About Her

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Little Moments Of Bliss is a silhouette of a feeling that resides in my heart. A software engineer by degree, a writer at heart, and a teacher by profession, I'm all that I never thought I would be. Pretty pictures,a poem that blatantly refuses to rhyme, a text from a deranged friend, a sudden gesture of love, its these little things in life, that matter and sprinkle bliss. Grace the couch and share a cuppa!

September 30, 2013

Alexis's Graduation Speech.


There is a universal truth we all have to face whether we want to or not. Everything eventually ends. As much as I’ve looked forward to this day, I’ve always disliked endings. The last day of summer, the final chapter of a great book, parting ways with a close friend. But endings are inevitable. Leaves fall, we close the book, you say goodbye. Today is one of those days for us. Today we say goodbye to everything that was familiar everything that was comfortable. We’re moving on. But just because we are leaving, and that hurts, there are some people who are so much a part of us they’ll be with us no matter what. They are our solid ground, our north star. And the small clear voices in our hearts that will be with us. Always.
Alexis Castle

September 25, 2013

Another year passed by..

And I turned 24. Of course I don't look 24, I'm a girl after all. Its been a good year. I holidayed in Mauritius, and trust me, its a pretty little island with crystal clear waters and the best chicken sausage ever, Mom Dad gifted me a MacBook, I'm comfortable with my job status, if not satisfied, I have the best of the friends from all worlds, and I've become a PotterHead too.

Stable, is the word I am looking for. 
Although a little unstability wouldn't hurt, if anybody's listening and understands what I mean. 

Also, Mom Dad completed 25 beautiful years together. Thats my Dad giving an awkward hug to my Mom upon my family's insistence. Cute enough for today ?.

Stay Blessed.

July 31, 2013

Menstruate. With Pride.

"Amma, my frock is stained again" she said with a little unknown fear in her heart.
"Whatt !!?? Why can't you be more careful ? Bibiji gave me this frock for you last week only. and from where should I bring more cotton ?" Amma shouted. "Go and wash that green rag that you used yesterday, put it out in the sun to dry and then use it"
"But amma, I'm not feeling well, it itches and my stomach hurts" she cried.
"Then what do you expect me to do ? Wash your period stains ?" Amma replied with little emotion.
She held her tears and turned away.


I am writing this post for the Idea Caravan Initiative by Franklin Templeton India and IndiBlogger. They have partnered with TedXGateway Mumbai in December 2012 and have provided us with inspiring videos of young minds struggling and succeeding in making and being the change that they want to see. Menstruation still is considered as a taboo in many urban and rural parts of our country, I would like to contribute my bit to the right to sanitary "mind and body" for every woman by this post.


Menstruation or Periods is one such topic which is rarely been talked about. Let alone been talked about on a world-wide platform like Blogger. When I was a kid, we only had one TV at home, and as soon as the StayFree or Whisper commercial came on, Dad would hurriedly look for the remote and change the channel. I never asked any questions until the day all the girls in my class were told to stay in the classroom during the lunch break. Some of us looked curious, some knew what was going to happen. We were given proper knowledge by a counsellor about a phenomenon that was going to happen to us every month for a significant numbers of years to come. To be true, I was in shock. I wondered how would I bleed for 4 days a month and still be okay ? She also brought a sanitary pad with her and showed it to us.

It was then that I knew why mom didn't go to the temple for those 4 days a month and why she would feel sick in her stomach.

A colleague of mine shared her first experience with me and I was shocked to learn the ways of our society in that age. She's in her fifties. She woke up one day and found out that her clothes were stained red and that something was definitely wrong with her. She ran to her mother and her mother's reaction was "Achaa, ho gaye ?" She gave her some cotton from the cupboard and hushed her to the bathroom. Nobody taught her how to use one, for how many days would it last or how badly the cramps would hurt.


If men could menstruate, they'd either associate with power justification or luxury, never with hygiene. Wish women could do that. Factually, I am sure that a hundred percent of women reading this article have never used anything except sanitary pads during their periods. But do you ever give a thought to that 75% of our country's female population who use saw dust or rag materials to cover their pubic area during their cycle ?

It is still seen as a luxury in their lives. AN UNNECESSARY LUXURY ITEM. Money still poses a problem. Can you imagine a life where you're denied the right to healthy clean sanitary pads and are forced to use cloth ? Among many other reasons, I respect my mother for giving a pack to our domestic help every month for herself and her daughter. She gives her a pack of Stayfree- 20 napkins for Rs. 60. That brings the average cost of one napkin to be around Rs. 3, and still Mr. Babbar claims he can provide that same woman in the same country with a balanced meal in Rs. 12.

I will not venture into facts and figures, I will tell you a true story that happened in the school that I teach in. I teach computers to classes VI-VII. This is the exact age group of girls reaching puberty and having their first period. One of them came to me last month and said "Mam, I think I am suffering from periods. Can I go to the medical room ?" The irony of the statement was that she thought it was some kind of an abnormality and she was unfortunate enough to suffer from it. I sat her down after she came back, and listened to what knowledge was given to her. She was confused and I had to tell her that she wasn't suffering from anything, that it isn't a disease and she is a healthy lovely girl.

Mr. Muruganantham has made an unusual brave effort on his part and I applaud him for it.


The Four A's - Availability, Affordability, Accessibility, Awareness.

A country where politicians claim they can get a complete balanced meal for Rs. 12 in a city like Mumbai, what can a rural woman's expectations be ? Awareness is next to nothing, and it is no more than a man asking for a condom. They'd rather have babies than use protection. We say we're evolving, I beg to differ. Advertisements are flashed, hoardings are put up but asking for a sanitary napkin or a condom is still considered as a taboo.

Arunachalam Sir pointed out the fact that almost all women of our rural population would rather buy milk for their family from the money rather than spend that same money on sanitary napkins, I'd agree with him. Although Menstrual Cups can be used. They can be washed and re-used which takes care of affordability. People like Mr. Muruganantham and more young minds like them can make then available at low cost. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Menstrual_cup can be visited for more.

Women Empowerment is a topic that is more written about and less done about. Every woman has a right to sanitation and she must be provided with one. A healthy country is not the one with wealthy politicians claiming to do their best, it is one where a common man is confident enough to get his basic needs fulfilled.

If you want to think over a task, give it to a man, If you want it done, give it to a woman.

If we start looking for issues to fix in this country, we would never decide upon one. Every other issue is more appalling than the previous one. But if you want change, you have to make it happen. Contribute your bit. Women should step up, do their little bit and it shall spread on its own. Provide you domestic help with proper education and sanitary napkins, ask them to talk about it to their daughters and other women in their locality.

If I ever have a daughter, I will celebrate her first period.

The red gold.

"Your boss is surely going to fire you one of these days" Kalpana predicted.
He chuckled, enveloped her from behind,
and said "And to what will I owe that pleasure Miss ?"
"You're late, almost everyday, If I were your boss, I'd fire you" she said, and kissed him while fixing his crooked tie.
"Is Gian ready ? I'll leave him at the crutch on my way"
"Yes he is, don't drive too fast. Love you."
A half an hour later, Kalpana received a call from the local hospital. Her husband had died, due to lack of availability of his rare blood group AB-, in the same fatal accident that had left her 3 year old crippled for life.


"Papa, do we really need the needle this time also ?" She pleaded with her pale eyes and her limp hand reached for her father's.
"Yes dear, but I promise it will hurt less" he reassured her firmly.
The nurse struggled a little to find a vein and then pierced her tiny hand with a needle that would give her one more month to live. She was suffering from an inherited single gene disorder, Thalassemia. 

This little girl needs 30 units of blood
every month.
What would have happened if Kalpana's husband would have received the blood that he needed in time ? What would happen if this little girl's father had some way of knowing that he didn't have to worry about arranging blood for his daughter every month ? Things would be different. Their lives would be different. To have someone you love, die in a bed because the hospital ran out of their blood type is the kind of feeling that follows you to your grave. 

A special mention to applaud Franklin Templeton Investments in their brilliant initiative to bring about a change. I've seen all the videos that were provided at the Idea Caravan Site. I can't say I wasn't moved by the others, but I chose this particular one because I could actually, practically join the cause and make a difference, rather than just voicing my views about it on my blog.

We tweet all day long, visit our friend's profiles on Facebook, like pictures, pitch in witty comments. I would like to thank Karthik Naralasetty for thinking outside the box and creating a platform for emergency blood needs that saves lives. He has created a Facebook group where people can post their emergency blood needs with the required blood group and interested donors can reply to the requests as they please. I haven't seen a much better use of social media till date. 

Visit http://www.socialblood.org/ now and save a life.

July 4, 2013

HandMade by Carousel

A very dear friend of mine, Twisha of OneLife.ManyMoments has dared to live her dream. And I want to help her realize how great it is.
Its the first step.
And all great things start with that one little step.
Visit her Facebook Page and have a look at all the quaint little things she hand picks.
Its like weaving magic into your home decor.

She is simply looking for beauty - the kind that can't be explained - only felt.

I got this box customized for my sunglasses :) Can you spot mine and my blog's name in the doodle ? ;) Quirky, ain't it :)

By now, I'm sure you're dying to know from where to shop.
there you go :)

Thank me later :)
You know where to find me.


June 21, 2013


Attraversiamo is an italian phrase, that means 'Lets Cross Over'.
A couple years before, I wasn't even acquainted with this supreme world of blogging.
I will not cook up a story as to how I started blogging because I quite frankly do not remember.
But I wrote my very first post for my mother and that was the day I knew that this would become irreplacable for me.

Two years ago, I dreamt of a happy place.
Two years ago, I created a happy place.
And you're in it right now.

My blog turned 2 this June and I can't believe that it still can lift up my spirits when I'm down.
Its a gloomy milestone and I'm just crossing it over. Hope they're many more to come.

PS Title Courtesy - Eat Pray Love.

June 1, 2013

Snow on the Sidewalk.

We all have scars.
We all have stories.
Some make sense, and the rest, just don't.
Sudden. I guess that's the word I'm looking for.
Maybe, it would have been a lot easier, if life was a movie.
I wouldn't have to worry about my hair, my shiny career,
or about finding the right guy,
and just when I'm at my lowest,
he'll pull out a Cartier and sweep me off my feet.
Or, I could learn how to play a guitar.
I'm in a bizarre state of mind. really bizarre.
I ordered 'Angel of The Dark' off the internet,
because its got fragments of my favourite writer in there somewhere,
but I don't think I'm going to read it.
I don't want to write any more.
Everything I loved doing has lost amusement.
Its all swept away, like snow on the side-walk.

April 4, 2013

A braided gesture of Love.

This post won the runner-up prize in the said contest.

Some days I am a curl,
while others, I merely swirl,
They say, I am a sweet lullaby,
or that, I am a braided gesture of love,
perhaps, it is just Dove.

Sometimes strictly parted on the side, sometimes seductively falling over one eye, sometimes wet, sometimes rigid, sometimes tied up in a high ponytail, sometimes braided together into a french bun, sometimes tousled in the front with a fishtail braid over the left shoulder, sometimes the usual bombshell waves, sometimes polished, yet sometimes casual. Your hair define your personality, more so, they define you. A messy braid resting on the nape of your neck will make you your man's guilty pleasure even on the most unlucky day of your life.

I have been raised by a loving punjabi family and a strict Convent school. And by a convent, I'm not intending to imply towards nuns and discipline, I mean a compulsory pair of braids with a precise middle parting. I've lived, loved, grown, and also matured in braids. The way they frivolously hung over my neck gave me a beautiful carefree feeling. There are certain things in life that look better when put in perspective, one of them is my hair. Its like they have a mind of their own, they know when to be mean and when to be subtle, when to be nervous and when to be at their cautious best. Nonetheless, over the years, I've fallen in love with them.

Hair, I believe, have a mind of their own,
They twirl, they dance;
Not always prim, not always proper,
It can make you drown, into its serene expanse.

To be honest, I've never had long hair, even though I'm proud of my Indian woman mindset, that loves her silky smooth hair flowing carelessly in the summer breeze. And when they do oblige me by growing beyond a certain length, I have to chop them off because, Hair, is a funny thing, they curl, swirl, twirl, dance, straighten, perm and among other things that you and I thought they could never do, they now split too.

The first time when I heard of split ends, I was a careless teenage girl, and was shocked to know that a thin healthy strand of hair could betray and split into two if deprived of proper nutrition and care. Through Indi, Dove has always encouraged me to talk more and more about my hair, and it always sends me into a cute memoir of a fuzzy-hair-girl flashback. But split ends, they're new to me. Just when you think you're doing everything right, your hair smite you in the face with a wake-up call.

I started working as a teacher last year. Stress levels rose, sleep hours got cut, pollution poured in, causing my healthy hair to revolt back in unsympathetic split ends. Chop chop, snip snip. My beautiful braid from 2012 had to be disguised into regular shoulder length waves that I now have. I wish Dove had launched its Split end Rescue System back then, before I got my cut, but better late than never, and I couldn't be more thankful. Braids are supposed to have a beautiful beginning and beautiful ends. And it's possible now, 4x times less split ends with the new Dove range. 

 I, mostly, do not have a clue as to what is the criteria for calling one's hair happy, but what I do know with certainty is that when you are happy, your hair bask in your glory.

Friends shot envious stares, relatives wondered,
Only because she grew up, with tresses so long,
They did all, but could never find the answer,
To, how on earth were her hair so strong?

Hair, weren't much of an issue,
Until the day, time flew by and stress flew in,
Bringing along, dryness, damage, split ends
And hair, Oh so thin!

Reminiscing about old times,
When her hair shone with pomp and glory,
Nostalgia overcame, and she knew,
A change was needed, to rebuild her damaged hair story.

And then, came along DOVE,
With its enriched conditioners and mild fragrance,
A shampoo that coaxed the split ends,
and taught them once again, what was LOVE.


This post is in association with IndiBlogger and its Dove Split End rescue system.

March 24, 2013

Jack is Back in the Corporate Carnival - A Book Review.

Publisher            - HarperCollins
Publication Year            -    2012
ISBN-13         -       9789350293515
ISBN-10          -      935029351X
Language           -  English
Binding -Paperback
Number of Pages            - 307 Pages

About The Author (Source – From the Book)
About the Author (From the Book): P.G Bhaskar is a twenty-first century banker and in that capacity needs everyone’s empathy. A chartered accountant, he left India for Dubai in 1992 and, what with one thing and the other, stayed put, watching the city grow. He now lives there with his wife and teenage son.

Bhaskar is one of the modern world’s thinkers and philosophers. He thinks deeply about several things, including but not limited to, the ups and downs of Indian cricket, why Pluto stopped being a planet, who chose February to have fewer days than other months, and his frequently missing handkerchiefs. He has come to no conclusions on these issues, or indeed on any issue. Nevertheless, he continues to ponder. In the meantime, he has decided to write books, despite being warned that nobody below the age of seventy-two reads nowadays.

There are weekends when you don't have enough time to do everything on your to-do list and then there are those when you don't have anything productive or fun to do. I would  advice you to pick up Jack is Back in the Corporate Carnival for one such day and enjoy the scent of the printed page.

The author succeeds in his effort to bring a smile on his reader’s faces. The story starts with a little healthy bickering between a couple but traces of humor start to appear from the very first page. I would honestly let you know I haven’t read any of Bhaskar’s previous works, so I was not familiar with his writing style and persona.
The book claims itself to be the ‘Funniest Book of the Year’, so I was looking forward to it. Books hardly succeed in making me laugh, I don’t know, whether that’s a problem with me or the books that I read. I found myself smiling through various pages of the story.

The summary tells you every little thing you need to know about the plot of the novel, so no surprises there.
If you’ve read me before, you’d know, I am not a fan of ‘Hindi excerpts’ in an Engligh novel, so that was the only turn off for me.

Pick it up I’d say, if you’re looking for a light read.

I apologize for the late review, IndiTeam.

Chilli, Chicks and Heart Attacks.

Publisher -Westland
Publication Year -2013
ISBN-13 -9789381626887
ISBN-10 -938162688X
Number of Pages -320 Pages

About the Author - (Source : Internet)

Sanjaya Senanayake is one of the millions of South Asians who was born outside the revered continent and brought up in the West. In keeping with this inauspicious occidental origin, Sanjaya has spent his life rebelling against all that is South Asian. Indeed, despite his conservative parents pleadings to become a movie star, watch football and marry a bikini- clad blonde, he thumbed his nose at South Asian convention: Sanjaya is now a doctor who loves cricket and is married to a girl named Dilukshi.

Being a die-hard Grey’s Anatomy fan, I had a lot of expectations from our dear protagonist, Dr. Manju Mendis, a Sri Lankan living in Australia, and I can happily say, I have not been disappointed. Sanjaya clearly leaves no doubt from the very start, that this is no diary of a hospital intern. 

The first surprise that met me was the name Manjula. A very dear friend of my sister’s is named Manjula, and I was surprised to know that the story is about a guy, not a girl. With the desperation of hooking up with somebody, and making it big at Australia’s top public hospital, this story is one hell of a roller-coaster ride.
As many occasions, he finds himself amidst a series of ill-fated misadventures. I wouldn’t say I wasn’t perplexed at first, but the author has made a wonderful effort. It takes a lot of courage to put your words to life and I appreciate Sanjaya for it.  It can easily be called a year of hysterical madness for the protagonist.

The backdrop of being set in a medical background, was the main attraction for me. I have been watching Grey’s and Private Practice since years now, and I can almost tell you why is castor oil used to induce labour or that Dr. Addison Montgomery can perform surgery on an unborn child. The medical procedures described in the book felt almost real. The description of the characters is surreal and it will make you want to meet them in person.

Though the story might be a little predictable at places, you will anyhow enjoy reading it.
Beware! Of the most interesting sex scene description you might have ever read. Again, to each, his own. And, I didn’t know they had a ‘Celebrity Ward’ in hospitals. I’d definitely pay my respectful visits to Dr. Spyder ! He definitely seems worth it.

In the span of a year, Mendes has to learn how to confront fraudulent specialists, self-important clients, and an imperious set of immigrant relatives. Also, he must find time to sustain his fledgling relationships with patients, colleagues, celebrities, and most of all, a girl with a troubled past.

I’d rather call this book, The misadventures of an Intern.

This review is a part of the biggest Book Review Program for Indian Bloggers. Participate now to get free books!

March 12, 2013

Back to the Beginning.

I, am on the verge,
have been, will be,
She, is a temptress,
my untouched chardonnay,
I still, am on the verge,

She whispers love,
with open arms,
a proud charade,
and a kind smile.

She confesses,
'I am a camouflage,
nestled under the veil,
of an unsung promise'

I am on the verge.
have been, will be.

She, is The Beginning.
My Beginning.
My Outlandish Beginning.

PS - This is my 100th post (:

February 14, 2013

Everyday you breathe, Some days you live.

Bonjour mon amis !

From the bottom of this blog's irresponsible writer's heart, A very warm and special 2013 to all of you. Okay, I do realize the fact that my wishes are a little 2 months or so late, but they're heartfelt, genuine, and I know that's all you care about.

My year started with the sudden death of the head of my family, my Badepapa. Although it did put certain things into perspective but the loss is huge. I've never seen my family in this much pain. Its almost like they're aching physically. I wasn't very attached to him but knowing that he's there, supervising everything and everybody, was a comfort like nothing else ever will be. He might have been my dad's elder brother by blood, but he was always more like a father-figure.

His death made me realize several things that were never of much importance to me. I care more now. I tell my loved ones, my family, how my life would be incomplete without them, whenever I find an oppurtunity, or sometimes even when I don't find one.

I try to live, as much as I breathe.

It has been more than a month now and life is starting to take back its toll on everybody. Of course, things won't ever be the same but that sadly, is the tragedy of life.

I'll see you all next time.
Take Care.