I spoke a lot

And then I stopped

I wrote a lot

Then I stopped

Silence was me communicating

My aloofness was me communicating 

My love was dying, breathing its last

But then the loud waves of the ocean

Broke the silence in me

Sang the rhythm of the sad song

And I too sang along

My face had sprinkles of water of the ocean

or so I thought

It was tears finally

And I felt something shifting within me

Something coming to surface

The dark clouds of sadness finally found its way

Through tears, poured my heart

And a smile had its way

I still feel the void in my heart

But now I know this stillness is required

I am healing

Nature healed me

Thank you Ocean!

For you carry not just the heavy water within you

But the secrets of everyone who come to visit you

You read hearts

And you read minds

You show us what being mighty means

It means to forgive

It means to give

It means to move on

It means to stay still

It means to mop and sweep

The cobwebs of old, disturbing memories

You taught me to love myself

You taught me to live again

Oh Ocean, you are truly deep!

Literary Festival 2022 at Indo-American Arts Council (IAAC)

 A walk amidst the crisp, chilly autumn air in New York was pure and magical. The winds and the leaves were in a symphony. The leaves were dancing to the tunes of the autumn air, and silence was music. The leaves were rustling beneath my feet. I picked one beautiful red maple leaf and tucked it in my book as a bookmark. I was in a reverie with a good book, tea and a friend. Isn't that ideal for a person who loves to read?

Lucky me, as I was going to get what I so wanted! Good books, a big yes! A friend, yes! But not just one or any, but many and all authors. I was going to the literary festival 2022 at the Indo-American Arts Council (IAAC). At first, I felt alienated as I didn't know anyone. But warm smiles followed the event, and as if I knew everybody, I started enjoying myself while getting absorbed into the literary talents around me. The faces we see at the back of the books were standing right there in front of me. I was in awe of them. There were these strong personalities and literary figures with not just stories to tell but inscribing thoughts and values in their writings. 

This literary event took me into an academic space where all the literary talent was there for me to absorb. A place where authors matter. Their thoughts matter. It was a haven for readers and writers alike. One could speak their mind and share their views freely.

The smell of books for me weirdly makes me calm down, the new fresh smell of books! Yes, it's a thing! Reading blurbs and through blurbs, the ideas, the illustrations, the cover pages, the authors signing and smiling, and the stalls where all the books lay exhibited for attention was all so refreshing, evoking the writer in me to share my work in future. Their content was so rich with words and ideas that I couldn't help but buy a few books right there and then, autographed by authors who will soon be a part of my thoughts and life once I begin reading their work. 

It was an event that few attended, but many should have. We had Priya Kumari, an author with colorful books and even more colorful descriptions of the festivals of India. A lot of authors speak about Indian festivities and food, and culture, but very few know the art to capture the authenticity behind these cultures. In comes Priya Kumari, a woman, a mother, and an entrepreneur with her own publishing house, Eternal Tree Books, encouraging more authors like her and providing a platform for budding authors. She strikes a chord with children, and my child enjoys reading her books. 

Then there was Ananta Ripa Ajmera, The Way of the Goddess writer. She is an Ayurvedic practitioner and a spiritual teacher. In her book, she talks about how some daily rituals can awaken our inner warrior and how we discover our true selves. Her observations and learnings are genuinely insightful. This book will never leave my bedside table. It was a dream and delight to have my favorite Deepti Naval among the authors. Once an artist, always an artist and her art come in various forms. She is an actor and now a writer with her book A Country Called Childhood.

It was my first time meeting Ms Trehan, author of The Very Best House in Town. Her soft voice, learned ways, and unique viewpoints could not be missed. Ms Khoda, too had some learned insights to share with everyone. Her poise and answers spoke about her experience in the publishing field. She was kind enough to have gifted me a book for my son. The book is titled Somnath Hore: Wounds. Through the work of art by Somnath Hore, the story talks about real wounds, the hard-hitting topics such as famine and death conveyed to children through the medium of art. It's beautiful and tearful at the same time. It's interactive and wants parents to talk to kids about these facts in a way they would feel and understand the wounds. 

These were the in-person sessions that I attended. However, I missed the virtual sessions of my favorite Barkha Dutt, whose book is on my 'want-to-read' list. It's about the rural life of India during Covid. I was intrigued by another book, "Murder at the Mushaira." I loved the plot. I am sure to look into the reviews of this book. 

Please let me know if you have read any of these books and how you like them. I would also like to read detailed reviews.  

I Am Sorry I Don’t Love You

My letter to society

I am sorry I don’t love you

Coz I know you don’t love me either

And I am done with this one-sided love story

I haven’t taken anything from you...

To return to you

I am done being nice to you

And yet I’d be

Coz that’s how I am brought up to be!

I don’t love you anymore and never more than my folks and family

I refuse to leave behind me the memories of fear and being cornered just because of my experiences with you, oh society,

I should’ve fought, yes! I should’ve stood for my team, my family, yes, yes!

But I gave in to your pressures

And you didn’t care for me

You still weren’t impressed

And you never shall be!

Coz you know how to be authoritative

And slave is not me!

This goodbye letter doesn’t end with any best wishes for you from me

And yet I wish the best for you coz you are a reflection of us, of who we have made you to be

Although I am going to live with you, co-exist with you but I’d care and love myself and my own without you having to support me

I won’t pray you anymore neither look for validation from you

Coz I don’t really care and yet I care about you

I don’t coz you won’t and I do coz I live with you and in you, oh society!

You and your people just know how to make life miserable,

And I don’t bow to such Lords who hold captive the innocent in fear

I’d rather be and stay strong and hold close those who are my dear

And lastly, please mind your own business and don’t dare to comment again on my loved ones or me

Coz I never asked for your opinions and your judgement you can keep to yourself

Coz you’ve decided to rot from within

While I want to uplift myself 

You are a quicksand and you will pull me back into you

Yet again I will think of how I present myself before you

Or so you may think and I will let you think so

But I have understood one thing 

That you’re neither a friend nor foe

Whatever you are, you won’t change for me

And whether you do or not, I declare myself free

Free from you and your ideas about me

Free from your lovers and guardians

Oh society, just let me be! 

I Want Another Life

 I want another life…

To correct the incorrect

To right the people I wronged

To care more

To love more

To meet my loved ones for sure

To give more

To gain more

To dream yet again

To deserve what I got for free 

And therefore…

I want another life,

And another and yet another

Coz no matter how many lives I take

I cant give back what I got from my family

I can never settle the score

Oh God, you have blessed me with so much for sure

And yet I shamelessly ask for more… 

More chances, 

Or

At least one 

To give and do what I am here for!

Cracks are Beautiful

 Every relationship goes through three phases. The third one is the most dicey part. It speaks more about you. First phase is what we think is the most beautiful phase, its all about expressing and impressing. There is no bad impression ever. It is always good. The vibes have already done it for you. You both like each other. The first smile that catches your attention, you can say that the other person likes you. The cliched “butterflies in the stomach” feeling, the loop de loop thought of the first touch, the first kiss is beyond the word “happiness”. The glow on your face, the blushing, the planning of more meetings, the restless waiting in between all defines this beautiful first phase. 

The second phase is of course that of commitment and responsibility is playing hide and seek with us. We commit because we cant stay without seeing our significant other. We want to wake up with them, spend the day, every memory with them. But there is no more impressing one another. We are now in our comfort zone, we are more friends than lovers. The love starts to wear off. We keep it alive with fun times, outings and memories of good times. We slowly settle in like roommates and not just spouses. The outer world makes us realize time and again that we are married causing a scar, the responsibilities are shared. Just like it happens between siblings, couples too have slip ups and miss out on their share of responsibilities could be carelessness or just some lazy moments. The procrastination then causes a fight. We start missing our blood family who took all the s**t and yet let us be us. We refuse to grow up. We want to see our spouse as that missing parent who will take crap. And that’s never gonna happen. 

The quarrels and arguments lead to more talk. That’s when you realize actions don’t speak louder than words. Words are louder in real, abusive sometimes when spoken in anger, hurtful beyond imagination, Pang! The softest corner of your heart is hurt, leaving a scar that wont be forgotten in times to come. The weaknesses shared in good times now come as a thrashing blow on your face. You cant take it. The arguments that seemed trivial earlier now suddenly are the elephant in the room. You cant ignore, you cant deal with! 

Time is a healer and so you patch up, more so, because you want that uneasiness to end. You want better times ahead. The good memories make you give a benefit of doubt that it was all not meant to be an attack on you, it was just a rough patch, bad mood or whatever it is that you deem fit to apply. 

Now comes the hardest part. Again things get happier, but time and again you are reminded of the hurt with future fights that crop up from the same on going issue as that issue never found its closure. Open wounds hurt most. 

What would you choose? Most couples move on, forgiving and forgetting all of these moments along the way, brushing it aside under some carpet that never has to be rolled up. But your human brain stores these memories in your subconscious. You take it as an experience and you change your behavior based on these very experiences. You are not the same person like you were in the first phase. Neither is your partner. So what makes me say that cracks are beautiful? You don’t realize but you are bonding. Just like you bonded with your sibling who drove you crazy during your growing years and even for a fraction of second you wished they weren’t there in your life. But you spiral back to them. It is the same with your spouse. 

You rebounce, renounce sometimes, and rewind the same memories in your brain. 

These very cracks then form your story. Your own love story! What story without twists and turns, without hurdles and celebrations and accomplishments and sad phases and craziness. We can never forget we are all humans and we aren’t always proud of the things we do. Every person has had such moments in their life that they are ashamed of their actions during that one such phase. There is a saying “Vinaash kale viprit buddhi” in Hindi. It means when the times are bad, our mind makes wrong decisions and results in bad actions. To forgive and forget with your heart is the way we grow together. Remember, marriage is not just to live together but to grow together. When the storm comes, hold your hands tightly, don’t let go or you wont survive and if you do, you will be left alone in the island called life. 

So I leave you to create more cracks, mend them and make beautiful love stories! 

I Love Rainy Days…

I like the slick wet roads and the reflection of lights on those

I love how the dull colors of the sky make everything else look so brighter

When looking out of the window, you see every umbrella a different color and character

The drops of water on the window panes give me the feeling like when your thirst is quenched

The first thing that comes to my mind is to forget the world and get all drenched

Then there are these happy trees

Loving the rains, you can say

Coz they are swaying happily

And looking all clean and green today

It is on these days that the tea tastes much better

Beyond looking at the rain, and hearing the pitter-patter

Nothing else is worth a mention

But the fluttering pages of the book want my attention

The puddles, sitting for hours and looking at the clouds for different characters and shapes

These were the memories of childhood that we left in haste

Every memory seems fresh in my mind

It’s like I am reliving my past for some happiness to find

I pick up my phone to call my parents and siblings

And share stories and laugh, a laugh of love

I feel like a peaceful dove.

On a rainy day, there is a tear in my eye of happiness and emotions welled up

Talking about this, my mind trailed off

Embarking on a journey of its own

Every year on my birthday, the rain God blesses my day

I make sure to take the blessings in the most humble way

Although sunny days are a favorite of most

To a beautiful rainy day, I raise a toast.

The pitter-patter of rain drops turning into rain shower, 

The nature is a unique blend of beauty and power,

It communicates in such wonderful ways

Not leaving a soul alone, these rains leave a trace

Petrichor emanating from the thirsty, dry earth

The freshness left behind is like new birth

These raindrops leave their miraculous touch

Of lifting my spirits, of making me feel loved so much

For that every drop of rain on my face, I have to lift up my head

Lift my head, I do…but I make sure to bow

To heavens above, 

As these very rains remind me to be grateful for all there is, 

The sunshine, the rainbow 

and

The Rain! 💦 

Beauty in You Lies in the Eyes of the Child that Comes from Within You

Nearing 40, I see the difference. Subtle though, but I can see the 20s youth is not what my skin shows. 

I was really bothered by it all. What serums to use, how to keep a taut skin, how to hold on to my younger days! Not that I am old yet but I believed everything I heard and read about the importance of skin regime. 

When with friends and family, having good times, these things were the last on my mind. But when alone, I kept obsessing about this topic. So much so that, I didn’t realize I am losing out on some real good moments with my child here. 

Once when I was hooked on to binge watching videos on the topic, filling my amazon cart list with beauty products, wanting to look cool on insta, checking the make up I had since my early 30s, checking my skin for marks, trying to find a decent shade of lipstick and wearing it whilst noticing hyperpigmentation spots and so on, my son came to me and said, “Mamma, don’t apply lipstick!”

I looked at him and asked, “Why? I gotta look pretty na!”

He immediately told me, “No, You ARE the prettiest. Can you make that mousy face, so we can play?” He asked. 

We played this game where I would pretend to be a mouse and chase him around the house. I would sniff him and that would tickle him. He would laugh so much when every time I speak in a squeaky, mousy voice and tell him that he smells like yummy yummy cheese and I would relish him. 

I made that mouse-like face by wrinkling up my nose, half thinking about the fine lines that appear with all these facial gestures. To hell with that, who cares! I just left everything and suddenly I really didn’t care at all. I was back into the game and was jumping on the bed with him and busy with my pillow fights and making a pretend dungeon with the blanket and so on…

That’s my love story!

I love how I look when I look at myself through my son’s eyes. 

Sure, when we reach a particular age or a point in life, we seek validation for our beauty. I, for sure, know where it lies. “It comes from within”, they say. But not just from within our heart where we choose to feel young and beautiful.

For me, it comes from within me, from the eyes of my child who came from within me. 

I love you my son, not just coz you make me feel beautiful. But also because I see what I mean to you. I am the center of your world and you, my son, are my whole world. 

You make me feel like I never can feel low, no matter what! I feel so beautiful and so blessed to have you as my child, who thinks so high of me. You are my one and only…

I can never love you more 

coz 

there is no more than what I already love you. 

I love you more than love itself. 

I am grateful to you for being mine. I am grateful to the Almighty for blessing me with you. 

A child is a child, you cant make a child…but you make me, you made me a parent and so much more. 

Thank you my Aarav, my heartbeat, my sanity, my purpose to live, my life itself! ❤️ 🤗 😘 🌞