Posts

On life, longing and everything in between

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  For the time I remember, I always wanted to write. I used to have diaries, secret journals which later on turned into blogs, and long emails to friends. I just wanted to talk and share everything that I thought of with someone. Gradually, with the passage of time friends dwindled (of course, one would get bored with the amount of talking I can do!) and that is when I moved to write stories. 

A Free Weekend Read

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Even before we had completely gotten over 2020, 2021 turned out to be a recap of the nightmare 2020 was. And what better way to deal with this chaos than the world of words!  Whenever the noise around gets too much to deal with, I turn to words. I resort to either writing or reading to stay sane. It helps me sail through. Today, I am sharing with you my own book which was born out of chaos. About the Book Laze on the sunny beaches of Australia, drown your worries at the Varanasi Ghats, or get lost in the endless roads of Pangong Lake – this book promises to infect you with an incurable wanderlust. Sprinkled with liberal doses of real-life incidences and stories these pages capture the real magic of a place through its people in the perfect manner Be it the old man climbing the Sydney Eye at the age of 80 or the lonesome kid at Nubra Valley they promise to redefine life like never before. Fasten your seat belts as you embark on a journey of a lifetime with A Lost Wanderer where the

What is love?

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The moment I hear the question what is love? My answer always is this. Love is.  Those two words hold the entire meaning of love for me. When I was asked to write about my own version of love, my mind instantly ran to the nearest rescue I could find – music. For me, love is music, a song that your heart dances to and a rhythm that has the capacity to capture your soul. Love is the language of the universe, the one in which one soul converses with the other. 

From the Attic of Memories : Power of Stories

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  How often do we underestimate the power of stories hidden within our family! This isn’t about such a story but about a possible alternate ending to one that has been haunting me for days. So I am sharing it here. My great-great-grandfather is a famous writer in my mother tongue. His works are considered classics today. Considered to be a visionary, he could foresee the future with unmatched accuracy. He didn’t rely on palmistry or horoscopes. It was his sixth sense that was so powerful. 

Micropoem: Dreams and Desires

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Kalindi's Dream Recently I attended a workshop led by eminent author and poet, Sharanya Mannivannan where we were given a visual tour of the Museum of Art and Photography based in Bengaluru and asked to write pieces inspired by the work we saw. This micro poem is inspired by the painting Kalindi's Dream  (pictured above) a work by Patrizia Ma├»mouna Guerresi, who works with photography, video, and sculpture.

Way to heart (Flash Fiction)

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 **Trigger Warning - Domestic Violence, Abuse ** Picture (C)  Sydney Sims   @fairytailphotography Kalpana lay there motionless long after Rajiv had left the room. Her mind went back to the time when it had all started. It was just a few days after their marriage. All the guests had left and it was only them now. Kalpana was nervous yet excited as she made preparations for breakfast that morning. She carefully laid out the table having made everything of his choice – the way he liked it. She remembered her mother and aunts telling her “ The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach .” How many pains had her mother taken to ensure she learnt to cook all types of delicacies! Though a little bit unnerving for her at the beginning she, later on, realized that any task done with love got returned with love. Hence she had consciously made an effort to know Rajiv’s favourite dishes and learnt them very nicely.

Rant: For better or worse

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**Trigger Warning: Suicide, Ghosting** Recently a young actor died by suicide which led to a lot of furor on the social media. While I am no one to comment on how right or wrong this furor was, I can surely vouch for one thing - it is wrong to blame him for taking this step. Anyone who is/has been remotely suicidal knows for sure that our mind and body are out of our control. We cannot think rationally and hence this step.  I was into self harm for almost a decade before I quit it, never to go back. I knew I wanted to die and had tried many ways to do so. Every time I did it, I experienced a sense of relief. I felt I was one step closer to freedom. I was out of my senses, there is nothing else that mattered more than freedom from that pain and from that existence. Not even the pain, my death would have caused my loved ones. Because in my eyes and mind (maybe!) I felt no one loved me enough to mourn my death.