From Moments to Memories to Marriage Thoughts - I

As I was sitting on my cozy bed watching a romantic bollywood flick, all engrossed in a scene where the bride and groom face the holy fire, I hoped at least someday such hot wrath of holy fire would burn off my bad karmas. It was 2 am, and I was half asleep. I couldn’t feel my feet. Maybe it was because of the biting cold of wintry weather or maybe because I was sitting cross-legged for too long. My brain swung between sleep and semi-consciousness, and at a point the couple on the screen blurred. All I could see was a hazy picture of the bride clad in red from head to toe and my eyes closed.

*

“Mamma, I want to wear that frock and pink bellies please.” I said as mum opened the bag to take out my clothes.

“No. You’ll wear it when all we family members will go for the picnic tomorrow, you’ll spoil the frock by then. You’ll run in the fields, climb on mango tress of the orchards with your cousins and make it dirty. Frock and the pink bellies tomorrow, ok?” mamma replied. She got busy with the relatives with all her brimmed enthusiasm as she met them after long.

“I want to wear it now and show it Dadima, pleaseeeee mum” I insisted, puppy eyes as I tried to put the words as intensely as possible.

My sister, Divya jija walked past the window of my room jus then. I saw she was also dressed in her comfy old capris then.

“Okay” I agreed all of a sudden with my mother instantly. Surprised and relieved my mother put on a white cotton frock, combed my hair and I ran out to join my cousins outside. We all went to the fields, in the tractor. I sat beside Divya jija, constantly watching how she behaved, sat, what she said, etc, smiling at her whenever our eyes met. She was the eldest and the most affectionate among the group. As the tractor stopped, we hopped off on by one. I did too, but instead of landing on my feet, I fell and landed on all four.

I woke up suddenly with a jerk as my head fell off my palm. I smiled. The television was still on. I realized how ancient the ‘tractor’ days were. They seemed so far away. It made me wonder whether they really existed. Thos were the days when deciding on something was so simple. I hugged the warm pillow beside me and my eyes began to drop again… Everything around turned black again.

*

From Moments to Memories to Marriage Thoughts - II

*

Tears rolled down my cheeks as Divya jija held me by my shoulder and asked,
“What happened ?”
“Marks” I replied, in the lowest volume. My head bowed down in shame.
“Arre its okay, Mamisa wont say anything. Jus say sorry and that you’ll work hard in the next term” she said, reassuringly.

I had barely survived to pass in the Maths exam when my other classmates managed to secure really good marks.

“But my other friends have done very well” I uttered, sobbing really hard. I saw my tears fall off and land on my grey pinafore. I desperately hoped for more reassuring words and as none came, I looked up.

She had this “why- the- hell- you- have- to- irrelevantly- compare- with- others” look on her face. As I kept looking, hoping she’ll say something, she just pressed her lips. My heart sank even more. I felt terrible about myself. I bid her goodbye and walked off. Once out of sight, I started walking fast out of nervousness. Somewhere down the road, as more water filled in my eyes, ready to flow, my vision blurred and I tripped on a stone and fell, bruising my elbow.

I woke up again. I chuckled at how silly I was. We all were, aint we? As I child, I felt such intense emotions on such small things. We lived completely in the moment. I slept off again and drifted away.

*

From Moments to Memories to Marriage Thoughts - III

“I can’t believe she fought with me for her loser boyfriend!” I said, disheartened.
“C’mon. you’ll do that too when you’ll have one.” she said to soothe me.
“I always support her. What is she doing?” I said in a pissed off manner. I couldn’t leave her and felt like calling her up and crying on the phone.
“Come” jija said.
“Nothing, you’re doing nothing but having an ice cream with me…come” she answered.
“What? I’m in a no mood to go eat an ice cream! What for?” I protested.
“To cool down your racing head” she dragged me.

Mid-way, I gave into the idea and after two mango dollies each, we didn’t care a damn about anything. Smiling and making promises, we parted to our respective homes.

I woke up and turned side ways. Recalling the dream, one ice cream was all it took to revitalize us.

*

And now is even a life partner enough? I smiled remembering how we had fallen on each other when needed. And now everything has changed after she got married. After a point it becomes awkward calling her all the time. And my issues would seem so petty to her, after all the responsibilities she’s bound to take care after her marriage. I always believed marriage to be a relationship based on undermining the past ones. Were the other relationships too? If yes, then what would be the ultimate, unchanging relationship?

*

There had been times I had been smitten by her, hated her, and started liking her again and then there were incidents where I’d decided I would love her forever. How typically I had fallen in love with her. And such a typical love-hate relationship we shared! Is that what love is, I wondered…If that was true, I tried to reason what was so special about marriage? What was the need of it at all? May be people got married because gradually all those who they fell back on got married.

I couldn’t help but wonder that if I had someone who would satisfy my emotional needs, would I ever tie the knot? Would anyone? Why was marriage so important? I felt my brain hurt and instantly longed for the days when decisions about things in life were simply a mere facsimile of the decisions of the person you looked up to for no particular reason.

The Bike Ride ♥

Out and over the golden straights
Up and over the beautiful mountains
Along the streams lazy curves
These lovely sights would be someday my visual fate

The breeze is pounding and pelting
At my soul
That relaxing massaging
It too gives, while I ride to reach my goal

The love of the road
The spirits so free
The love to be a little insane
To ride on those city streets even in that rain

Live to ride, ride to live
Ride through the burning roads, ride through the sun
Jus ride, ride and ride
Until your ass says you’re done!

Becharmed

The whites she wore
dissolved into her skin
Though nothing tore
they managed to reach within.

Her hands she used
to fight them back
But couldn't do anything anymore
and surrendered to their sin.

They went down her nose, her cheeks
Her lips, her neck and her waist so thin...

Everyone jus watched,
She was hard to ignore
But none came to help her
As she stood helpless in the downpour.

They call it, 'A Lot Like Love'

I am no expert to comment on love. But today morning while I was talking to a friend of mine who was still crazy about a guy whom she had been dating in the past and who left her to marry a certain girl from his community made me to re-think on this topic.

*

Every night she used to lie on her bed, tossing and turning, having her usual uneasy sleep. Since he had left her 8 months back, this is what sleep had become to her- hanging somewhere in-between, in an uncomfortable state of trance. She didn’t complain. But almost every night the same film played in her mind. It would be very real every single time. She missed his rough palms that caressed her soft cheeks, his rock solid arms that lifted her out of play, even his body smell when he had last hugged her. She needed him to hold her but the very thought of him having left her life caused the tears roll down her cheeks. She closed her eyes and her face crimped as she silently cried harder; she uttered her most desperate wish, “Please come back”

*

I’ve often seen love quite messy, unpredictable an extremely painful. I could feel my friends sorrow.

Sometimes when you sit and reminiscence, there is a slight sliver of the almost forgotten tingle that passes your body.

Why the hell is that there?

No matter how brief or short-lived the romance was, you seem totally hooked on them.

As Carrie Bradshaw said, “Some love stories are not epic novels, some are short stories, but that doesn’t make them any less filled with love.”

*

There is a point of time when you think that you love someone to the core, with all your heart and soul, but that someone resolutely refuses to fall in love with you. It’s not like in the cute romantic movies where a guy realizes what a dumb ass he’s been all the while and comes back running to you.

In actual life, sadly there is no boom, no audience applause, no heart throbbing moment before you kiss in love and be happily united forever. But the feeling. . .Well, they get the feeling spot on right in the novels and movies.

Yes it is very natural that you feel weak in the knees, u feel giddy, your heart skips a beat hearing their voice. And when the other person doesn’t reciprocate, you lock yourself in your room all day long, staring into the space, tortured by agonizing spasms of loss and tearing grief at the way things ended.

*

For me, Love is like a good weather. Because, fall, wind, snow, rain are just another kind of good weather. Aren’t they? And all of them subside one way or the other. In life, there are big exciting romantic moments which make life worth living. But here is the problem. Moments pass away, and lurking around the corner for those moments is the cruel hearted unshaven truth named “REALITY”

*

Kate Winslet’s words in the movie ‘The Holiday’,

“I understand feeling as small and insignificant as humanly possible. And how it can actually ache in places that you didn't know you had inside you. And it doesn’t matter how many new haircuts you get or gyms you join, or how many glasses of Chardonnay you drink with your girlfriends, you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong or how you could have been misunderstood. And how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy? And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he will see the light and show up at your door. And after all that....however long 'all that' maybe, you will go somewhere new. And you will meet people who will make you feel worthwhile again. And little pieces of your soul will finally come back. And all that fuzzy stuff, those months and years of your life that you wasted, that will eventually begin to fade."

*

The scar will always be there, but if you see it closely, it’s getting lighter and lighter every day, until just a dash remains and it doesn't hurt you anymore. It’s just there. . .

An Imposter

She looked at

A very handsome man

He looked at her

And made a plan

He now gave her

An enchanting smile

Her doe-eyes she battered

For a while

He then sent her

A mixed drink

A tomato red she blushed

About to shrink

He went over confidently

And asked her for a dance

She gave her hand to his

Without a glance

They danced away

For the all night long

All she thought as she swayed

"To him I belong"

He dropped her to her place

Now ready to say good bye

A perfect night in Paris

She had with the guy

“Need to leave” smilingly she said

In a saucy tone

He firmly took her by waist

A shiver ran through her bone

He touched her face gently

And all seemed perfect to the brink

Until she felt the metallic chill

Of his cold wedding ring!

Ompriya

To one of my CUTEST Friends. . .

I always had this belief that birthdays are the days where one should have the greatest parties and the most precious presents. The days when one should look and feel the most beautiful or the most handsome person in the world. The days when one should wear the cutest and the most stylish outfits. But over the years I realized, it’s just not that. The best ones actually are the ones spent with the ones who love you and whom you love.

And here I am today to pen down my story with one of the most special persons(whos b’day it is today) in my life! Its you ompriya!

EARLIER: Ompriya, my school buddy she is. Blend of “charm and cuteness”, “style and simplicity”, “dimples and twinkles”, “curves and long hair”. Over the years in school and tuitions we never talked much nor did we hangout together. When she left for her further studies to Australia, I wasn’t even aware.

*

DECEMBER 2010: Then surprisingly she bumped into my life back on nikita’s b’day a year back. She was as warm as ever and we had great fun while planning a surprise for nikita. Inspite of having the greatest times together on that day, we did not remain in touch. Since maybe we were so busy wid pleasing the “Mr. X” in our lives.

*

MAY 2011: My friend needed one more model for the NIFT ramp show. A name popped up in my mind and I rushed to my cell phone to speed dial the number unhesitatingly. Ompriya it was. Shyly she tried all the lovely garments on reaching the venue and posed elegantly for those final shots. The tiring rehearsals began the same day where we are taught to walk on that narrow platform extending to the auditorium in those high heels for hours. Both of us, the food deprived among several other similar models savored the chilled chocolate milk at the cafeteria. A conversation clicked and we became friends like never before.

*

JUNE 2011: I realized its just two months I have to have the maddest times with her and listed down the movies I want to catch with her, the places I wish to explore (e.g. Thol), the malls I wish to shop, and the coffee shops I wish to enjoy my mocha chillos on those rainy evenings. The execution began then. . .

*

TWO MONTHS DOWN THE LINE: I am trying to describe the times I spent with her before her birthday so that no matter where she’d be in the coming years, she can still read it and recall all the greatest times she had wid one of her un-biological sisters.

Ompriya I jus wanted to let you know that you are amazing! It’s only been three months we got into touch but it seems like its been a lifetime. I’d never really thought I’d get to know you so well. I would want to thank you for every little thing you’d done for me, for always being there no matter what time or what distance or difference, for being there by my side when times got a little rough, for trusting me, listening to me, having faith in me help me regain my faith in myself back. I love you a lot sweetie.

Ompriya, I realize you are that kinda cute girl

• Who’d not comfort you when somebody rejects you, but would go upto him and ask, “It’s because you are Gay, aint it?”
  
  
• Who’d not console you saying things like “it’s okay shit happens” when you’ll cry, but would rather tell you to laugh at the “LOSER ass****” responsible for those precious tears.
  
  
• Who’d not leave you behind if that’s what the crowd is doing, but would kick the crowd’s butt for doing so.
• Who’d not just tell you that she understands how you feel, but would sit with you and cry along.
  
  
• Who’d not just help you find a prince for yourself, but would actually kidnap the man you love and bring him to you.
  
  
• Who’d not sit at the side of the pool with you but throw a tampon and push you in out of mischief.
  
  
• Who’d not offer you the umbrella when it rains, but would yell “Run b**** Run!”
  
  

Sweets, your name is my definition of a best friend. Have the most beautiful birthday and celebrate it in the most wonderful manner.

*HAPPY BIRTHDAY*

Loadsa lowe angel,

bhakti

Magic Spells ;)

Jus a glimpse from his eyes

Those dark and brown,

Can put her under his spell,

And the world spins around

Jus a smile from his lips,

Her heart skips a beat,

A cute dimple & that very manly spell,

Can knock her right off her feet

Jus a word, and one look,

And she flies out of control,

And that magical spell,

Touched the heart of her soul

That voice so pure,

Her thoughts keep now drifting,

His magic and laughter,

And the joy so uplifting

For his magic and charms,

And those manly ways,

Enchants and captures her,

And all of her days

Her heart is his,

Her love his to keep,

For the power of his magic,

Has moved her so deep

For all the love in his eyes,

Sent her out of control,

His that magical spell,

Played the harp of her soul. . .

Sorrows are also Beautiful...

And now that i've cried a thousand nights
or maybe more..
who kept the count?

Overturning pillows received the waters of pure emotions
that whimpered..

An impassive face by day asks,
" How many more nights will it be? "

" Who knows " i say,
" Will i really enjoy my days without those? "

The Backless - Part 3

Though the store room had got dusted a bit, it was indeed a mess. Meera and me entered the room to immediately set to work going away in different directions. The first trunk I went through had some old rusted metal stuff. The next box I took had some really old broken toys that I didn’t remember seeing ever in life. It strangely made me wonder how many years of memories this room was holding. As I opened the third box, I was surprised to see it stacked with few school note books and dad’s novels. I noticed they were my dad’s since each one of them had his name and date when the particular book was purchased written over the first page. I eagerly started taking out the dusty books one by one to check out my handwriting when I almost started learn write. Then I lifted a few dad’s novels, and started going through them. My heart raced as I saw all of them were famous ones by very successful authors. Some of them were classics. Simply forgetting about the dust and dirt, I sat on the floor, scanning the books and wiping the dirt off my jeans. To me it was like this treasure box I found with every little memory a gem in its own way. “Those are your father’s” granny said and as I looked in her eyes I could see that her brain had traveled to some far off time. “Anyways, clear this up quickly, I don’t want these books to be lying on the floor” she said sternly. I muttered, “I will” to her back as she walked off.

All off a sudden, Meera’s loud voice “Wow!!” made me turn around. She asked me to come over. As I went over I saw she was holding this blouse in her hand. The blouse was very old but the way it was stitched surprised both of us. It was plain golden brown by color and the design was very contemporary. It had very short sleeves and it barely reached the waist and a V-shaped neckline that was deep. “Check out the back” Meera said and turned it. I saw that there was no back to check out but just a thin adequate strip of cloth joining two ends. “This ones the lower” Meera said taking out saffron lehenga with a dark brown border. It was a beautiful pair indeed. “This must be granny’s, I guess” I said looking at Meera and she gave me those weird expression on this. At first, I failed to comprehend but then it finally dawned on me. It was the irony that Meera was pointing about. I wondered granny used to wear such clothes that she doesn’t approve of when Meera does. I didn’t know what to say on this and we kept looking at it.

Granny came from behind and said smilingly appreciating the outfit, “Aah, That was mine. Isn’t it a beautiful pair??” I replied, “Indeed it is!” Granny was completely lost in her outfit ignorant of how Meera was looking at her, struggling not to question. I looked from granny to Meera, a very uncomfortable moment it was! Then granny all of sudden looked at Meera and said, “Didn’t you find the maroon colored dupatta with some work on it? Oh wait I’ll show you.” She bent down and took out a huge dupatta with a lovely embroidery floral border on it. “This would go on my head, and then the two ends would be tucked in the blouse in front. I can’t roam around wearing backless noo” she smilingly said. There was so kind expression in her large wrinkled, a little moist eyes. Meera’s expression changed. Meera and I looked at each other but that was not very comfortable somehow. Our gaze slipped n fell on the ground.

Embarrassed, we turned around, she went back to her box and I went back to mine with granny still holding the dress, to her past!

*

The Backless - Part 2

I got up at 8 in the morning and took a shower. I decided to wear very casual, the least baggy of all my outfits. Scanning carefully through my wardrobe I chose a pair of dark blue jeans and a simple round neck tee that fit me nice.

As I started climbing down the stairs, I could hear the voices and a few sounds from the breakfast table. Mamma, papa, kakosa, kakisa and granny were talking. I could hear some giggles too which told me that granny wasn’t that upset actually.

*

I could hear those very soft noises of spoons n forks against the plates, hot tea being poured from the kettle into the cups, stirring of tea. Tea had its own personality, very strong, independent, yet very pleasing as it poured out into the cup. The aroma of food was also so refreshing. I loved it when the smells of fresh fruits combined with that of hot sweet muffins! I loved listening to food!

I always loved these sounds and had this habit of waiting on the stairs for a minute to listen to them. This wasn’t the first time for sure and hence as Meera passed by me, she turned around to look at me and said, “Why do I always strangely see you standing here?” “What?? No! I mean I dint get you, whatever!” I said. I noticed Meera was covered from head to toe wearing dark black jeans, a tube top that almost reached her knees with a neckline deep enough to reveal her butterfly shaped pendant. She didn’t pay heed to my reply and wore a half sleeve black shrug that she was carrying along with her. She looked at me for a second and said, “Come jija” and walked off.

*

After everything was done and Meera and me were about to get up, granny all of a sudden said, “One moment girls” During the breakfast, she was busy talking so casually I had to force myself to believe that the incidents of the last night happened and they weren’t some dream. Now when she spoke these words, I felt like one half of me was telling the other, “See. This has actually happened. I told you!” Granny smiled and said, “It has been really long the store room has been touched. We need to go through and clear off the stuffs that we don’t want. So, see you girls in an hour.” Meera was clearly not happy about this but she didn’t retaliate and left reluctantly.

*

The Backless - Part 1

It was 12 am. I came out of my room and walk downstairs to get some water from kitchen. As I headed near, I could see the lights were turned on. I saw my twenty year old sister propped on the wall with this really huge slice of chocolate cake which had almost submerged in the chocolate sauce she must have poured over it. I must have been staring for quite long at her, as , reading my expressions she said,

“i’d heated the cake and put some chilled chocolate sauce over it. Try it. It tastes super..”

I was nauseated at this idea of so much chocolate at one go and turned away saying, “no thanks” Opening the fridge, pouring some water in the glass I asked, “So your partys over??” I knew she had just arrived back from her college party as she was wearing her party outfit. It was a plain red, backless one piece that reached her mid thighs. Her messed up hair was tied up in a pony tail that was strategically resting on her collar bone so that it would not keep her naked back from showing. Why was she so keen on flashing her skin and not the lovely outfit? Has that normal human tendency to flash new outfits disappeared? She wore my shimmering black Charles n Keith high heels that were very beautiful and made a statement. Nevertheless it made me wonder how she would have danced in those till 3 to 4 insane hours. But I always loved them.

“The party was obviously over and I was hungry” she replied. “Ohkey” I said “I thought you came back because of this intensive chocolate craving!” I closed this bottle of water in my hand. She rolled her eyes and turned away towards the sink to put the plate. The bare back was pretty prominent now. Plus the dress was pretty short. All that I could see was a thin strap of cloth of sufficient length. I didn’t like her wearing such minimal clothes. It wasn’t vulgar or cheap, neither am I against exposing or flaunting, but there is that perfect cut, that design, some style that is revealing but in all that elegance that sets a lady apart! I wondered how my grandma would react in case she sees her in such a dress and gave out a chuckle. She turned around sharply and suddenly shrieked.

*

I turned around to see my granny standing there right in front and it made me jump. It made me doubt whether she could read my thoughts.

“What on earth are you wearing Meera?” granny spoke.

I did not wish to get dragged into some kind of argument at midnight and started to walkout of the kitchen giving a little fake yawn. Somehow I stopped at the door and turned around. I didn’t possibly wish to miss the drama.

“You went out in such semi naked clothes? And is this the time you come home?” granny continued.

“Granny, we had this fresher’s party and I had to look good!” my cousin pleaded.

“You young girls look good by wearing such minimal clothes?? Is it?”

I stifled a giggle at this.

“What? Nope its that..” my cousin scared to protest but granny cut her off, saying, “Go to sleep Meera”

I immediately left since I was very sleepy, a little disappointed thinking granny ended this, but I knew it was to be continued the next morning. She would always make sure that the whole family was at the breakfast table by 8:30. I smiled myself thinking what was about to come and slept.

*

As i walk down the ramp for NIFT... ;D

As I’d put on those high heels
M loving thinking about the confident sound
That it'd make on the ramp
When I'd walked down!

As I'd put on my gloss
M loving thinking about the countless touch ups
Before those final shots that'd probably
Drive me nuts!

As I’d put on those evening gowns and dresses
M loving thinking about those numerous ways
I'd so elegantly pose in
During these exciting days!

And as I see those lights & flash
It takes me back to drop in the middle
And act like a magnifier
To look through myself at myself!

That unruffled fire i see within
Through that magnifier!

:-)

When shes asking for chocolates and flowers
I jus long for that one look
When shes asking for gifts and surprises,
I jus long for that one assuring touch

When shes asking for those big bold diamonds
I jus long for that one warm hug
When those cheeks touch in affection & admiration
I long for you, to jus stand by me

When he lifts her up to get a giggle
I long for your friendly hand round my neck
When they kiss in love
I long for you to jus hold my hand

When you are going to them
All I want is a plain text smiley from you
When you can’t be here
All I want from you is to remember me

When later if we can’t be, I will be so blue
But all I would do is pray for a happy you
With a very little space for me

I want to be a bit more to you than somebody who sits and composes a poetry!

Life, A Race!

I wish I could jus relax under the warm sun
Munching on that sweet bun
With nobody around, but jus its glare
And something that would make me shine too

I wish I could jus stare at that cheerful hopping bird
His feet in dust and mine in dirt
With nobody else but its chirrup
And something that would clear off the mess

I wish I could jus walk by those dense tall trees
My shoes crunching the dry leaves
With nobody else but jus its shade
And something that would make me stand tall too

I wish, I so wish I could jus sit and everything around pass by
Wondering the reason for this race
With nobody but their hazy forms
And something that would probably keep me too at their pace!

Jus one happy thought!

If ever
Smiles shrink to a frown, you're standing straight

When things don look so great and your heart sinks
You feel yourself drown...

Thats when
It's jus one happy thought that makes a difference!
Jus one happy thought that keeps you going!

A hope that binds you to life and dreams overflowing

Jus one happy thought
To keep your sorrow from showing!

But
Thats not so easy as it seems
You've gotta hold your breath,
You've gotta pay off your life's debt,
You'll start to think that smiles don't come for free

That's when
It's jus one happy thought that makes a difference and keeps you going!

A hope that binds you to life and dreams overflowing

Jus one happy thought
To keep your sorrow from showing!

Beyond felicity

Beyond the first ripe orange ray that peeks through the dark sky,
Beyond the first flickering & twittering that celebrates this light,
Beyond the first content smile on the face
Seeing the one lying beside you on the bed, and
Trying him to wake

There are dark clouds of lonesomeness on the streets where smiles are forever dead!

Beyond the first gentle kiss of that ray that warms the abode,
Beyond the first vivacious flower that expressed happiness & glowed,
Beyond the first shy lowering of eyes
When that curious search led to the rendezvous of gaze

There is a dark cloud of hopelessness on the street where the sunlight got lost in a maze!

Beyond the first bright yellow leaf that stoops to welcome the autumn,
Beyond the first rain drop on the snail that made him coil,
Beyond the first extremely painful cry
That led them to the joyous tears of parenthood

There is a permeative breeze of terror on the street where the rains drowned the hopes!

As i gradually get immersed by helplessness
And as i abandon the hope to see beyond
All i do is wish
That I could do something substantial
Than being bewildered in such shallow felicitous lyrics!

Share a smile with a street kid today! :)

A few ways i'd like to share that could bring those bright flashing smiles on the cute faces of street kids, without giving them money:

1. Volunteer
There isn’t any way to avoid a child’s eyes looking up at you, an amputee holding out an empty cup. So what if you are not a part of some Organization, it surely does not mean you can’t reach out!!!

A direct method I find is to head over to a local temple or a slum and ask them if they need any help or know schools where you can take part.
One can also search for nearest community organization over the internet & become a part of it, though not always full time.

2. Devote A Moment
The simplest, sweetest & the most valuable thing you can give to a child is time. Rather than brushing them off, spend some time & show interest asking them their names, what they like to do, where do they study etc.
Generosity doesn’t have to mean giving away things. Sharing a bit of yourself, opening a window into your own world, is a good place to begin with.

3. Eat Together
If you’ve made a connection with a particular child, enjoy a small ice cream at a local eatery.
However, remain cautious when extending the invitation, as one may end up meaning that you’re taking the entire community out for a treat :D

4. Play With Pictures
Another great tool is a cam. Kids love to ham it up and in my experience, they will often burst into excited shrieks and start making funny faces, flashing “peace signs” or doing group photo ops. If you can, show them the results, and guaranteed you’ll have a ton of kids squealing with excitement and eager to do another round of wacky poses.

5. Create a Painting
No worries if you are not artistic type, get involved in some kind of spontaneous “arts”. Gather the kids, get a few postcards and funky coloring pens.

Leave a part of yourself behind by doing a group drawing session on a postcard. Any form of nature/cartoon drawing and thus providing a greater picture beyond the slums. Plus it will also let their creative juices flowing.

6. Take interest in Local Slang
Sometimes its fun for both the parties when you show interest & let the kids teach you some of the local lingo. In turn you’ll gain a few friends and make them feel like they’ve done something special.

I believe handing out a few coins is not an appropriate act since that often goes to their master/parents who spend it on alcohol or illegal substance. Rather find some alternatives like wrapped packets of biscuits, or books or any other learning paraphernalia. Remember "you may not be able to help everyone, but everyone can surely help someone" :)

The Scar

Your scar and its magnificence
Is absolutely admired;
Not by its story,

But in that little aperture
of few seconds
When our eyes meet. .

And all my fingers crave to do
is simply. .
trace it!

. . .

My ideas have gone yellow,
The ink has dried..

The paper stares at me expectantly
Ohh my God...m feeling sick,
I need to write!!

Dimple for a Pimple

It would be so nice if one could replace the pimples with those deep dimples. Well, here I am to save the day, to keep those nasty pimples away. Temptation is that ultimate source of pimples. The temptation to have that dark chocolate brownie, to get that roadside gol gappa a little more spicy, to finish off the last bar of choc that resides in the fridge, to skip your workout for a day (thinking it won’t make a difference) and so on. And then the next morning a happy bright red pimple is just there right in front.

Well in that case I’d share that one must exercise inner peace of happiness by loving oneself unconditionally and not let the next huge chunk of life revolve around that red little spot! Standing in front of the mirror, losing all patience and trying to blow it off or actually resorting to those so-called promising face washes or your granny’s remedies will lead you nowhere.

One should focus on well-being inside your heart and in your mind to have that bright face with a touch of confidence. Feel beautiful inside and outside. The power of that ugly tiny pimple will only exists if you give focus to the space that it is on. It’ll be as large as you make it in your mind. Undoubtedly sometimes a voice in your head tells you that it was sinful and you shouldn’t have done it but your heart is still stuck there.

But then again, who decides it’s a sin? Is there anything wrong in some pleasure? Why sometimes things that give you some satisfaction restricted? Why pimples are not ok? Since they leave a mark? But then that mark vanishes with a short span of time..

Turn your attention to the beautiful being that you are and concentrate on your lushes lashes, apple-shaped eyes, luscious lips and an enchanting smile. Don’t make it complicated, but just look into the mirror and say to yourself, I’m here and I’m alive, with my round & slightly dimpled nose it’s time for me to strike a pose!

Playfulness!!!

This is one of those concepts all you guys are familiar with but find it bit hard to define. Many a times your close mates tend to tell you to stop acting kiddish, and behave like grown ups. To them I’d say “We don’t stop playing because we grow old, BUT we actually grow old because we stop playing!!”

It is sometimes misinterpreted that playfulness is a sign that a person hasn't grown up. But actually being playful is in no manner co-related with a difficulty in being serious!

There’s this famous biblical quote we learnt in school, which says, “Now that I am a man, I have put away childish things.” The incitement to be grown up about life and take things seriously is pretty well understood, but boy, do we really heed it?? Well I’d guess “NO” You think society has a real down on playfulness. On that I’d again say, “OFCOURSE NOT”

According to me, its something that is really exciting, intoxicating and it nurtures the part of us that still feels like a kid!!

Many psychologist & researches have also claimed that being playful is a great EMOTIONAL RESOURSE. I’d read this somewhere (though I don’t remember the exact sources) that states “A couple that plays together, stays together!”

And according to me, some of the best playful moments happen spontaneously. For instance acting coyly or affectionately teasing “your-that-someone” can be considered as a “romantic kind of playfulness”.

It is something that is very essential component in building healthy relationships – your connections with family, friends, your co-workers, your lover everybody.

More importantly, it is to be in the moment that makes the “play” possible. The more often you laugh, the more you enjoy with your fellow mates, the more playful you are with them, the more it keeps them by your side. Such acts are somewhat contagious. By that I mean, the moment others hear the laughter primes, their respective brains send signals for a bright smile and there arises a willingness to join in on the fun.

It’s never too late to develop and embrace your playful side. As a baby you were always playful. So why let that so-called concern of “how you’d look” or “how you’d sound” to others limit your playfulness??!

Just loosen up a little bit, identify things you already enjoy, and incorporate playful activities in it. Embrace your playful nature with other people! :D