A Single Drop

A tear rolled out of my eyes
I don’t know why
It rolled off my nimble lashes
Not oft but rare in random flashes
I see myself in states like these
The tear resting on my cheek
Not moving, not knowing where else to be
Not trying, neither drying, not rolling free
Wonder have I hardened such
Has wisdom taken over sensitivity?
Years gone by have changed me so much
Have I no more of them left in me?
I feel weighed by reverie
Then I smile at the joke of thee.
I am the sort who laughs with all
And tears are meant only for me to see
But what shall be of this one that stalled
Standing still and solitary.

i Live

Get out of your daily mold
Wear the shoes that you once sold
Choose the road you want to be
Be thy self...create history

Twinkling star guides the way
Stormy nights and through the day
Be the star of your self
Pave the path and stack the shelf

Move to learn and to stand
Move the mind to a foreign land
Move to have...have some more
Move yourself out of that door

Life is limited, he once said
Join the dots and earn your bread
Stories of him be told
Millions of apples sold

As time flies...You realize
10 years have passed you by
Pick up right now and build it up
Have to see a half full cup

Coz all we are is dust...

Today together, tomorrow burst.
Remember wen i told u...
i am not just i, u r not just u

I am bigger than you can see
I can create history!

We are family

Oh how it hurts the mother
To see one child hit another
To be drenched in such hatred
Both she cared for and fed
Both of them she watched as they grew
She gave her all to those two
Now they fight for power and for land
For money and who’s got a better stand
What is the point of this game
Whether its me or you…hurts the mother just the same.

It’s sad what is happening in Egypt, what happened in Xinjiang, in Thailand… In Afghanistan, between Iran & Iraq, in India, in Pakistan…between them…So many more wars & uprisings have happened. Who died…somebody’s brother, sister, mother, father, daughter, son… Aren’t we all first 'one'?

The story

I am here to tell you a story

A story it shall be

About a young gypsy vagabond

With her hair curly & free

About her I'll tell you

A story it shall be

She roamed about the town...in her gypsy frocks

Her ways not conformed...Just like her flying locks

One jump here, one leap there

"Regular" wasn't in her dictionary

About her I'll tell you

A story it shall be

She raced against time

Swam against the flow

She tried to go everywhere...She wasn't told to go

A little naughty, a littly freak

Somewhat like a pixie

About her I'll tell you

A story it shall be

All told her to be good

But in her head, she was how she should

She danced on the winds

Played with the rains

For her life was a spree

About her I'll tell you

A story it shall be

Then one day she fell

Never knew how falling would feel

It drenched the frocks

and straightened the locks

She could run no more

Her legs felt like rocks

She smiled and stood

Looked out of the hood

A little light she could see

I'm telling you about her

A story it shall be

Then that day on

the vagabond was gone

The gypsy died

She tried not to cry

She had to be as the rules said

Had to change her face & her head

Now she lives dreaming about those days

The careless hair & the crooked ways

This is how her story ends

all straight, with no bends

My lovely job

Me and my husband both work.We love our jobs because they pay for our beautiful 3 BHK house in a wonderful locality central to the city.Hence, there are lots of nice restaurants and lounges to go around.I'd like to further describe my beautiful house that my lovely job pays for. It has a big spacious hall and bedrooms, each with french windows and balconies.Trees with flowers of every hue surround it. Birds of every colour come and chirp on the trees.And butterflies flutter on the flower shrubs outside the doorway.As I had told you earlier, me and my husband work.I work from 9:30am to 6:30pm (Which usually extends to 7:30) and he works from 9:00am to 7:00pm (extending to 9)The commute time for our offices is 1 hour each way and we work saturdays too. (See I told you...we love our jobs)We spend 10 pm to 8 am at our beautiful house on weekdays, eating & sleeping. We have to eat rather quickly on our exquisite teak dining table (Paid for by the job) because we need to sleep early. (To be re-energised for our jobs)On sundays we sleep all day (on our queen-sized bed...by job again:) ) and order take out. (To gain energy for our lovely jobs)My husband cannot sleep with the windows open...so our french windows have not really been exploited yet. But that's OK...we plan to enjoy them once we retire :)We also do plan to visit the park nearby and try the lounges & restaurants after retirement.Also we might actually live in our beautiful house.Till then...we shall keep loving our jobs.

P.S.: Can't write more...I am at my job

(This is a work of fiction. Just for a good laugh...so read n hope you enjoy)

Indian obsession with the "M" word - A 25 year old's dilemma

Hey there!
It's been a while since I crossed the fun "early twenties" and am now on the sacred junction, about to jump into the latter half. I call it "sacred" because everyday it becomes clearer to me how deeply the 25th year is associated with the holy matrimony stage in an Indian girl's life.
By the way, what's so "holy" about it anyways?
Do we really become sacred after the grand celebration?
Or is it just that it is a certification to have legal sex? Probably thats why it's called the "holy" matrimony.
Everybody knows you're doing it, but somehow it's too "holy" of a thing to say!
But, if anyone knows about your adventures or should I call it misadventures before you're married, it won't be such a holy sight.

Gawd...for all the "holy"ness in the world I wonder why are we so obsessed with "Marriage" as soon as we hit the big two five??

Maybe it's not always just us, it's our parents, friends, family friends, extended family, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieghbours, Mrs. Bahri who met me when I was 5 and never saw me after that....Everybody!!!
They are all suddenly worried about nothing but a simple title before our names! It should now not read a deplorable in-her-late-twenties "miss", but instead change to a respectable "Mrs."

But are we, the ones who actually have to get the title-change, really bothered by it?
Honestly, does it make that huge of a difference?

We wouldn't get an extra arm for getting married. Niether would the tax-commission spare us for doing the right thing at the right age.
Yea...probably the only good thing I see coming out of it is international travel. No more unmarried-girl-of-a-marriageable-age visa rejection.
The gifts that you get aren't that great or useful either (remember...they're bought by your parents, friends, family friends, extended family, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieghbours, Mrs. Bahri who met me when I was 5 and never saw me after that!)

If you have someone in your life that you love...great...be happy with him! If you don't, it doesn't mean that you're not fit to survive on your own two feet! Does it??
Then why marry?!
Why do everybody's questions about our health or work or life in general have subtle undertones of the same required answer...Marriage: Yes or No. (Mostly, they're not that subtle. Hope they were.)

Well, I'm 25 and a half, healthy, happy (if left by myself), doing well at work, socially satisfied and not married.
Does it make me less "holy"?
Yes?!
OK then...I think I can live with that.

Nose on the jog...

Long time back I was introduced to this quaint little ridge near my place. A total excercise freak that I am, started exploiting it immediately to tone up those saggy calves. Since then my legs have totally been relishing the regular work-outs in that area, but very recently I discovered that my nose has been doing a little work-out of its own.

This is the story of my nose, very literally, on the jog! So, hear it for my nose itself (I know all of you’re saying…”Gawd…now her nose’s talking too!” But my nose can't hear…)

So here it goes...

Starting with the generous dose of vehicle smoke that I inhale as soon as I get out of home (living in South Delhi is a REAL blessing...who wants to live till 100 anyways!). And then there's the cigarette smoke & generator smoke (Thank you frequent power-cuts!) and million other kinds of smokes (cough...cough...its great exercise for the throat and facial muscles by the way)
Finally we enter this terrain within the city, cut-off from the outside hustle-bustle.
I am greeted with the scent of fresh flowers and young grass. I feel this tingle inside that’s caused when an orange peel is squeezed with a sprinkle of flower juice. So rejuvenating!

Further on I’m carried to this nice woody fragrance. Robust and inviting, it calls me to itself and I just can’t help but take a deep breath of nature. It fills me up with all of its vigour and makes me want more (its almost orgasmic…no wonder they bottle it up and sell it for a bomb)
Acchhhhhoooooo!
What is that?!! Mmmm…smells like…I think someone just had a little mishap with a bottle of Gucci Rush before coming for the jog! I like the perfume, but not to bathe in!
Puff puff…bad air out…good air in…bad air out…good air in…
OK now…returning to the woody fragrance again…aaaaah…its fine now.

Sniff sniff…aww…guess a baby is around. I love the way they smell with the J&J on. A little whiff of it is enough to take me back in time when all scents were so new. Life was such an adventure. Every day had a “Eureka” moment. Mommy’s hug, the bed-sheets, the food, the poop…everything was so unique.
Life’s so much more predictable now.
Same old food, monotonous perfumes, regular variety of smokes… but this place still keeps me alive. Just when the boredom starts to creep in, it brings in something new and interesting.

I think there’s some conversation happening now with Aunty ji. And I can tell that Aunty ji’s been making yummy chholey early morning. Chholey for breakfast…sounds like Spanish omelette at a high tea!
Well…To each his own!

Hmmmmm…conversation over…back to the woods! :)

Sometimes I wonder, how do these people take the gazillion scents and smells they inhale everyday for granted??
Its like I’m just for breathing…Whatever!!!
I get insulted you know…I have feelings too!
I am so much more than a necessity..I am a luxury. I am an ornament on that face of yours.
Just imagine youself without me on... ugly picture...ain't it?
People spend a lot of cash to fix me. I even have special doctors dedicated to my service.
Snobbery & anger reside on me.
Haven't you heard...Keep your nose to the grindstone or have a nose for the job?!
So, please respect me.

Hey! Someone’s been smoking! Why else would anyone try to have an extra large helping of “Chutki”. It smells sweet and all, but I don’t think its Stomach’s favourite. That’s what he told me! When will Uncle start being a man in front of Aunty ji, instead of chickening behind a packet full of “Chutki”.

Hmphhhh…I guess we’re on the road again. Familiar smokes, boring world, same old smells…

Woweeeeee!!!! Are those my favourite yummylicious vapours from heaven?
Mom’s been making pancakes with oodles of butter and honey-drizzle.

So much for those legs…Haha…my work-out was worthwhile for sure!