11 October, 2015

The Secret

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 56; the fifty-sixth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write.

One fine morning I got ready for my work and went walking, crossing lanes after lanes to reach the bus stop. My head started spinning, I felt dizzy and sick all of the sudden. Before I could understand anything I completely lost the control over my body and fell down on the road unconscious. There after who took me to the hospital I cannot recall that part. But when I opened my eyes I found myself surrounded by the nurses and the doctors standing around me. They asked me my name and other details as the part of the legal formalities of the hospital. I got scared and wondered what the hell was happening? What was wrong with me? Soon one of the doctor asked me if I could call someone from my home. Well I lived alone far from family to a different town so nobody could reach here in the mean time. I told doctor rather aggressively that everything was fine and they should discharged me immediately! He said he is conducting couple of medical tests and can say only after he goes through the report which should arrive within 24hours. Until then they wanted to keep me under observation. Although I thought it was pretty much a waste of time and money, I was lying there lifeless.

On the bed alone in the room, I kept wondering about what happened in the morning. It was difficult to focus and I could not sleep too. There was a strange anxiety and fear. In the evening when the doctor came back with the report, its seemed for a while that not everything was in right place. He asked me couple of questions regarding the allergy, my hereditary diseases, diabetes tests, heart-rate tests, and so on. Well the good news was that all the reports were fine. They believed it must be stress and unhealthy practices of eating food might have resulted into such weird conditions. I was supposed to be discharged in the morning. So spending the night in the hospital was getting reckless. All the time I was getting weaker and more scared. I pondered if the reports were fine why should I feel terrified and for what! There was a chaos in my head and something so negative that I could not control. I got up on the bed and sat, observing myself panting, sweating puzzled and clueless. I could not think straight. I freaked out and shouted loudly. Hearing me, some nurses came running. I told them crying hard that I need to go. It seemed like a nightmare. Something I was used to go through almost every night at home. Since I was getting uncontrollably, one of the nurse gave an injection which made me dizzy and asleep at ones.

As I woke up after hours, I realised it was morning already. The nurses seemed confused to my behaviour. I looked calm and sober, nothing like the last night. Such extreme change in me was definitely a topic of concern. It wasn't simply the mood swings. As there was still time for the doctor to arrive, so one of the old aged nurse sat next to me. She looked at me and passed a warm smile. Soon she gave me a tiny questionnaire which I almost got ridiculously the highest score. But in this case getting the highest score means I was much more prone to depression. She instantly and honestly shared the score with the terrible news that I was indeed suffering from an acute depression. Hearing that I simply broke down. I cried uncountably. I lost my energy and struggled to be nice. I disagreed to what she believed but the questionnaire answers result could not be challenged.

Somehow the definition of depression could never make me realised that I was suffering from it. Although I suffered from panic attacks on a regular basis, it seemed more of the behaviour buildup. People suffering from depression looks so normal for their first look but as you spend more time with them, you can easily figure out how disconnected they are from every good thing around. Depression is very much curable but we need to open up. Facing the truth is the toughest thing. As the doctor approached, and was already aware of my situation it was a time for me to confess. I felt no calm internally. I never had a happy childhood and soon after being a teenager I was into the limelight for all the wrong reasons from drugs to bad company.

But in the recent times I have gone through a lot. Simply a lot more than anyone could ever thought. I have seen a weaker side of mine yet fighting the odd strongly. Perhaps, I have been worried for the clueless reason indeed. Madness melting down into me. I have watched the sunset without hoping there will be the brighter days ahead. I have counted stars silently in the lonely long nights. I have been a wanderer almost filled with the stoic feelings. I have followed the trail, soaked mountain tops inhaled. Searching for the answers for all the spoken yet unspoken sentiments. I have seen a sea and tasted the salt in eyes. I have stared the vast sky, squeezing tight the eyelids, holding not to spill and waiting for the shower of drizzling dewdrops settling.

I have tried picking up scattered pieces of puzzling pace of life. I ones unfolded the thoughts and got trapped in it. So I wrapped and enveloped the passion. I have sewn the dreams, desires and determination interwoven million of words handwritten by me in memoirs. Absorbing the freaking shocks and fading surprises. Stumbling and thinking they are the sacred places to submit. And there I have touched the sand and stones following on the sphere of shadow and sounds. Strangely, I have heard the storm singing the sincere words. I had some unfinished fragments cradle little sweet things, so hard to forget or ignore.

The secret of my selfish life lies in the shameful fact that there has been a time when I felt like ending my life. Honestly it wasn't just my life but actually it was about to end the madness in me. The scars of sorrow heal, suppressing the scream, separating the simplicity of souls by burning down the sealed secret love letter. Rising fumes and letting myself fall down and getting life back from scratch.

I wish, I had that extra confidence to go ahead without reasoning the consequences and simply propose her!

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: XX.
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14 September, 2015

Haiku Hope

It's been really a long time but this word 'Hope' just gave me that hope that being back promptly wasn't that difficult. Although I won't be able to participate in the prompt link but I just having my presence and perseverance on this page for me is so worth & satisfying!!

Need to thank couple of my loving blogger friend from the bottom of my heart for just being there for always!!!

Never Less than more
Hope I'm not asking too much
Attentions dear peace!
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22 September, 2013

Lauki Ke Kofte - My style

a complicated recipe made easy..

GGoing back into my childhood memories, I remember bottle gourd was grow into my garden. It was definitely a pleasure to see the vine growing longer and the little fruit bottle-gourd grow from a little finger size to a big hand size. But being a kid I used to dislike eating the bottle-gourd just like any other youngster would do. Though one of the most nutritious vegetable, it could never appeal me. However my mom had new tricks to make me eat it. She would prepare delicious bottle gourd kofta (recipe to be shared below) and lovely ghiya kheer. A recipe which not only me but my friends also used to also love it. Ghiya Kheer recipe can also be find out on this blog with this link : Ghiya Kheer.

Between bottle gourd have several different names all over India. Lauki, ghiya, dhoodhi, white gourd, bottle squash, calabash gourd etc. are some of the familiar names. It have a cooling effect, hence helps from heat stroke, its juice is often given to kids. For the people trying to lose weight, bottle gourd is one of the best option to eat, it is low in calories and fat and is on high in dietary fiber. Bottle gourd also have properties that would help in in improving the digestion.

It interesting to know, apart from eating and relishing recipes, bottle gourd in India is used to make the Indian musical instruments, such as the tanpura, sitar and rudra veena, which are constructed from dried calabash gourds imported from specific cultivators of Africa region.

So here sharing my favorite and mom's recipe in detail with pictures, which is absolutely loved by my friends and hubby too.

Serves: 4 to 6 pax easily.

Ingredients for kofta:

  • a medium size bottle gourd : 1 nos.
  • small onion : 1 nos
  • garlic : 5-6 pods
  • ginger : 1 inch
  • green chilli : 1 nos.
  • coriander leaves : big bunch
  • coriander seeds : 2 tea spoon
  • cumin seeds : 1 tea spoon
  • black pepper : 4-5 nos
  • Salt : to taste
  • turmeric powder : 1/2 teaspoon
  • red chilli powder : 1/2 teaspoon
  • gram flour/ besan/ chana dal flour : 2 tablespoon
  • bread/ bread-crumb : 1 nos/ 1 tablespoon

Making of Kofta mix:

  1. Peel the gourd, discard the stem, grate the Bottle gourd/lauki/dhoodi atleast 2 cups.
  2. Fine chop the onion.
  3. Crush the garlic and ginger.
  4. Dry roast in the pan the cumin, coriander, black pepper seeds and crush them into the rough powder form.
  5. Mix the ingredients together with the gram flour and bread slice or bread crumb.

Making of the Kofta :

  1. Heat the oil in the deep pan for frying the balls/kofta.
  2. Mix all the ingredients and make small balls.
  3. The kofta balls should be smaller than the lemon size.
  4. Quickly add the tiny balls made up of the ingredients in the medium hot oil.
  5. Fry until golden brown and crisp from outside.
  6. Take them out on the tissue paper to extract all extra oil from the kofta.

Ingredients for the Gravy :

  • Oil : 1 tablespoon
  • Tomatoes : 2nos
  • Onion small : 1 size
  • Garlic : 4-6 pods
  • Cumin seeds : 1/2 teaspoon
  • Coriander seed : 1 teaspoon
  • Cinnamon stick : smaller than 1/2 inch
  • Red chilli powder : 1/2 tea spoon
  • Salt : to taste

Making of the Gravy :

  1. Heat the oil in the pan.
  2. Add the fine chopped onion and fry until glossy.
  3. Crush the garlic and add into the dry powder in the spices, mix well.
  4. Add the tomatoes either fine chopped or paste.
  5. Cook well, until the spices leave the oil.
  6. Then add water and bring into the running consistency.
  7. Let the gravy boil for 2 to 5 minutes on medium heat and then leave them to the rest.
  8. Add the balls/kofta into the gravy ones its is all ready and leave them for the while before eating.
  9. Garnish with coriander leaves and serve hot with rice or chapati/roti.

Note :

  • Ensure that the bottle gourd has a smooth skin, is pale green in colour and free from any cuts, spots and blemishes. It should be firm to handle and the flesh should not feel soft when pressed. The smaller the size the less the seeds would be inside.
  • The quantity of the spices can to altered according to the taste.
  • If the bottle gourd/lauki/dhoodhi after being grated leaves water, then squeeze the grated bottle gourd with your palm and keep the water aside.
  • This bottle gourd water can be reused into the gravy to add more nutrition and flavour.
  • I personally love to add extra fresh green coriander leaves to the kofta to give more fragrance.
  • The dry masala/spices added into the kofta/balls is the same spice added into the gravy. So one can make it extra while dry-roasting it.
  • While you are mixing the ingredients for the kofta, heat the oil simultaneously. This will not only save the time but also prevent the kofta ingredients to leave the water again.
  • The kofta balls must be fried as quickly as possible after the ingredients are ready.
  • You can store the fried ingredients in the freeze in air tight container for two days.
  • When I was a kid, I used to love to eat the kofta soon after it was fried.
  • Kofta are one of the most nutritious piece of food, full of bottle gourd and gram flour.
  • Gram flour very healthy ingredient and is also a binding agent.
  • Bread-slice or bread crumb also help in binding but most of all it helps in giving the right texture since bottle gourd when being grated start leaving lots of moisture which makes it a bit difficult to make the kofta.

Hope you enjoyed! Try making at home for a better change from the routine food :)

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04 September, 2013

When we are young

Spicy Saturday PickThis post have been selected by the popular Blog Website Blogadda as Amazing posts in Spicy Saturday Pick of the week on 7th September,2013.

This post was written back long time in July,2012, which I simply missed out posting being engaged into several other things. Somehow though missed, it was still lingering back into my head, which I had to share it with you all.

TWhat a beautiful moment it is today when co-incidentally got in touch after more than a decade with one of my very dear school-mate and a lovely bench companion. So this post after a long duration is dedicated to my adorable Mg(s), which will consist of two parts. True and very pure emotions in words... don’t know if the words justify the feeling but sure it brings back many new and old series of reminiscences. 48 hours and my childhood memories are back.

Recently went in an official meet attended by papa.
In the beginning, the only motive I had about the meet was only a way to have a little good time with papa after a long time. But things came up to me in such a beautiful manner. As I was busy sipping my wine and catching up some tit-bits, I was surprised to see kind of familiar faces. Kind of because it been decades not have met certain people and who used to be decades ago living like neighbours, just the next door people. I was watching some faces of people who are the parents of my friends, my school friends and some of my best friends, some friends still in-touch with me through facebook. I wonder how over the period of time we friends were connected through various social media yet lost being directly in touch with each other’s parents.

To me the parents of my friends are equally important like friends. Not just because they are the parents of my friends but some of them have been the source of inspiration of mine during my childhood. They loved me, adored me and encouraged me generously like their own kids, which cannot be forgotten. Their blessing, I know have definitely shaped my life for better. Above all they have been the friends of my parents, when they were young and some of them had been friends with my parents even before I was born. I have heard about them since childhood, the stories and fun they had being young chaps.

Holding a ladder of success, taking each step forward at times takes you far from the people we love; it’s difficult to take out time for them.
But O’ Sweet memories! It brought back the roller coaster effect of the rainbow moments of celebrating life together with a strange realization that someday I might face the same kind of emotions. Almost each one of them could recognise me instantly. May be not much I have changed over the years. Just as I meet them they instantly said ‘You might not be remembering me, you were so small then playing on road in school uniforms while going back home...’ However the matter of fact is I not only could recognise them but have never forgotten them ever in my life. Then wonder why I could not get in touch with them all.

Anyways, never too late I guess for talking to the people, about whom we always think and talk about. Amazingly almost all of them hardly know that we think of them and always miss them. Their presence has been always like a blessing and a feeling that someone truly care about you. That what is life after all, so many of them got retired, some even changed their company of job, some could not meet again due to frequent transfers and posting at different zones of the country yet memories are always refined, giving you the warmth still.

When people are young,
they live together yet in a competitive mode of life, where they want to do everything, from agreements to disagreements, nevertheless move ahead. However I understood, at the latter stage of life when almost everyone of us have achieved a lot, we no longer wish to run but stand together tall and applaud at each other’s achievements. Indeed its only latter stage of your life when you want to feel secured and such feeling can be acquired only with those people who knew you how exactly you were in your younger stage of life.

My best friend’s mom,
almost after 14 years met me almost unexpectedly in a huge gathering, was so miraculous moment. Yet the magic began when she could recognise me, just as she did, she cupped my face into her warm hands, hugging me so tight like never before. Her words echoed in my ears and I was almost chocked in my throat and was so sanely blank looking into her eyes and that familiar loving feeling like forever. Life have been so busy, for almost everything we work so hard, running throughout a day, losing breaths, yet the real faith, calmness, care, satisfaction we can get is only while your elders take their hands over your head and bless you unconditionally. It’s the blessing a bliss we all long for.

Moving around the world for work and other needs yet while getting time being in touch with the people whom we truly love and they know you well only brings you back closure to your strong ties with your culture, the traditions we adore and more or less the love shines consoling the soul. Standing in a crowd yet full of familiar old faces, now I realised memories have longer shelf life and at the back of our head everything is stored. We do not forget even a bit and same way the sweet memories of friends does not fades away that easily. And indeed often every small piece of the world conspires posing effortlessly to get together at the urging heart desire to meet, to hear and see the whole picture.

...there comes a point
in life
we realise
who really matters,
who never did and
who always will!
Talking to an old friend,
makes you apprehend how much your life has changed yet you still the same with same wave-length with some of them. Fortunately, in the internet age, though there are many ways to locate old friends online, no matter which country or timezone you are in, nevertheless at the same time, it's really very easy to miss the proclamation of connection.

But this is where we realise when we are starting to search and look for old pals. Making efforts to search, “Finding your long lost friends", honestly only brings a feeling to follow hope and not believe in an ugly despair. And a miracle to have made to discover out some after days and years spend in search indicates every little bit adding up into something immensely beautiful and accept as true genuine endeavour are never futile.

When we don’t talk enough with our the people we love, there’s a lot of wonderful stuff that ends up not getting conveyed. When we don’t spend enough time with the people you love and care so much, there’s a whole lot more of beautiful emotion that ends up not being felt blessed and appreciated. Nurturing our important selective relationships because those are the people we love them, it’s merely a sign to show and realise that we have already prioritized them into our schedule daily day. This little gesture could also be just a little “Hello!" over the phone.

However, I also believe that people come into our lives and stay for a reason, a season or a lifetime. New and old friends will expose you to new interests and introduce you to even more friends, so you are widening your scope on many fronts. Sure you need people in your life who adores you, appreciate, encourage, inspire, care and love you back (unconditionally). You definitely need to hold on to that bunch of beautiful people who believe in you. But if there are people in your life who do no good to you in anyway like above or vice-versa if you don’t contribute in someone’s life for enhanced and good, it’s better to simply letting go.
*It is true that you may say goodbye to some friendships you started long ago, but only if you both no longer have much in common. And it's natural to add friends and lose touch with others as you grow and evolve.

No matter what, it’s an irony that the people who sometimes can’t let go of someone or something for the fear of emptiness in their life, yet their spirits are being wasted away because they choose to feebly hold on to something they can’t control over. Perhaps positively at times removing some people from your heart completely creates a room for better people!
Moreover it’s wonderful to see that only people you need in your life are the one who needs you there, even when you have nothing to offer but just thyself !
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23 July, 2013

What not to wear!

functional, stylish, regardless of shape, height or age..

I am sharing what 'I Saw and I Learnt' at BlogAdda.com in association with DoRight.in.

IIt was a bright Sunday morning.
I got up early and happy to start a fresh new day. Well dressed in a nice short red tunic with my favorite brown skinny pants. I was with my friend. While getting down from the car in a bit of hurry, my tunic got somewhere stuck. I pulled my dress and got down the car hurriedly. I didn't realize until later I saw my tunic was a bit torn from the bottom being stuck in something pointed. It was so awkward. No wonder my friend's worried comments made me even more conscious of what suddenly happened and I was upset instantly. But luckily I had a safety-pin so I pinned it up. Moreover it was torn at the bottom of the frills so it wasn't that bad. One could notice only when one was intended to see. I went to her place and just when I was getting comfortable at her home, her mom came running to me to see how badly my dress was torn. My friend must have told her, I guessed. She was very concern. Soon a worried mother in her takes over and she said, "You girls must wear Indian dress. Girls look prettier in it and those dresses are safe and sober looking..."

Now I wonder what Indian clothes has to do with my torn tunic. But then I don't blame her, ask anyone sitting next to you will agree on wearing Indian dress as the most decent dress. I don't deny what 90% of Indian population thinks. The jeans can be used rough and tough but it's cool, it's comfortable to wear delicate Indian dress. However I still have my own few true moments of confrontations which cannot be ignored as well.

Reminding me of the most embarrassing day of my life.

A little thought-process: People in India keep forcing you to wear some friendly, well covered dress to look decent. Unfortunately this rule applies only on women. Girls must look neat and decently dressed to avoid any odd confrontations. However, it has been proven that what clothes one wears are not responsible for any kind of ill-behaviors they counterpart in public area. People think wearing tight jeans shows a lot of the figure, waist and prompt legs which is not good. Women wearing shorts or leggings or tank tops or halter neck are considered giving out the wrong signals. Although the saris when wore bare the midriff and half back is still considered sober. One must wear sari in celebration functions even when the temperature outside is 9 degree Celsius. Married women (specially in North-India) must cover their head all the time while wearing sari, being at their in-law's place. Now no matter how politely she speaks, she will be appreciated only if she follows certain clothing rules. Basically people want girls/women to wear more of Indian dress and believe this act shall safe-guard the Indian culture and keep women in control. Between a minister who said women who wear revealing western clothes ask to be raped, caught surfing porn in Assembly sometimes back!

Convenience and comfort is conveniently forgotten when it comes to the clothing of Indian girls. But they have no idea that there can be a bad day for someone despite of how decently one is dressed.

Long back when I was a college going girl.
As always wearing a nice tidy dress, went for my training covering a two hours journey by bus and followed by local-daily-train. Coming back in the evening in the fully packed bus it was utterly difficult even to put down a foot.

I could not imagine what my life could turn up next decent moment. My life's one of the most embarrassing moment which has been never shared with even my mother till this date. However, I am getting brave and hence sharing this black day of my life with you, my dear readers.

My stop was arriving and I was about to get down the bus.
I was slowing trying to make my way to the bus door. Just when the bus stopped I thought to get down and was stepping slowly holding a grip of the bus door's handle. The bus took few jerks and I was about to fall down. To save myself from falling down from the bus, I abruptly jumped off the slow moving bus.

I was just a teen, nineteen years old something and could not realize what was I doing until I saw myself hoping almost firstly in front of the car which was overtaking a bus from the wrong side. For all those people who think driving in India is difficult and one must religiously follow to break rules must think twice before they really practice that. Between scold me for jumping off the bus and risking the life but don't blame me completely for being in front of the car, which came a wrong way of it's own.

I was lucky that the car stopped and did not drive over me or else I wasn't writing this article today. Before I could calm myself down to feel my senses suddenly other girl standing at the bus-stop yelled, 'Oh! look at your dress...' I was surprised for a moment since I knew I wore a good nice free-flowing Indian dress 'Salwar-Suit' so what could happen to it or me then. To my shock my suit was completely torn from the side waist to arm-pit revealing a lot more than you can imagine. I was standing in the middle of the road and found everyone's eyes were on me or should I say eyes were on my waist and above part of the body. I instantly covered myself with the 'Dupatta'(kind of stole) and walked away. My free-flowing dress must have got stuck somewhere between the people and crowd. And must have torn when pulled forcefully while getting down the bus.

A long route was a longest journey that day.
My home was still far and I was then supposed to catch a train to home. I was so shocked that I couldn't even think of crying. Everything was blur to me then. I couldn't believe this bad could ever happen with me ever. For weeks I felt like eyes were still staring at me. It was a very difficult moment to go through. Worst was awaited, when I reached home I realized it was a Diwali day (festival of lights). Everyone was enjoying at home preparing for the festival. In excitement of the festival may be nobody noticed my condition. My mom asked me to change quickly and come down. She had purchased a new Indian dress for me which was lying on the bed up stairs. I quickly ran upstairs into the bedroom, locked it and fall down on my week knees. I was exhausted. I kept staring a blank wall with an absolute blank mind. Not speculating anything, just staring dumb. The flashes of the incident occurred in my mind constantly. Later I heard mom calling, I changed my dress and threw my torn dress on the floor.

I was upset...
But, I didn't cry.
I was angry!

I hated everyone who said to wear Indian dress and considered Indian dress as one of the most decent dress. The Indian dress doesn't reveal a lot of body since it is more of a free-flowing dress.
But that extra cloth or a free-flowing portion of cloth can get stuck somewhere and one can be into the most awkward moment of their life.

I have seen so many girls/women sitting with husbands and boyfriend sitting at the back seat of the bike in the most happy moods. And they hardly care how their clothes are flying while going in the high-speed on two-wheeler. The dupatta could get stuck in the back wheel and both can fall down risking their life. But who cares!

I have even seen women wearing sari the utmost Indian decent dress their free-flowing dress getting burnt by the candle or lamp while doing festival rituals risking life. But it's festival and traditional dress must be worn. Definitely who cares if with crackers the dress also catches fire.

Of course, such incidents/accidents can happen no matter what dress we are wearing and I am a complete fool writing this post! If you think so, well I am not here to deny or justify...

Between it not just the dress you need to wear which you can carry it gracefully but no matter what you wear just take extra care where your clothes are flowing. It is romantic when with the breeze the stole fly and comes over the face of the beloved but it can endanger when the stole comes on his face while he is driving. Think about it..!

I saw and I learnt clothing or covering the body was a rule everywhere only applied in women.
I saw and I learnt that it was not about being against rudely some rules made by the society or by political conflict but it was about spread aŵareness. A healthy change is to learn and understand that it is the cultured character shaping up you and not your clothes that fitted well! Be free from any rule that abide you from being happiness.

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20 July, 2013

The Past is always Perfect

pieces that makes picture of past...

A As a growing up kid, I had a very good memory to remember things.
Not that I had that ultra sharp mind to learn by heart the mathematics multiple tables or memorize the table of metals and their properties but I could retain the little things, a little longer than others.

Little things actually sums up to the moments which might change or enhance the life in the long run. It was never a forceful act to evoke, but interestingly anything and everything occurring into life was by default printed in album of memories in my mind. Be it a good bright page, bad black page or a shadow of grey, every moment was supposed to read, to learn from, and to be cherished in the book of experience and innocence.
Forgetting the past to me meant like unwilling to face the mistakes done and hesitant to learn. Perhaps, learning is ageless. One must keep learning and practicing their skills as in a pursuit of perfection. Indeed as Willa Cather's saying goes "There are some things you learn best in calm and some in storm".
Learning is after all the synonym for Life.

Gradually as I was learning and making a list of things, my likes or dislikes, my choices and my beliefs, I further learnt that at times we need to move on. To move on was a sign of letting go of things.

Letting things go from some habits, people, ideas, desires, expectations, is always the hardest part of the life to face. Only difference between 'the lost and letting things go' is that one does not have any control over the lost and on the other hand one chooses consciously to let go things respectively. Basically at the end in the both conditions one tries hard to cope up with the change and tries setting oneself free to fly high and embrace new positive possibilities. It is not the easy step one takes on to overcome hurdles of uncertainties and accepting the circumstances wholeheartedly. However, those are the turning points and are greatest memories which we look back on our lives. Until our memories shape up into a glorifying past, we read back and forth, fine-tune it, forget what we want to forget and revise to remember and emphasize in all the good things, bending the best way with the interpretations and elucidation of the experience.

Over the period of time and hassle, the words evaporates from the whole picture of the past perceived. This picture of past blends well with colours of the feeling which actually never changes, it remains the same, tastes the same! And now we know for sure how we want to present that personal piece of history to people. I personally enjoy providing a fabric to the story!

I believe in stories.
I believe that the stories never really end, even while we are reading them in the books. The stories always go on. They neither end on the last page nor does it start from the first page of the book. There is always a lot left untold, pretended and presumed before it begins from the first page, after it actually rolling ends at the last page and sooner than the book is snapped shut. Eventually every experience becomes a story to share someday.
Pouring out the part of the story we are holding back.
Subsequently all the messed up things, today those are the moments marked where we did not lose hope, where we suffered yet supported strongly to mend up and bravely make up to the brag. Sometimes the past makes up well equipped to further face the bigger disaster. The picture of the past seems perfect at present beyond compromise, beyond reason, beyond promise and beyond peace, beyond love and beyond any loss.

Nevertheless, I was moving on but with memories! They are moments to cherish and celebrate.

I value the things from which I have learnt the most.
Perhaps, those things have been let go due to strange situations.
Yet I found out that most of the worth things I adore are somehow the lost one.

...really good time sometimes are already the one we regret
the end of it..
May be I feel that I gained more and lost less. I gained strength, I learnt to move forward, gained more determination to focus and the good list goes on. May be the lost is significant because of the perfect memory constructed in mind. They never fade. They though been lost, do not lose the charm. They never rusted. They are made up of the tough yet in high spirits series of memoirs, be it good or bad, they still been so far the best recollections. Those memories of ones we had turn brighter, enlightening, which only grows rosier day by day with the revision. They are made up of hopes, putting our faith in aspirations and dreams of magnificent things could have been. A hypothesis of eternal ‘if it could have happen’ should never bear with the fact of reality of non-existence. Yet no matter whether it dwells or not, really good time sometimes are already the one we regret the end of it. The lost is the love, the commitment, the excitement, the joy, the bliss and the growth that occurred in the passion we posses. Those are ours to keep them secured forever to feel the warmth.

Perhaps only things we no longer have due to fluttering tranche time ticking, have been so flawlessly real that it will always be poise to perfect eternal in our memories in the final trumpet destiny-destination of life.

It's very much like before you participated in a running race, you aspired, aimed and thought of winning the race which will eventually follow a grand success party, cheers and celebration by friends and family. Yet after all that what you thought, the running race did not turn up like it could have, you might have not won not even near to the catch. Against all the odds, loss and agony you go through in looking at the broken promises and dreams, you try thinking that in-spite of all the hurdles and tough time, you sincerely participated in the contest. It gave you bliss and joy even if it was for a while. It made you feel blessed, loved and cared. You literally lead the best in the marathon of memories and above all the experience counts. Finally, I’m glad that it happened (even if it was hypothetically)...  

Indeed, this is a marvelous moment to remind myself that I'm in the present and my thoughts which I'm sharing right now are coming from my past. Hence, Past is Past, past is and has to be always perfect to me!

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07 July, 2013

Lets have a conversation

heart to heart..

W When the sentences are incomplete but make full sense within seconds of the blinking candid eyes. A successful small talk does not command tossing up a tired opening line, to impress to be in a limelight. Where picking up words won’t be difficult for one chooses a flow in feeling. Further never difficult to pick and start right from where it has been left off, be it over the months, years or decades.

A single sigh is a sign of a sound sound. How I wished it was easy to talk nevertheless much comfortable to understand. There are some things in common nonetheless at different poles of chronicle. Where crawling across the sky, slowly until gusts rise and speed up the sentiments of the story echoing in the empty space of synergy.

Where the glory is listening
and beauty is in telling!

How I wished the circumstances would not control the colour of our talks.
As we stop chasing and come closer, the clearer the picture gets. The secret lies in believing that it’s never the end but beginning of the endless voyage of celebration. Not losing any chance of chatter, whiff out in world of words. Comic-notes need not to be explained, nor do they sail over the other person’s head.
There lies magic when the little humble hands that illustrate the bunch of infinite words. Well, sometimes our talk is just okay, sometimes it’s comfortable, sometimes wonderful, sometimes boring and sometimes unpleasant. At times we whisper, swallow, blabber, stammer, murmur, gabble and yet sometimes we simply speak sense. If the talk is not perfect, it just another time to sparkle and enthuse commune again. Find spark even if it's a slow-burn.

Where an undertone whispers, shouts, stirrer and settles over the top over the whole lot.
It’s a stolen moment, a slice of life, shocking and surprising at the same time shared while stepping forward through the shadow and shades. Taking a piece out, everything falls apart perhaps it’s all conjures connected.

Sometimes we step aside our conventional way of thinking, we step up above all the scattered thoughts and said-unsaid words, only to try and see a big large whole picture which we have been missing for a while to watch.
Up till then there are times we hold back a breath before it slips and spills all the beans.
We know there is still something incredible left to behold.
However when a silly rumour murmured, it creates a buzz. Where the lines on the lips which are neither re-framed nor tangled, the phrases are free and the courage chase the rhyme of the heartbeat.

When the expression of the emotions is not judged or measured by the majority or weight but patiently waited to watch the precisely perfectly, the stillness, silently secretly survive after every blink pursued by the curve on the lips. Perhaps, silences are not awkward!

I realised, the rarest, the bravest tales are the one with broken ends thus far gathered integrated with hope, harmony and a lesson filled with bracing compassion. It's fulfilling for a while at-least, sheltering each other from the cruel world. Here being in the cocoon, there is a collective spirit in the crowd, with chaos around, creativity hounds, new chapters, old characters filled with novel ink calmly wraps words with compliment. Every little bit counts and contributes in continuing their commitment to complete a conflict-free conversation.

Such a simple concept, all I know,
all I can comprehend how I wished there was a conversation followed with the CHEMISTRY! Just camaraderie!

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03 November, 2012

Wrinkles tale

my little baby-steps to cope up..

Just like any other person I have my piles of troubles.
Even I worry a lot, at times for little things more than anything.
Honestly most of times it’s the little things that gives me challenges to lead a proper life. After all just breathing or merry-go round is not the only thing to focus about. We need to have a nice healthy lifestyle too. Difficult to ignore and yes stress almost these days over takes everyone’s life in a very creepy manner.

...every wrinkle or line have series of stories behindto be shared...
Problem is actually not a problem; important thing in life is how we manage such moments in life when we feel like we are losing on everything. Hopelessly helpless yet keeping the positive attitude is something we must tame our minds to learn. And almost every time we forget that Love and laughter are the two things we must focus on to celebrate our living and Keep the spark ALive..
Changes in the circumstances and human body shall always take place. Rather than working on avoiding wrinkles only to look good physically we must be encouraged to learn accepting the changes. Aging gracefully, being healthy and fit matters the most.

True beauty is not just the radiance airbrushed on the face but also the recognition and respect we receive from the people around us for the significance of wonderful work investing time and patience in the development of our family’s well being and work-place, we do. And where wrinkles are the expressions frozen in time and are the way to signpost of the journey of remarkable life.

To me wrinkles document the emotions we have experienced.
In our youth, if ‘we frown’ more, we tend develop lines around the forehead. With every laughter and smile, happy face like an enlightening worthy soul, we develop lines at the sides of lips and the corners of eyes as we grow old.

Here, interestingly the lines define how we lead our life, wrinkles weave the tales of the way the time was spent.

However, I will aim to measure my success of life, my value as a person, as a friend, a lover and most merely as a human being not just by watching the wrinkles on my face but also by counting the number of laugh lines found on ‘Your face’.

This is also a way to share a wish that we shall be together forever, growing much stronger. Just as I wish, we together shall embrace warmth in wrinkles and celebrate long and prosperous years of life spent with someone you truly love.

Note : The above picture includes My mother, with her enchanting smile in warmth and grace in her eyes.
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda
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30 October, 2012

Finally Found You - Part 10

This is a series of love.
~ For I don’t hate-love-story!

II could make a sense that she had those some mixed emotions.
She had no idea, whether she should cry, or shout in madness, be angry or feel glad that finally we met. She could not figure out was she acting smart or utterly stupid, was it all good or only bad. I believe same was my situation, but I was thinking everything keeping her in my mind. I had promised myself that this time I will not do anything that hurts her in any way. Everything will be just like as she wants, as she wishes to be, as she likes it to be. And only reason was that I wanted her in her happiest expression always. She meant so much to me which suddenly I could compose thoughts with her gestures and grace.

Soon she slowly moved her free hands around my neck and it did feel like missing all these years something I definitely owe. I pulled her much closer to me, very gently not to scare her by any means. I was aware of her delicate cold body and trembling lips.

I slowly leaned giving her every chance to pull away but she didn’t.

As I place my lips on her, she almost melted down in my arms. She was all my now. She looked at me between her eye-lashes and soon I kissed her ones more.

This time it was much more passionate kiss and I certainly knew that I will not freak out now on her anymore, neither for yesterday night nor for anything that happened some long years ago. Then it happened and her lips touched mine. I was so lost.

Just then she softly whispered, “I can’t...”

Before she could complete her sentence, I felt tense. I thought I lost her again. She could make a change in my facial expressions almost clueless about everything.

Just as she continued saying, “I can’t go, I won’t, and I will always be here for you like always like forever for infinity!”

I looked into her deep eyes and couldn’t stop myself saying my heart out,
“My skin, My hair will grow old but my heart holds everything forever trust me, my moods..My attitude..My thoughts will change, But I am here and will be here always life moves and goes on, but I am here, always here, things will be hard, Challenging, but still I live to fight every day I am super human!
I haven’t learn how to give up on you, I never give up
..I am human and I don’t think back I look ahead always, I am here”

She smiled looking at me acknowledge my words.
I felt nice after everything happened between us.

The time stopped, the world stood still, it was only me and her alone, no one else around.

There was no more nervousness, no stress at all. Sometimes silence is the best, especially in love. The more you use words, speak to express, the more confusing it gets. Something I understood, no explanation would justify the time we lost, living far away missing some truly memorable moments. Yet it was worth to acknowledge the experience instead.

I was no more regretting to kiss a little nineteen years old girl.
She was now even more beautiful than what I remembered.

But yes she was the same little girl who had learnt a lesson from her first heart break in the long run. I was going to kiss her again; I lowered my head and kissed her on her forehead.

I soon figured out that the unsaid words shall haunt me more than ones I said. So, I wanted to pour in today. Pulling back out the lost breaths, revealing the essence the scent of my little princess, I dropped my knees, holding her tiny soft hands into mine.

She was a bit awestruck but I was determined of my decisions of making her mine without any further doubts.

“You have craved my heart for so long. I would be lying if I said not at times I did not long for you.
So many years without realising the mistakes made. I had gone crazy, chasing after you and I thought I would never find you again. Now that I understand everything, I don’t want to waste even a minute without you. I want to see your bright eyes when you wake up to the new morning. I wish to feel the slow and steady rhythm of your breathing, rocking me into calm sleep. For all the nights when I wanted to be with you, by your side, for all those moments when I wanted to hold your hands, for all those tough days I wanted your hug badly, my little baby!! Will you put me out my own misery; accept me as a part of your life, where we can create our own colourful world and do the honours of being my wife. Just be with me for the rest of our life to share love and growing stronger in love, in each other’s arms...”

I held my breath, waiting for her answer looking into her eyes in search of ‘Yes’ to get converted in words. She stood there still, not a word spoken, I was scared of something unexpected.

She bent down still not a word spoken in reply but wrapped me around her arms placing her lips on mine!

“Is that Yes?!” I asked being still unsure and puzzled.

“Yes Yes Yesss!!!” She screamed with joy, a soft giggle turning into laughter could only soothe my weary soul and wipe all the tears. She was happy, holding me tight and hugged me just like she always owes me.

I am what I have become, no special ingredient trust me, in just most honest and simple way I can say what I have all said is that I am all your! I exclaimed in pleasure. Light have its silver way to come when it has to through the dark clouds, fixing everything and fall upon.
For me fall has finally fallen to enlighten my life just as I finally found her!

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