudges against any of them, but somewhere deep within, they have created a cicatrix that can never be made up no matter what. And ironically, the void has added up to the heaviness. But what’s affirmative is that not all fish belong to the same pond. Some come all the way from the elixir-waterfall of the heavens to help you swim in the ocean of sufferings.

Every time I was engrossed in my thoughts, disheartened by the rues of life, there was one person I always found by my side without fail, like the invisible, but eternal part of my life.  Jasmin. It’s hard pointing out a single incident when she turned out to be a blessing to me and I know, a mere blog post won’t be enough to counter the good she has done to me, but I won’t let go of this chance of thanking and dedicating something to her.

It was one of those days where nights were the devil’s hour and were, for sure, called longer than the dawns. Where silent winds of the dark sounded like the hauntings of the past. Deluged with the thoughts of self-hatred and calling on the carpet, I felt it would be the longest night of my life. Trust me, the no-reason downheartedness is one of the most elusive things to face. And I could feel the heaviness of my heart increase with every breath I took. But for her, it was another one of those CID vs Rajnikant Jokes.

A few gibbers and jabbers, and I was back to being the half-baked jerk I always have been. As if in a moment, she pulled the right nerve that was needed to heal my sickness. And I could literally put a smiling smiley after every text I messaged. Humiliating each other for no practical reasons and greeting their presence the very next moment. Jokers, indeed. This world is definitely a happy place when you are surrounded by people who care for you.

Jasmin- She is a school friend, and though we haven’t met in person after that, but that wasn't a limit to the wonderful relation we share. Glad to have a sister like you.

This post is written for Housing.

No more a Mechanchi

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Sometimes, few decisions sound so against the popular societal beliefs that you feel like shutting them down there itself rather than them being implemented or taken on. But we often forget that we are always going to find people who criticize our decisions no matter what we do or wherever we go. And then it’s unto us to decide our priority whether we want to make it happen or being on the safer side and following the crowd. Going by the book may more invulnerable, but regrets is what will stay on once you skip over the chance. So choose rights over wrongs, no matter how inappropriate you may seem.

I remember the day I cleared my first campus placement interview. Running out of the room across that corridor, not remembering when the last I had been so happy. My document file in my hands and me legging it all across the campus as if someone just put my back on fire. A mechanical graduate from an ordinary college couldn’t have expected anything better than a job in designing field. Being the only one amongst my friends to be placed, it felt cracking. But sooner than later, I started feeling uncertain about it. The line of work was great but it wasn’t something I was interested in. By the final year, I knew I wanted to take writing, or poetry to be precise, as my full time profession.

Initially, I bandied about it to my friends. I must not let go of such a rattling job, for not all are fortunate enough to get it- is what everyone said. Advising me to keep up with the job and continue writing as a part-time hobby. And my family was no exception.

Choosing the job with uncertain pay (though more interesting) compared to a high-salaried permanent job wasn’t easy. Especially when your family and friends were against the mere thought of it. And at times, even I was unsure if I should do this. But one thing I was sure of was that I couldn’t do the two things simultaneously especially when the mere training was to span over a period of 6 months with a minimum of 12 hours per day.

Sometimes you are too scared to take a leap but an action is all that’s required for you to realize you too could fly. And I flew. At times, the boldest you need to go is a silent whisper to the self, saying, “I have to do this.” It’s just months since I completed my college, and I have already been published in four anthologies with a couple more on their way to getting published sooner than later.

So, do what you think is right even if the entire world seems against you. Even your family, friends and acquaintances can be wrong sometimes, but ultimately, it’s you who has to make the final decision. And you will find yourself transformed in the course of action. Passion cannot be kept in cages. The sapling somehow finds its course from within a rock.

This post is written for Housing.

For a Happy Child

Friday, March 6, 2015

Having four maternal uncles and an aunt living in the same town and that too in a joint family, visiting them has always been a delight. I have had the privilege to attend their marriages and also witness them become first time parents. And so, I have seen a dozen of my cousins grow up in front of my own eyes, and every time I visited them, in my own arms. Lately, one of my cousin was blessed with a baby girl, further summing up to the lot. And in all these years, I have realized that there’s absolutely nothing like seeing little ones dissolve into irrepressible belly laughs. These bundles of joy are no-doubt the best creation of god.

Here is a list of some of the sweet, silly and funny things that never failed to add a smile to their chubby faces.

Making unusual sounds, even burps, works well. It is one of the most common tricks to make them happy.
Make funny faces.
Kids like observing animals. It could be a pet cat, a dog or even stray sheep and cattle.
Their hands and legs automatically move to the beats of loud music. And trust me, they never dance without a riant face.
The spoon turned a plane, every time Di fed me with veggies.
The sure shot is that whenever you look at stranger kids in bus/train with a smile, they stare for a moment and then smile back as if they just met the best person of their life.
Toys with motion.
Lying on the bed, making them sit on your feet and swing your knuckles up and down.
Tickling their feet, armpits, or booing their tummy and get rewarded with uncontrollable giggles.
Picking me in arms is what used to please me when I was a kid.
Pick them up in air and spin around.
That moment, when you are trying to make your baby giggle and he already knows what’s going to happen next and starts laughing beforehand, is something that will make you grow younger by a decade.

There is also something that you need to keep in mind, something they won’t warn before they pee or poo in your hands. So a diaper that could keep his full tummy dry is probably what kick starts his happy mood, and save your hands from getting poopified. However most diapers only focus on being leak proof and ensure dryness on the outside, thus providing discomfort to the kid. Something that could also maintain the dryness of the baby’s skin is the real need so he can enjoy the most magnificent days of his life without any visible hitches.

This post is a part of Indiblogger contest for Pampers

Write and Wrong

Thursday, March 5, 2015

In my 3 years of ‘playing-it-like-a-blogger’, there have been days when I almost pulled the plug on writing, as if it was an illness I was going about. Not that the words wouldn't come, or it wouldn’t satisfy me, nor had I started scorning it. Writing (poetry) demands isolation. Re-living all the moments that strip the skin off your body, layer by layer, and with depth, amplify your squalls, like it wasn’t the paper the pen was moving on, but the heart.

Writing, to me, was a way to exempt my heart of all the heaviness. It was like painting her over a blank canvas with closed eyes. But after it grew into a passion, I was impelled to dig deeper into my anxieties for every single word of rhymes I penned down. But still I got to conceal my rues, and practice faking in front of a world that doesn’t cares.

Soon, I began looking upon writing as a curse. I thought writing is something that causes misery and it times, destruction. I remember discussing it with Roshan that maybe it’s time for me to bid my final farewell to writing. I know there are about 2 billion songs written over heartbreak, but trust me, there is not a single that can literally help you get over it. I mean, I loved writing, but the aftereffects were miserable. And now, I thought I just wasted all those years doing nothing.

The other day, I met a good friend of mine who has just cleared his Bank PO exam after spending 7 irreversible years of his life studying machines and mechanical technology, with specialization in ‘tool and die’. It was his passion.
“So how’s your writing going on? Just heard that you got a book published.”
“Fine. But writing isn’t something you can rely upon. It can lead astray just any moment.”
“At least you do what you love.” he said in an exanimate voice.

And those words off his mouth kept ringing in my ears long after we went forth. I realized that maybe I was taking matters in earnest. That I ought to relish and be thankful for the marvelous ability I was bestowed upon with. Not everyone gets a chance to do what they really love doing. Something that gives them happiness. Maybe all I needed was just to switch my paradigm and consider those winks as the sweet old memories that will only add up a smile every time I think of them. People come. People leave. Loss is inevitable. But it is up to us how we look at things. Everything that happens is but for a reason, and the reason is ‘refinement of our future’.

This post is a part of Indiblogger contest for Housing.

The Perpetual Creator

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Ever since its first birthday, this planet has seen knavery, bloodshed and cruelty. Killing others for food, self-defense and even blood-sports. Perhaps, life wasn’t so easy amidst the mashup. Going forth, leaving no stone unturned in search of food, hunting like falcons, getting back safely and at times, getting traced. What would a pigeon surrounded by cats do? Being amongst flesh-eaters won’t make one a compassionate being. If that higher-up image would have had enlightened his so-called children that beasts too feel the pain just like we humans do, maybe, just maybe, we would have respected life a little more.

Lately there has been a news of beef being banned in Maharashtra and the entire social media was like “Hell no! We’d starve to death now”. But as they say, “There’s nothing wrong with the world”, for God himself is responsible for its present condition.

So the first thing I’d do as god is to make every person short lived, just like the dreams of today’s world. Also, they’d be well aware of the time they are going to die. And they’d even have a deed-indicator attached to their foreheads, flashing the rating of their deeds just so they may furbish up their quota of karma for heaven’s desire.

Probably, I could just start my own BPO service so people may get in touch with me (through the men I hire) every time their prayers go unheard. And voila, this may even solve the current unemployment problem of the world. Or maybe just like the politicians these days do in electoral campaigns, meeting everyone in person, comprehending their conundrums and promising to unriddle them.

Some of the admirations you could come across in my reign:
  • Your grandma sending you cute selfies for you taught her how to take photos with your cellphone the last time you two met
  • Your dog fetching you the morning newspaper
  • Or you could probably get photobombed by Johnny Depp
  • Every day, you’d have a choice to select the genre of dream you wish to see that night
  • You could catch a penguin running behind your car
  • Winning a lottery over the ticket gifted to you by Santa
  • Or even receiving a phone call from Emma Watson herself

Apne parivaar ko apne dum pe jeena sikhao!

Sunday, March 1, 2015

PS. Based on a true story. 

Abhay has been studying in boarding school ever since he was 10. Col Brown Cambridge School, Dehradun was a renowned one.

Travelling 370km just to drop your son to his school every month would have been really hard. But Mr. Shukla showed perfect. As if it didn’t really matter to him. Or pretending he was strong enough. But what he never missed was driving his son 370km across the curves of hills and mountains.

They weren’t allowed to keep cellphones with them in the hostel. And anyone found to have one had to face their wrath. So the only way to talk to your family was the landline in the administrative block that you were allowed to use only at weekends. Though some kids managed to secretly keep a cellphone in Mrs. Grimpson’s tombstone, shrouded not just from the school and hostel officials, but also from their parents. It wasn’t to keep in touch with your family whenever you missed them badly, rather, to play mobile games. 

But, Abhay was a delicate tot. He had that photograph of him with his family stuck at the side wall of his cemented bed as he didn’t need to wait for a particular moment to miss them. All through the week, he used to eagerly wait for Saturdays, encircling all Saturdays in the pocket-size calendar with Sai Baba’s pic that his dad had given him at the time of joining.

Ironically, talking to his dad made him even more doleful. All his dad talked about were the ordinary parent-talks like how was he performing in his class and if he needed money and so on. And he wondered if his dad really cared much for him. He remembered he had often seen his mom cry whenever it was time for him to get back to hostel, but his dad, he was firm like a broad mountain; the real life symbolization for “Men don’t cry.”

Time passed, though with a snail’s pace. And with time, he got his hands at taekwondo, judo, karate and boxing and there wasn’t a single sport he didn’t play every evening. Playground became his new compadre. And soon, his house was filled with district, state as well as national level awards and medals. By the time he completed his matriculation, he could have opened his own trophy store if he wished to.


Today is his day of driving his son to the boarding school for the very first time and his heart aches. Standing at the main entrance of the school, he could see his son all mousy and timid. When everyone was waiting for Abhay to get into the car and drive them back home, he goes to his son for his final fatherly words.

“Listen son.” He says, “I know you’re scared inside. But believe me when I say you are strong enough. Today, your feet may be feeble and refuse to carry the anguish of this detachment, but one day, they will be strong enough to carry the load of a family with a son in boardings.” And continued, “And one more thing son. There’s a cemetery behind the school premises. Mrs. Grimpson has a surprise for you.”

This post is a part of contest for HDPFLife.