A Bowl of Elusive

Here's a little poem I wrote way back when I was in middle school. I know posting in on Mother's Day is kind of anti-climactic, but there is darker side of motherhood and I wish everyone knew it. Mothers are little nice things Always associated with love. The mother I know of Is pretty different. The mother I know ( Forgive me O Divinity) Would rattle your senses And challenge your sanity. The mother who left her child To die, at a tender age of three. What sorrows, what grievances She had, I know not yet. The mother I know Made the little soul cry; What stuff was she made of? So cruel and so dry. The little child, motherless left Never blamed her for that; Yet the sorrow could not subside Nor could it run, neither hide. But how can these wounds Be ever healed? What medicine, what miracle Can substitute for a mother's love? This mother I tell you, Would never know How it is to be A motherless child. When lyrical lilt of love And meand...

We don't give death that much of thought. While so many communities believe in the concept of an after-life, I have never bought into the premise. I think when a person dies, they stop to exist. Because the identity of a person is more than their body, it's who they are, their relationships with others and their interactions. Death brings an abrupt end to the whole thing. I know because I have lost three of my closest family members in the last two decades.  "On the 8th of March, 2000, I lost my father. He'd been suffering from kidney failure and after a seven month ordeal followed by eight days in a coma, he opened his eyes, looked at me, smiled and passed away. My memories of him were that of a hero. I had worshipped him all my life. There was nothing he couldn't do. He loved me more than anything. And I'll never forget him." That's how I summarize my father or his memory, when somebody asks. Somewhere down the line, his whole role in my l...

"A feeling which soon became a verse, a flood and a storm. Do read this poem with a lovelorn heart and celebrate new-found love." Ab jiye thoda aur, ke phir mar jaye hum? Tere labon pe hasi dekh thoda bikhar jaye hum. Tere aankhon mein shararat ka tinka sa jo hai, Usi tinke ke chaaro or aaj simat jaye hum. Tujhse koi rishta ho na ho, koi lagav sa lagta hai, Marham tadapte dil pe, aaj ghaav sa lagta hai, Tu dekh le aaj aankhon se, aur dil shadaab kar de. Haathon mein tera haath ho to sach bhi zara khwaab sa lagta hai. Teri ek jhalak paane ko dil ab bekaraar sa rehta hai, Lafzon mein mere na chahte hue bhi kuch ikraar sa rehta hai, Gaye dinon mein haar aur thokar ka aadi tha jo dil, Aaj tere siyasat mein wahan kuch pyaar sa rehta hai. Tera saath na mile to bhi aaj shayad ghum na karun, Bichad jayein aaj hum to bhi yeh aankhein nam na karun, Ye dil ajeeb hai, awaraa aaj tere haj pe nikla hai, Raah pe agar aaj zakhm mile, to bhi ye ibadat ...

Love stories through the years have led you to believe that all connections are instant and sudden. That people just fall in love at first sight, and live happily ever after. If you're older than twenty years of age, chances are that you're already disillusioned with that notion. You know better than to believe that fairy tales exist. You have lived the "real life" where meeting new people is a tedious task, putting yourself out there feels like a real burden and liking someone, genuinely liking someone doesn't come easily.  So when Ishika and Siddhant met for the first time, neither of them was naive or inexperienced enough to believe in 'love at first sight' or anything remotely similar to it. They had both had their own share of relationships and heartbreaks and were just exploring something new. Ishika in fact had no intention for it to be anything more than an evening out with a new guy. Siddhant was cautiously optimistic. Blind dates hadn'...

You know how some people have such profound effect on your life that you associate certain things with them forever? Yeah, that was the case with this girl and Vasant Kunj. I’d forever associate Vasant Kunj with her. She calls herself Archie, her parents call her Achu, she’s Archana on the dotted line, but for me, she’ll forever be “the Gold-digger of Vasant Kunj”. See how I copied Vladimir Nabokov’s prose style? Yeah, this one deserves Lolita-level luscious language. (Also killing it with the alliteration. Ha ha.) Before I dive into the story, let me introduce myself. I stand at about five feet nine, have a very sharp nose and a lean body. I grew up in an orthodox Jaat family till about the age of twelve after which my father moved to Delhi and got me admitted into a convent school. Halleluiah for that! So understandably, I am a confused soul, sophisticated in some aspects and earthy in others. I usually speak in a faux British accent, slipping into Haryanvi when using Hindi wo...

I have always looked at human relationships from the perspective of an outsider. You can attribute this to the fact that my upbringing was less usual than others. If you read my blog, you know about my childhood, the fact that I was orphaned at an early age and was brought up by my father's parents. All relationships have been difficult for me to understand. I have written in length about my chemistry with my family and my old flames. But another relationship I haven't written much about is friendship. I usually had a tough time making friends. It was just one of those things that allude you. There wasn't anything I was doing wrong, there was just a lack of  the basic connection.  I did make some friends along the way, but when I look back at those friendships today, I can't help but feeling they weren't normal. You know, take for example, Buddhadev, one of my very first friends in the second standard. He and I were both a little nerdy back then and maybe tha...

The Ramayana, an epic tale of good vs evil, is an amazingly written holy scripture. I am especially impressed by the complexity of it's characters and their motivations. Think about it and the characters seem more grey than black & white. Any story is as good as it's antagonist and you'd all agree with me when I say that Ravana is the most impressively layered character in the Ramayana. Half Brahaman, half Raakshas, a stoic devotee of Shiv Ji, Ravana's life evolves from that of a yogi to that of a man seeking revenge. And add to that his ten heads, which is a metaphor for intelligence or power, I presume, and you have a winner in all aspects. The first time I read the Ramayana, I perceived it as anyone would. Black and white. Good vs Evil. But as I grew up, I started seeing the characters in a whole different light. Once you start weighing the actions of each character against today's sensibilities, your perception evolves. For example, once you really th...