Tuesday, 30 December 2014

The First Choir Performance

Like it was their first performance, all of them looked nervous and excited, merged with the colours of a painting of a child thrilled living life. Like a child!

Can you see Pamela? She has rehearsed a lot and wants to give her best; I am sure she wants to impress Madame Margret. I agree that she is dedicated but I feel Susan is a better singer, only if she shows some more confidence. Oh! Just look at Thomas, yawning…gosh…Madame Margret almost saw him…he is quick to pretend he is just practicing his baritone voice. You know what, once Georgia wasn't able to get her voice to the right scale and she started crying…Madame Margret then calmed her and helped her, she is really good, she knows how to handle everyone in the Choir. Shshsh! It is going to start.

Just notice one thing throughout the performance, they all, everyone in the Choir including Madame Margret will light up during the performance. No! Not the stage lights…they themselves will. Their expressions and their eyes and their voice will talk about all the music in the world. How beautiful is that! See…it has started, they are lighting up, girls are going to blush red and boys will look golden; their eyes sing the most and the energy that they exuberate will make you…will make you…. Shshsh! Oh Sorry!

Hmm…hmm. I love Patrick, can’t look at anyone else but him. How lively! Last time he told me that while practicing he was reminded of his childhood, how his mother baked cookies for him and his sisters; he used to play all day long in the winter sun and return only in the evenings, to delight himself with warm milk and cookies. He said that he felt the crispiness of the cookie disappearing into milky moistness while singing that day. We returned and ate cookies with milk for dinner. I loved it, though Patrick said it is not even near to what his mother baked for all of them.

You call him Patrick…?

Yes, earlier I used to call him Grandpa Patrick then Grandpa Patricy…but now just Patrick. He loves it this way. And I love him. He is also my best friend. He is just like a child.

The performance is over, they all bow down and stand beaming with happiness. Their eyes are shinning and the entire hall is still resonating with their voices, this time mixed with the applause. They pose like little children - obedient, happy and enthralled. Warm with a natural glow and dynamic, they bow again along with Madame Margret. 

Saturday, 13 December 2014

Subtracted World

I am the King and the Queen,
Of my subtracted world,
From my bedroom to where my smartphone takes me,
It’s shinning and laughing with glee.

Walking on the road, I hit a plastic bottle
‘High Score!’ cried my smartphone, when a little
Skinny girl pulled my sweater
Dirty hands open up, there was a letter
Crumpled, old and torn…ah, useless
I thought, but still checked it, to find two words
- Remember Addition? 

Friday, 12 December 2014

In Light and Darkness

Sitting in a theatre hall, watching a film, in light and darkness, in the noisy quietness, I realised how fast everything is moving and how static I am, busy running in my mind, alone.

The image of the yellow flower, growing peacefully in the sunlight is still fresh and I too can feel the warmth. I am running madly and my friends are running behind me, we are happy, and finishing the game means everything to us. There is a rush to catch and not to get caught. After school hours, it wasn't a routine to play on the way home, it was us, we were simply playing. I was fast but so were the others, with school bags on our back, we didn't care of the world around us, we bumped into it passionately and made it alive. The lost adults often said, ‘You kids!’ and we replied with a ‘Sorry Uncle’ and a pure laugh.

The image fades away and suddenly I am walking all alone in the park. It is a rose garden but everywhere I see, the roses are pruned, they look like humans who know how to grow better, but not how to live. Wild roses are happier.

The protagonist is running wildly, furiously, shouting to express his anger…. When did I last run like him, wildly, shouting to express my anger, my happiness? Just before I was pruned, I guess.

Soon I’ll be forced out of this strange meditation class, soon the film will get over. The lights in the theatre hall will make me blind. But before that happens, let me take one last plunge, in that same memory that doesn't leave me, of that yellow flower.

I walk passed it and then came back, I sat next to it and observed it. My friends were not around and the nature was talking and I was listening. Why was that little yellow flower getting the entire attention there; the sun rays were perfectly falling on it and the trees were providing it enough shade, the earth was softly wet and the pebbles were guarding it in a funny way. I looked at it for some time and then one of my friends called out for me. I wasn't startled; the spell broke but I was charmed and the feeling survived. It’s still living.

The film is going to end; there is a wave of calmness and acceptance in the air. People will clap and the ‘hypnotised all’ will come back in the normal world. And I…I am not sure about myself, I like being in light and darkness.

Tuesday, 28 October 2014

The Light in My Notebook

“Civilization begins with distillation said William Faulkner….” The way he wrote it on the blackboard, I first felt as if I am in a management class and I should note it down, word to word… later, I did note it down but the feeling wasn't the same. The white chalk on the blackboard and the handwriting suddenly changed and I felt I had heard a secret that William Faulkner said long back. It happens a lot and though it’s strange, I enjoy these secrets… no I don’t understand the secrets, all of them, immediately, no, I just absorb them quietly. I generally don’t remember all of them, especially on the occasions when there is a need to quote them but nonetheless a beautiful, warm and sweet feeling stays, the secret stays, forever.

The ink on my paper also talks to me but I rarely pay attention. And when I do, the ink has nothing to say. When it has something to say and when I also listen to it, a tear falls and erases it. Yes, tears can erase and paint beautifully.

I don’t know why, but I use the word beautiful a lot. There are so many other words like charming, pretty, gorgeous, lovely, graceful, even heavenly… how does it matter anyway, every word is beautiful. I scribbled some lines on the last page, it goes – ‘how beautiful the scene was but when I tried to capture it…it died.’ On that page then, I couldn't write anything, not a word, I just doodled. The flowers, the creepers, the sky, the moon and the sun close to each other along with the stars circling them, a small boat and a butterfly all danced their way towards what I wrote and then stopped. I darkened the moon, till it looked very deep and I have plans to colour the butterfly.

What is he saying? What are we talking about? Have I missed something important? I flip the pages and peep at someone else’s book. To confirm! Ha! It is the same page, nothing has changed, he has been talking and talking; I felt for a moment that ages have passed, time rushed some centuries back and forth for me, swinging in different worlds I almost always forget to live in the present. 
Everything is so cold for some never ending seconds, then why will I not want the warmth of the other worlds? The last page…and I float again.

Oops! The duster fell from his hand and we all smiled. I shared my smile with a guy sitting next to me. How stupid is that? Laughing without any reason…though I generally do that a lot.

I have a story in mind… it’s an image that has stayed with me for a time I can’t recall. An old man, he is tall but thin, his wrinkled hands and tattered clothes tell me something different from what his wrinkled face expresses – a smile. He is always smiling or is it because the wrinkles have taken such a shape or is it just my imagination. We are on the same bus and I never think about the bus fare because I just don’t but the old man with a wrinkled smile fixed on his face seemed to think about it a lot. For two-three minutes, he requests the conductor to allow him to travel without the bus fare and then from his invisible pocket of his torn coat, he takes out some coins and gives it to the conductor. I can’t hear the exclamations of the conductor, I am too engrossed to see the old man with a wrinkled smile fixed on his face.

The pages are turning, millions have written in it, the ink is dry and still alive… a lot has been said and there is still a lot to say… the blank page looks exciting and it says the most and aloud. I am listening. Are you listening?

‘Are you listening?’ Yes, I nod! He has written something else on the board but I didn't see him writing again. “All truths wait in all things – Walt Whitman.”

Wait… for there is some truth waiting to get revealed in everything. I wrote this on the blank page, there I also drew a time machine, then the whole universe danced its way towards what I wrote and then stopped. I plan to colour it with light.

Monday, 22 September 2014

The Moon Is Moving

I change with the moon changing its shape. That is what someone told me, she was a palmist I guess or an aspiring one. Since then I have believed in it too, you know. Whenever I cannot understand myself or the mood I am in, I look at the moon and think, ‘where is it going now.’ And I confidently share this fact with others, my relation with the moon, nothing to hide about it.

My friends think that I am going crazy about this moon issue. They say, ‘it’s just a heavenly body’ and I say, ‘soon the moon will answer all my questions’, they then curiously ask me, ‘what do you want to know?’ Sometimes I don’t reply and most of the time they just don’t listen. I have a list, if I may speak the truth, I have a list of questions that I want to ask the moon. It goes like- what is your language other than the mellow serene white rays; do you like the blue planet or not; what if you could fly away, somewhere far; do you sing, if yes, sing one for me and some other questions, you know. Oh! I forgot to tell you about the most important question – how do you feel being the symbol of love? I find it really funny when I think that the moon might not be aware of it.

I have also composed a song, a tune basically, for the moon but I don’t feel like humming it right now. It is not complicated, there are no words, all you have to do is go ‘la…la, la, la…la’ after you are alone with the moon and then you have to meditate. It’s something very peaceful.

Once, it so happened that I was sitting and talking to the moon, I was all alone and I was speaking non-stop, you know. It was all very funny even though I was speaking my heart out and was getting emotional, when suddenly I sneezed and the moon said, ‘I bless you’. It was a superb experience. I told one of my friends about it who stupidly called the moon arrogant and silly. I lectured for an hour that it is not bad to bless someone and to bless one needs to be pure and that I think that the moon is pure. Weirdly my friend agreed with me but before I could feel happy about it, we were talking about something else.

There was another time when I tried to record the voice of the moon but I don’t feel like talking about it now. I feel strange, I think I’ll go for a walk now, I think the moon is moving and I plan to move with it.

Monday, 15 September 2014

With Myself

The green pond and the green trees can be so different. I was sitting on the stairs and looking at the thick and the pleasing green water when I realised that I am looking through the image in front of me. Everything was hazy for some time and I felt light. A concrete thought broke my imagination and I heaved a sigh. A sigh that meant nothing except the realisation that I am sitting and watching the green water in the pond. The trees were welcoming me and soon I was lost again. Did the time float away or swayed with the leaves? Time, that the people complain about and love and cherish at the same time. But at that moment I was'nt time bound, I was free. Just then or after some time, something musical fell in the pond and I enjoyed it. I started humming and playing with the stick in my hand. Then I dipped it in the pond and swirled it around. The green trees were watching all the time. I was in my own company and the time went by beautifully.

Friday, 15 August 2014

A Painting That Sways

Delicately touched
Touched only to sway
Swayed with love
And loved just to say
To say it loud enough
Enough of the artificial blue light
Pure blue light of the sky and the moon
The sky and the moon that play a harmony together
Together they sing to me
Me, who breathes quite often,
Often they sing and I dance
Dance like I am a cloud close to them
A cloud close to them that is me
Me, who dreams to be free,
Free like the painting of a moonlit night
And a moonlit night will always say
‘It’s your life, not a one-way’.

Wednesday, 16 July 2014

Two Photographs

Granny’s smile has lots of secrets and lots of memories in it. She is always smiling, beaming; we can also count her wrinkles rising from her cheeks to her closed eyes; eyes shining with childlike brightness, watery eyes speaking the language of love.

It is early morning and everyone in the house is running hither and thither. Mummy is cooking food and packing the tiffin-boxes. The children are late once again and Daddy is going to give them a lift to the school. But Daddy himself cannot find his tie and the green file and somehow Mummy is managing everything right from the kitchen. In this daily drama we see Granny sitting in the balcony, she is combing her grand-daughter’s plaits; Granny talks about her late grandmother who use to tie her plaits, to which her little granddaughter giggles up and says, ‘Granny you also had a Granny?’ Mummy shouts from the kitchen as the clock declares it is 8. Everyone is late once again.

In this riley race, this cute family is asked to stop and pose for a photograph. Daddy says no but the children agree and Mummy is caught between them; while everyone else hesitates only to agree in the end, the granddaughter brings Granny inside and both of them settle comfortably on the sofa for the photograph.

Say Cheese! Click!

Daddy is awkwardly smiling with a bad tie-shirt combination making him look funny; Mummy is smiling nicely and is hiding her apron behind her; the children are looking full of life and sleepy at the same time; the granddaughter is hugging her Granny and saying cheese loudly; Granny is smiling peacefully.

Daddy, Mummy and the children wish Granny a good bye, she waves back at them from the balcony. They leave in their car and get mixed with the ‘bhroom-honk-honk-bhroom’ crowd on the road.

When Granny is asked about the brightness in her eyes and the secret behind her smile, she laughs musically and says, ‘thank you very much’. Enjoying the scene from her gallery she seems to be waiting for somebody. She walks slowly to the kitchen like there is no need to hurry, this is how blessed she is, maybe this the reason behind her smile.

When we are about to leave the house, she calls us and asks us to meet her friend. Back in the gallery, Granny is feeding a stale roti to a crow with extreme joy in her eyes. She indicates us to take her photograph with the crow. She is already saying cheese. Click!

Thursday, 19 June 2014

The Keyhole Trend

If you peep through the keyhole
The small world you see
Might look real and free
The sky, the bird, the tree
The building, the street and me
All with the round edge and incomplete
Half of the shine and half of the night
Half of the smile and half of the ride

When the journey ends, it ends
Though the keyholes are in trend
Laughing loudly at yourself you’ll see
One can open the door without any fee

Saturday, 7 June 2014

I can see mountains from the window, I’ll take this window along.

The mountains are so grand; I realised it that day when I climbed one. Seeing the green velvety zigzag stretch left me overwhelmed. A thought caught my attention and told me how beautiful and majestic the mountains are, how incredibly small I am, how peacefully colorful the surroundings are and how sublime the music played by the wind is. I saw the clouds and they saw me; I blushed quietly. With my feet in the wet green grass, I stood there enjoying the drizzle. I sat on a calm rock calmly and opened the notebook. I couldn’t write for some reason, so I started drawing the scene.

Have you ever felt the same? Like when you feel something you cannot describe in words or otherwise? When the smell of that old book takes you back in a different century? As if the leaf that fell near you was meant to fall there so as you could pick it up and feel it? And the glamorous city lights are talking to each other and the moon is talking to you? What about the smiley face drawn by a passing fellow on a dusty car that reminds you of the one you had drawn? Have you ever felt the empty, still mind?

The drawing that I made took the shape of yin and yang without my knowledge. Opposites complement each other. I sat near the window and thought about it; the sun passed by and the moon came with white light very quickly and in the shadow I saw light and immediately, I agreed. I again looked at that drawing, in gratitude but the drawing was no longer the same…there were dark green mountains and blue sky, white clouds and green grass and me, sitting on the calm rock calmly. I looked through the window.

I can see mountains from the window,
I’ll take this window along.

Monday, 12 May 2014

Hum Along

That feeling of sadness when you realise that you could have done something else, something better but you cannot because time has defeated you, leaving you alone with the mighty Fate. That moment when your heart is full of love and your mind full of confusion and you hesitate to take a step forward; sometimes you console yourself and sometimes you scold yourself…all you are left with is pain.

Pain is known to everyone who knows love, hope, desire and ego. Why don’t we get rid of this pain and live happily ever after? Maybe because we need pain…just to understand the importance of everything around us, to learn to value every little thing. Also because pain teaches us to move forward, it gives us only one choice which is to change with time. If seen in this light, pain helps us to realise our transient nature but not to lament over it, rather to cherish every second of it and to make the best of it; yes, this will mean to be ALIVE always but this is just how we should live, shouldn't we? Why to be in grief when neither the reason for the grief nor you, the sufferer, will stay forever? What stays is the wish to live the life to the fullest.

I am walking on a mysterious road…what passes me enters me and then it vanishes, leaving the feelings in me, giving me pain and hope...I walk ahead in the search of love…I cannot see the path, just one step after the other…it is thrilling…the silky air around me is what I can feel and the music of the cosmos that whispers in my ears, telling me to hum along.

So be it! Hamm…. 

Wednesday, 23 April 2014


Just like the fading fog, that fragrant memory faded away.

Summer holidays and not so hot day, lying under the tree I peeped endlessly to see the sky. There were no clouds but now and then few birds crossed my vision. As the sun made me close my eyes, I tried to concentrate on the green leaves of the tree but instead I fell asleep. I dreamt happy and bizarre dreams, Alice like dreams. My dreams were colourful, the child’s world.

Just like the fading fog, that fragrant memory faded away.

Sitting on the study table and with the dull words stubbornly standing in front of me, my mind’s eye tricked each word and I soon reached the future. My future was always perfect - my clothes, my career, my life – everything just smooth and beautiful; boundless time to have fun with friends, family and a special someone. But when my mind’s eye met the alarm clock on the table, I quickly re-entered the tedious world of the textbooks, giving in and apologising, only to trick this world once again.

Just like the fading fog, that fragrant memory faded away.

It is raining and I am standing near the window, watching droplets join each other and run away. My mind is full of umpteenth things but I am lost, lost as I look at someone walking with an umbrella, fighting the rain and the mud on the road and I think about this unknown person. Though the unknown person has left but the thought remains. I take a sigh and decide to get back to work but I keep standing there.

Just like the fading fog, that fragrant memory faded away.

Living far away from my loved ones, I feel empty. Before tears fall, my mother calls and I say hello with a smile.

A funny incident that happened in college and how it became the topic of every discussion in my friend circle makes my eyes wide and I joyfully jump back in time.

Also, when I think about the moment when I said ‘Ciao’ to others and their comments and walked on my path, doodling something on the notebook and then closing it feeling my ears getting hot. At this moment someone definitely calls, someone definitely comes and talks and talks and I forget. I simply forget! But it comes to me every time I am alone and every time I just move forward.

Just like the fading fog, that fragrant memory faded away.

Tuesday, 8 April 2014


When I said I don’t know
They said, hah, but we know

They don’t know me at all
Standing up on the wall
They look down at me and shout
You are dying silly, lookout
I tremble as the screams hit me
Drab and numb says my graphic tee
I tumbled, tripped and hurt my toe
But I stood up and decided to go

I smiled and said I know now
They said to me, but how?

Friday, 4 April 2014

Shadow Told Me

Shadow doesn't like to take bath at all, the wet hair confuses him, he licks himself but still remains wet. This is what Shadow told me. Once Shadow was happily sitting in the veranda then suddenly he saw something in the garden…then what, Shadow ran towards it. But before he could see it properly it flew away. Shadow’s Mamma told him that it is called a bird and that they can fly. Shadow now notices the birds all the time, they fly in the blue sky and vanish, sometimes they sit on trees and sing. Some sing sweetly and some talk ceaselessly. Shadow likes them; this is what he told me.

Two words that Shadow used - ‘happily’ and ‘suddenly’ - somehow looked magnificently beautiful to me. Whenever he talks to me, he uses these two words a lot –happily and suddenly. He is happy to get a yummy lunch and then suddenly he jumps from one place to another and again becomes happy. This superb cycle of being happy and then having a sudden emotional change and then in the end being happy again…wow! Amazing life! When there is a sudden change, one can feel anything like anger, hunger, excitement, retirement, sleepy, weepy, and more; the best part is you will be happy again. This is the kind of life Shadow lives, he doesn't know it, he doesn't need to know because he is happy; ignorant he may be but happier.

Tuesday, 25 March 2014

My first visit to Kinnaur

It is amazing how the wind playing with the clouds and the green mountains humming a tune makes you dizzy. The water gushing madly in the river scares you but when you go a little closer to get humbly splashed, you feel revived. And if you get lucky, do spend some time on the terrace farms; take a notebook and crayons with you, even if you don’t know how to draw. Because the greenery all around and the blue sky above you will make you want to draw. Then lie down there and breathe.


Sunday, 16 March 2014


Can it be that I reach there
Where the golden light changes into golden colour
And bold red and deep orange strokes
All over the night of violet stars
Hum together a silent melody
Where I breathe cool wet air
And dance dance dance
Then I dip my hand in the sky
And a pink sparkle snake
Shines and merges with the violet stars
Where it is quietly blue and silver
Where the golden light changes into golden colour
Can it be that I reach there?

Sunday, 9 March 2014

Definition Destroys

I am walking, I am sky walking. There are beautiful colours around me, pink mostly. Sometimes the softness in the atmosphere changes into wetness which after inhaling makes me happy and light. I am also holding an umbrella, it is black in colour. I open it and I am dragged backwards by the musical wind. I am laughing and loving the moment. With my flying umbrella, I spin and float here and there like a leaf. I always wanted to be a leaf, I am serene.

I read somewhere that ‘definition destroys’ and I think I believe in it. This is this and that is that has never worked for me, only feelings have. Defining simplifies things, yes it does, makes things understandable; then it also makes things complex and difficult to such an extent that gives rise to questions like why is there inequality everywhere and then people exclaim to a friend in a conversation ‘children still die in our country because of hunger’, adding later their concern about their Pussy who didn't drink milk that morning. To define is to confine; actually I don’t know but they rhyme perfectly. I just hate it, this definition thing, the most when dreams are analysed so as to reach a definition. Please, let’s keep dreams as a mystery for the mystery on our smiling face in the sleeping state continues.

Monday, 3 March 2014

Quoting Satyajit Ray

‘In those days, the only laxative we had was castor oil, which made me want to throw up. There was nothing but quinine pills for the treatment of malaria. As a child, I could not swallow pills whole. Once, before a visit to Dhaka, I was obliged to chew some quinine pills. Even after all these years, I can feel its horrible bitter taste lingering in my mouth. The arrival of capsules in our lives has made us forget how awful the taste of medicines can be.’

Awful medicines have made us dependent on them, weakening our inner strength and making us dull. We choose this and that medicine instead of trying to improve our unhealthy routine. Look at the table beside your bed, the refrigerator and the cupboard and think about it.

‘There was something else to help me pass the time. It was an amazing contraption called a stereoscope. Many families possessed one in those days but now this Victorian invention cannot be seen anywhere.’

Stereoscope looks amazing.

‘My mother and I had gone to attend Poush Mela, a festival held annually in Shantiniketan every December. I had bought a new autograph book, with a view to having its first page signed by Tagore. I went to Uttarayan one morning. Tagore took my autograph book, but said, ‘Leave it with me. You can collect it tomorrow.’
We returned the next day. He was sitting at his desk, which was piled high with letters, various pieces of paper, books and notebooks. He began looking for my little purple autograph book as soon as he saw me. It took him nearly three minutes to find it. Then he handed it to me, looked at my mother and said, ‘He will understand the meaning of these words only when he’s older.’ What he had written was a short poem, which is known to most people today:

It took me many days, it took me many miles;
I spent a great fortune, I travelled far and wide,
To look at all the mountains,
And all the oceans, too.
Yet, I did not see, two steps away from home,
Lying on a single stalk of rice:
A single drop of dew.

(Excerpts from Satyajit Ray, Childhood Days – A Memoir)

Monday, 24 February 2014

The Rose That Wished For A Smile

I want to walk a mile
And paint a smile
Every mile…

When I go away
I’ll smile the whole way
Seeing smiles every mile.

Friday, 14 February 2014

Are You Going To Scarborough Fair

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?

The melody flows like a stream of water breaking the dryness of the earth, silently and smoothly. Suddenly you are in the colourful and sweet world. And you listen for the first time to the rhythmic world and you realise that life is not heavy but it is light as feather. The feather dances.

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?

By now you are humming and hoeing and weeding. This is what you want to do in life, with lots of time to sit under a tree, half sleepy, looking at the clouds you smile. This is what you wish for, once you reach the Scarborough Fair.

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme

Now you want to paint, you have seen so many colours that you want to feel it more. Red hands, orange hands, yellow hands, green hands, blue hands, indigo hands, violet hands – you have given birth to a rainbow.

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?

Remember that you have a vision of the future and a memory of the past, all you need is a smile in the present. While walking I realised that the Earth is walking and so is the cosmos, this jamming made me happy. The sweetness and the warmth and the lightness of this real and tangible feeling took me to the Scarborough Fair. All I can say now is that I am swaying with the wind and smiling brightly. There is a ribbon, long and beautiful and silky, it is also swaying with the wind and smiling brightly. You’ll find it when you go to the Scarborough Fair.

                                             Vincent Van Gogh's Field of Poppies

Sunday, 9 February 2014

The Sugar Diary

Day 1: I am very positive about maintaining a sugar diary. This way I can keep a check on my sugar intake. I have to reduce some kilos here. Today I ate- three chocolates, two muffins, one doughnut with chocolate syrup, one bar of chewy sugar candy and two packets of Oreo.
I am eating way too much of chocolaty things, I have to replace it with some fruits and juice etc. Yes! I can do that plus from tomorrow I’ll be going to the gym. All the best to me!

Day 2: Gym is a very tiring place and I didn't like it that much but I am thinking that I’ll carry on. Today I ate- four energy bars, two glasses of milk shake, three packets of Oreo and a piece of cake.
Yes I admit that I added chocolate syrup in everything and that I also ate chocolate flavoured corn flakes but I am willing to give myself space, I need time. I have read somewhere that it takes a lot of time to control the sugar addiction. At least I am trying. Being aware is the first and most important step.

Day 6: I am not counting the weekend days because I didn't follow the ‘routine’. It was Grandma’s birthday and we had a party. It was amazing…grandpa surprised everyone by making a cake himself…isn't that sweet.
And yes I am being liberal with myself. I’ll do better from tomorrow for sure.

Day 7: I am fasting today.
Today I ate- Milk and corn flakes, banana-almond shake and mango shake.

Day 9: It is not going good. I have never mentioned what I eat other than the sweet stuff and now when I see this diary I feel so bad that I eat so much other than the regular food.

Day 11: I’ll fast today because I am not going to the gym from last few days.

Day 13: I am not regular with this diary, maybe that’s why I am not able to follow the diet chart I made for myself. From today onwards I’ll make it compulsory to write in the sugar diary whether it is the weekend or someone’s birthday or whatever. And I’ll not mention anything else except the sweet food items because I have to control my weakness for sweets only. From tomorrow I’ll join the gym again, mom will be coming with me. I am positive!

Today I ate- three chocolates, two muffins, one doughnut with chocolate syrup, one bar of chewy sugar candy and two packets of Oreo.

But I’ll improve from tomorrow, I can feel it. It’s a promise!

Sunday, 2 February 2014

Sky Blue Sky

Sky blue sky
Asks me why
There is no time
To live the time
Which is mine?

Sky blue sky
Tells me why
Smiles are better,
Far more better
Than promises on a letter

Sky blue sky
Shows me why
The painter paints
Alive, very happy and
In love he paints

Sky blue sky
Knows why
Two eyes
Look at the sky-
To take the blue spirit inside

Friday, 31 January 2014


Me: Should I kill Vikram or not?

Me: Of course you should, how many times will you think about it?
Or…maybe you should reveal the truth to Neena first.

Me: But if Neena knows the truth then things will not be the same…what if she calls Vikram?

Me: She is not talking to Vikram, she is not ready to hear a word about him, then why will she call him?

Me: But what if she calls just to shout at him?

Me: First, she will not call him and even if she does, no one will receive the phone because by then you would have killed Vikram, she’ll get more furious and that will be good for us.

Me: Yeah! Right! But then….

Me: But what? Don’t think so much…just go ahead with this plan and we’ll see how things will turn out.

Me: Because Vikram and Neena are not talking and they are lovers and I’ll kill Vikram…doesn’t it sound obvious.

Me: Then kill Neena…or both of them…it is so irritating…it has been like hours and you haven’t written a word on the paper…you are just thinking…bugger off!

Me: Hah! You can’t talk to me like this.

Me: Shut up! I can!

Me: Don’t be so grumpy? You know what, Vikram and Neena are lovers they should not be separated but I think Sanjay….

Me: Great…change it…from thriller in the beginning to a love story in the middle and total nonsense in the end.

Me: What!! Oh! Please! (Stretches back on the chair and sees something on the wooden ceiling) Hey! I have wondered so many times about this shape on the ceiling…you know it looks like a bird…I mean the shape is like that of a bird…like a woodpecker in fact…it so fascinating…I mean why is it here…I wonder if a family of woodpecker lived on this tree which was cut down and…hey I can write something about it…I mean it will be something different and I’ll start right from the shape in the ceiling…there will be a touch of the metaphysical in my story and….

Me: Oh really? But do you know how you’ll end it? Let me tell you…It will end with you taking a nap and later losing all your interest in the metaphysical or the bird or the thriller.

Me: Hah! But you are right here…I will take a power nap…come on…my creative mind needs a break…it deserves some rest. Ha ha ha ha!

Me: Deserves to be checked. Ha ha ha ha!

Thursday, 23 January 2014

The Green Grassland

The green grassland is calling me to come and run freely. As soon as I keep my feet on the green grassland, it says I’ll be liberated. And then I will fly on the green grassland. I will run and I’ll not get tired and the surroundings will never change and nothing will end. The wind will be sweet and I’ll feel dizzy. Even if I fall, I’ll smile. Then lying on the green grassland I’ll look at the sky, it will be blue in parts and green where the prairie will canopy me. I’ll lie there and smile and feel warm and good and like the sunshine I’ll shine. The green grassland says so.

Wednesday, 15 January 2014

In Delight

The green leaf
On the blue ocean
Under the black clouds
Said to the storm
I lived a free life
And now I am about to die
Come and take me to the sky
So that on the way I meet the birds
Then I’ll shout goodbye
Yes! Do pour my message
Drop by drop and let the Earth be deep brown
Let the trees know it and let the young leaves feel it
Swirling and singing I’ll take your leave
Symphony in me and I am just a leaf
A green leaf
On the blue ocean
Under the black clouds

Saturday, 11 January 2014


Jeff- Hey! I have written a song, please listen to me-
                   When the words are falling dead, it’s better to stay quiet
                   When the path is crowded, it’s better to wait
                   When the joke is bad, it’s obvious you’ll laugh
                   When the song is boring, it’s better to not to sing
                   So don’t sing, don’t sing, don’t sing, don’t sing
                   Why are you singing? Why? Why? Why?
                   Don’t sing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
                        And I say bye-bye!


Jeff- Hey! How was it? What do you think…I love it already? Matt? What do you say…hm?

Matt- I have the proof, the judge will have to believe me…I have the proof.

Jeff- Yes! Exactly! Rupert what you say?


Rupert- I am waiting for aliens.

Jeff- That’s true.

(Matt leaves)

Jeff- (Laughs) Wait I’ll come with you, I have written the next verse…wait Matt!

Rupert- (Stays still) We have better songs…trust me. (Looks blank) I am waiting!

Monday, 6 January 2014

Changing The Channel Isn't Enough!

I saw this advertisement on the television, a banking company…I don’t remember the stupid name…it showed a little girl collecting money from her grandparents and picking some from under the table and some crap. I mean, what crap is this? And then the idiot voice over sings ‘collect the coins and something shitty for the future’ bloody rascals. Are they mad or what? These bankers…do they have a soul or are they bloody devils. They are sucking the entire earth and shredding it into pieces and then using technology to change it into digits so that they can store it in their computers…so that they can stretch on a recliner and drink blood spending a damn holiday on an island, I say holy shit. Bloody holy shit! For heaven’s sake leave the children alone…let them live happily and let them be carefree you selfish fucking morons. More and more and more and more and more…damn you all, bloody leeches. You make the adults cry their heart out for surviving in the mess you have created and you trap them and you fool them…you have fooled us all…bloody imbeciles. And now you devils…you scoundrels want to get hold of the children…so that they can also start growing from the age of 5 and become lame like all of us and tune their minds, for like infinity, to remember the maddening idea of ‘more is good’. Bloody you god damn stupid rascals! Childhood is not for collecting money…life is not for collecting money…bloody hell…for which race do these idiots want all of us and our children to prepare for? Which race you sick idiots? A race which your smelly stinking mind has created? You fooled us in participating in it and now you are trying to drag the children also? How grandly foolish and fucking idiots you are! Bloody hungry morons you want everything…E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G. You rascals you also come in everything…you forget to count yourself every time, right? Now who is a fool? Ha ha! 

Wednesday, 1 January 2014

Creepers Meet the Trees

I believe in the waves. Everything in the universe is in the form of waves. The connection never breaks. Reverberation happens. Don’t you feel it? It is amazing and most of the times beyond our understanding, that is why one feels frustrated. Like when something is in front of us and we know that it is and we can’t find it.

I saw something that caught my attention, I saw some creepers climbing high and meeting the branches of the trees. The light green coloured creepers united with the brown coloured branches and the contrast between these colours and the dark green coloured leaves looked so perfect, as if it was painted. I don’t know if the union was meant to be or not. It was just wonderful because I thought of the creepers slowly and slowly creeping on the big trees. First the trunk and then the branches and then making a green velvety blanket with the leaves, like a slow wave.

The clouds move beautifully you know. They dance. They don’t stay at one place. We should also learn it. I mean we should keep in mind the fact that nothing is permanent, everything shifts from being to non-being. The clouds allow the sun rays to pass through it, only sometimes the sun rays decide to stay back and be with the clouds. The clouds change in colour when they are about to rain. What a grand way to leave, to change into droplets and become a seed and come alive and then to meet the sun rays once again.

When a dancer performs and a singer sings and a musician plays and a painter paints and an architect builds, and a scientist thinks and a mother smiles - it is in a wave form. Like the velvety green wave we see in the forest, when the creepers meet the trees.

Walking In Her Own Style

Sara never thought of running the race. She lived in the moment, carrying all emotions in one potli , always responding quickly to the da...