Attraversiamo.

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.

If only, she would abort her girl child to protect her from rape..

Unwanted as a baby, insulted as a girl, raped as a woman and silenced as a lady. When did our definition of a woman undergo such a sea of changes ?  Expected to give up her career to raise a family and complete all her chores on time, never asked for an opinion, not allowed to enter the temple in her periods as if it is something she does against God's wishes, dutifully provide the family with healthy sons that grow up to be as insensitive as the others, beaten, burnt and raped. When did we lose our humanity and fell so low that we stopped respecting and started raping the womb that gave us birth ? Many of you might be offended by the title of this post, but I stand by it with all my courage. I would be least surprised if a pregnant woman decides not to have a girl child for the fear of what happened to a 23-year old student in Delhi. Being her age, I can't imagine the trauma that she must be going through.

The media is hungry for that one sensational byte, one statement from the family, one more picture! They manage to ignite a protest, start support groups online, abuse the accused on social networks. But what good does it bring to the victim ? She has become the talk of the nation, but how is it helping her ? Not long ago, a girl from North East India was publicly molested and beaten. The case became viral on Youtube overnight. Banners were hanged, posters were painted. What good came out of it, still manages to stay a mystery. A german woman was raped and murdered in Goa last year and instead of justice, advice was served. Tourists were asked to dress and behave according to the Indian customs while they were in India.

"Protest infront of India Gate, 22nd Dec, show your support". I received this text a few days back, asking me to show my support for the gangrape victim. Many of my friends swore that they wouldn't miss it for the world. Although it did make me think, were they excited because they thought it was cool that they were protesting for a cause for the first time ? or were they angry because an innocent 23-year old was gangraped and thrown out of a moving bus ? 'All the female politicians must be raped', this filth also made it to every youngster's phone, as if the recent happenings weren't disgusting enough. Just this morning, I was informed that the punjabi rockstar Honey Singh has composed a song on the victim, depicting his rage and suppressed anger. All I felt upon hearing it, was humiliation and shame. An obnoxious Bollywood star saw this as an opportunity of promoting his latest movie. The opposition sees it as a means of initiating a political riot. 

What fears me the most is that have we started taking pleasure in the victim's misery or do we enjoy the blame-game ? Some blame the accused, others blame the city altogether.

The main accused, Ram Singh, the bus driver, said that he only did this because his friends thought he was not man enough to have sex with a woman. How does forcing yourself on a woman prove your manhood ? How does that third leg give them the advantage of being superior over women ? Of all the rape case accused that are arrested, almost 70% accept that they did this to show her "her real place". But then, how does forcefully inserting your penis into a vulnerable woman's vagina do that ?

The body, the scars, they all might heal, but will the soul ever heal ? I myself live in a conservative North Indian Punjabi family. I'm not allowed to leave my house alone after 6 in the evening. Even if I have to got to the nearby chemist, I take my brother along. It never makes sense to me, but I do the needful to ease out my parents' worry. But what if a gang of six decide they want to rape me, will my brother be able to protect me ? You see ? right there, something is wrong at the bottom of it all.  

The current maximum penalty in rape cases in India is life imprisonment. Officials say that death sentence has been put on the table and it might be served in extreme rape cases. What I want to know is that, what will be the criteria of deciding which case is an extreme and which isn't.

Is a woman raped by one man for ten minutes any less haunted than a woman gangraped by 6 men for an hour ?

This post is my not-so-poignant ode to the dying human spirit.

In Greed, They Trust.

Having grown up in a close knit joint family, I came across all the pros and cons of living with ten more people strolling around in my home. There was love in our abode all throughout the day's length. A pleasant atmosphere, younger siblings, grand parents, first cousins, lame jokes, picnics and what not. I haven't holidayed much outside north India and my home used to be my favorite place in the whole world. Meals were served, shared and eaten together, and not just happiness, sorrow too was divided amongst all so that the one it aims at doesn't feel the heat of it. My over protective parents nurtured my childhood well and I grew up to be a fine yet sensitive girl, with no clues of any dirt in this world, whatsoever. Little did I know, I was looking forward to witnessing some in my own happy paradise.

One very fine sunny morning, I heard some heated exchange of arguments between my father and my uncles. It was an unpleasant shock to me because the general ambience of our home was quiet and happy. My mother kept me glued inside the four walls of our room because I was at a very impressionable age. Within a fortnight, they became a sad routine. They might have been budding for a while but very innocently they escaped my notice. I was a kid back then and couldn't make much sense out of what my ears caught. Tension grew with each passing day and took over my heaven. Indecency crept in and there was little a girl of thirteen could do about it. A few years later, our family separated, not in a very amicable way. I have never been instructed not to talk to them if I run into them somewhere, my parents are sensible enough to let me make that decision for myself, but the way it all happened has made our bond sour. I miss being the wise elder sister to my little sister, but we never exchange calls. My older brother hasn't heard my voice since the day our families grew apart. I haven't spoken to them ever since, except once at a relative's wedding.

Things got ugly and relationships failed God's testing times.

Own your money, don't let it own you.

Money took it all away and hid it, well. It was a lesson well learnt. There are many beliefs and ideologies that are blamed for the evil present in this world, I lay mine on money. It has made humanity lose its taste and warmth, relationships have become fragile and take no time in falling like a dead leaf.

If I could change one thing around me, it'd be to start treating people for who they are, and not for how heavy their pockets weigh. I know this might give birth to a debate in your mind but money does dominate our minds and thoughts in an ineffable way now. It even spells power for some. If only human mind was capable enough to spot the difference, so to say the least. I'd prefer wearing a smile to a Prada, if that is what it takes to be the change I want to see in others. Politicians are sucking the country dry just for a few extra piles of money in their lockers, wealthy people look down upon their employees like they're alive because of their favors, sisters curse, families wish ill of each other, this whole world stinks of greed. My father is a very modest man, he always says 'Respect your sub-ordinates more than your superiors, no matter how loud your pocket shouts'. And I now realize, it speaks volumes about a person's character.

With no alternate perspective in mind, I enjoy the various luxuries money provides, I love my cellphone, my jewellery, my clothes, but devouring them at the cost of losing my loved ones and my dignity is something that will never make sense in my world. I don't reserve the greatest praise for the saint who has attained spiritual blessedness and abandoned all worldly pleasures, that would be a hypocrite act because I myself will never do so. Indulging in a little pleasure every now and then doesn't hurt, but doing so by robbing somebody else off their hard-earned income and stabbing your brother in the back might. I'm no preacher and I'm not perfect but a little sense and love can give you all that greed and money can't. A good night's sleep blesses only those who earn it, not those who steal it.

I am not saying its easy to walk away from lusting over money, but not letting it get to your head would be the key, and even if it does go to your head, have the nerve to fight it away.

From Bother To Brother.

What would life be without a meager frivolous bickering with your baby-brother every other day ? A little squabble over who gets to keep the warmer of the two blankets ? My day wouldn't be complete. All these years, I've grown up to witness this fact creep under my skin that I love my brother more than I'd ever love anything else.

I went to the city market with my sister today. Two little kids frolicked their way around the multifarious variety of chocolates present there, while their mother roamed about collecting groceries in her red basket. I loved eavesdropping on them. The girl must have been around four and the boy seemed a couple of years elder to her. Her little ponytail swayed with concealed pride and its blue band kept it firmly in place. They looked at those candies and chocolates as if they were to make the decision of their life and one wrong pick would rob the universe of all its happiness. Their eyes were smiling with an argosy of elation. Their manner forced me to think what was wrong with the way I've been brought up ? I've never been turned on by the shine of that naked brown bar. They looked at the chocolates as if they were speaking to them in some other world language that only kids below 10 could comprehend. I felt cheated. Deep Down. Those bars never spoke to me.

But what caught my attention the most was the way that kid took care of his little sister. He was gripping her hand really tight. she even asked him to leave her hand once, he said a few simple words and they went back to their big decision 'I will not come looking for you if you get lost'. She gave an angry shrug and those tiny eyes started searching for her mother. I couldn't help but smile. I tried making small talk by saying hello but all I got in return was 'Papa has told us not to talk to strangers'. I chuckled and went on with my business.

Memories of our old house and my childhood came rushing in. I remember being jealous of my brother just because mom would carry him in her arms more than me. Suddenly one day I was no more the youngest pet, everybody wanted to smother him with kisses and not me. Everyone brought gifts for the new baby because he was cuter. I won't lie, that phase too had a beauty of its own. That little midget has grown up to be a handsome young man who also happens to be my best friend and my most trusted confidante today. I have seen my friends living oblivious to the presence of their younger siblings at home, it aches my heart to see such love lost between them.

My baby-brother :P

Having a sibling is a blessing, sometimes in disguise, of course :P

Make this day a happy one, go and tell yours how much they mean to you :)

The Year That Was Gracious

Because I don't do new year resolutions, a post like this was out of question. Writing about how the past 365 days changed your life is no easy task. People came and went, I cried, laughed, cared, loved, envied, desired, bitched, and above all, graduated, feelings grew, I started to write, you appreciated, a lot happened. I don't know why am I putting this in ink but something inside me says I should.

The only thing that hasn't changed is that I still don't feel I'm my age. I can finally drive without knocking somebody out, I can cook without burning myself ( No, that's not completely true ), I drunk my brains out on the last day of college (That is one story you'd never want to hear), L&T sent me my offer letter ( although I couldn't join because of some reason, but them wanting to hire me was reason enough to be ecstatic ), and as I am writing this I'm beginning to comprehend how awesome 2011 was.

I have been a lost lamb since past 6 months and it has made me realize how important is it for me to keep myself busy at all times. And all this free time has given me a better perspective about life and people now, I hope it isn't some sporadic incident, not that I've become preachy and don't enjoy watching 'Enchanted' and 'Aquamarine' now, but still, I can feel that little change in the my left ventricle.

I acknowledge my feelings in a way I've never done before. And I also know, no matter how many new and fun friends I make, the old ones will always stay glued to my heart. Although 2011 did brutally take some away but I don't care about things, people and situations that are beyond my repair mechanism. I've learnt to let go. Yes. I have. And trust me, it is the most peaceful feeling ever. Plus, I don't blame my fiery sunsign for my insane habits now. I now know, its pure me, it always was.

I never knew writing could give me such a high. I've never felt drunk on beatitude ever before. Reverence, is the word, and Now, is the time.

My dear 2011, You were a good kid, I wish your sibling loves me as much as you did, or rather more.

A very Happy New Year to all you beautiful people !



P.S. My two left feet promise to stick around forever, no new year can change that.

Smile, Giggle And Laugh

Smile. Always had more to it than what the world claimed to know. Sometimes a simple gesture, Sometimes pure, selfish pleasure. The world feels good today. I woke up and there was a smile on my lips. It is a usual day, but there is something extra-ordinarily unsual about it, or is it just me ? I got thinking about how a gesture so little can convey meanings so deep. I'm a simple girl, I don't dream a lot, I don't gaze at stars ( I, as a matter of fact, visit my terrace only when it rains, and I don't understand the concept of gazing at stars), I hate slangs, I adore people who have dimples on their cheeks, the intoxicating baby smell makes me smother them with kisses and eat them up, I'm not random, have never been, but I smile, a lot. Life has been very gracious to me when it comes to looking for reasons to smile and giggle about. They come naturally to me.

A few months back I decided to start writing a blog, journal the not so interesting incidents of my life, give fiction a try and when I published my first post about my mother, I was grinning ear to ear. My blog secretly became my guilty pleasure. Guilty because it is all I do and think about these days. I met a lot of beautiful people here, and I'm amazed at how much talent you all have. Genuinely amazed. I was loved, praised, welcomed with open arms and I reciprocated back with all my heart. But recently things have been a little hazy, words are not coming easy to me. They're making me struggle. I don't think I have it in me anymore. You won't see me posting for a while now. And I suddenly realize maybe that's what the smile was all about. My mind knew it had reached some conclusion :) It just wanted me to comprehend and process it.

I have no idea for better or for worse but I will be back :)

Any bitter-sweet messages you have for me, please please please materialize them into words and send them to me.

And do not forget to Smile, Giggle And Laugh a little more everyday :)

That way I'm leaving a part of me with you :)

XOXO

.. I Love You But I Love Myself More

I'd be lying if I'd say I've forgotten you.

I'd be lying if I'd say tears don't brim up my eyes when I think of you.

I'd be lying if I'd say I don't love you.

I became permeable when I let you in my heart.

And you consumed me,

much more than what I was willing to relinquish,

There is more of you, than me, in myself now,

You made me grow out of it.

I've fallen out of love.

Those wounds would never heal,

You've left me with one little souvenir,

The one thing, I'll cherish forever,

That still keeps me going,

is Strength.

That cage isn't my home now,

I feel liberated,

I love you

But I love myself more,

And am not ashamed to say so.

These lines have no business in my life. These have been written for those people who let their better half suck all the happiness out of their life, just because they once thought they were meant to be together for eternity. When two people are deeply in love, they promise each other the moon and the sun, but once the veil of adoration starts to lift itself, this love can become a sad,toxic version of itself.

Have the heart to speak up for what you think makes sense and see how the world becomes a beautiful place to live in once again. Love yourself first. Breathe. Make decisions. Love is not supposed to make you miserable.

When I heard Samantha say 'I love You but I love Myself more' in 'The Sex and the City' for the first time, I fell for her all the more.

I ♥ Phoebe Buffay !

You've got to watch this :D

Skinny Love

Music and its swirl of magic. Rhythm so enchanting you want to drown your soul into it. The breath-taking delight of shoving in the earphones. The saxophone throbbing right in the center of your head. Lyrics so heartfelt, your skin breaks into goosebumps. Just when you're giving in to the slow melody, the hard rock kicks in. Your head swirls into a mad frenzy. The swing. The harmony. Acoustics. And finally the beats knock in, exploding a shimmer of joy inside you. A dizzying spell is cast. Ecstasy unfurls its wings and makes you fly. High. Beatitude pulsating against your heart, hammering its smile into it. The intoxicating trance of mirth engulfs you. Insatiable, you're left wanting for more.

Birdy - Skinny Love

Music is my very soul.

My playlist right now

• Birdy - Skinny Love
• Here Without You - 3 Doors Down
• Firework - Katy Perry
• Hey There Delilah - Plain White T

Feel Blessed !

3 days back, I woke up to find that my eyes were not their regular classic blend of black and white, they were in fact a much more legendary amalgamation of red, black and white. My pupil looked like the sun of the solar eclipse hurling out red rays.

I rushed towards mom in a haste never known before, for I had the last exam of my B.Tech odyssey, 2 days later, that would qualify me as a software engineer.

I was noways going to let my eyes, ruin it for me. We reached the ophthalmologist in no time, giving in to the exigency of the situation. 

I witnessed something there, that made my heart weep. While I was impatiently waiting for my turn, a young couple entered with their little 4-5 months old daughter.

My own eyes were such a stupid mess that I did not give them any second look. But to my horror, they had not come to get their own eyes treated, they had come for their daughter.

Upon listening this, I took as close a look as I could permit myself staying stuck to my seat. That baby's left pupil was grayish-white. The doctor checked her before me (although they came after me. I wouldn't have appreciated this for anybody else if it wasn't for this baby's eye) and unfortunately I was forced to listen to that conversation. 

Doctor - It's better now.

Mother (her face lit with hope) - will she be alright ?

Doctor - I cant say that right away. As of now, carry on with the same medicines. 

Mother - Can she see from this eye ?

Doctor - No, not yet. But I can assure you, she will, someday. And this mark will stay forever.

Mother (bombed by the news) - Is there nothing we can do to remove the mark ? No surgery ? No operation ?

Doctor - No. No ophthalmologist in this world can cure this. Its like you get a bruise on some part of your body, get it treated well, but still, the mark never leaves. 

Mother (almost in tears) - when should we come next ?

Doctor (With the same straight face throughout) - Come next Friday and increase the dosage of these drops to 3 times a day.

I almost had a tear or two flooding my eyes, thanks to that little infection I had bored, nobody noticed.

Neither did they choose their poverty, nor did you choose your castle.

Help people in all possible ways. It will be your Moment of Bliss.

We complain about broken nails, ill-fitted dresses, bad exams, being over-weight, fat asses, love life trouble and what not but that day, I realized people have problems of a much serious scale and a much bigger magnitude.

My eye infection would have been okay the next morning had I washed them with cold refrigerated water 4-5 times a day but still I visited the doctor.

God divided this world into two concepts- the privileged and the unprivileged.

Most of you reading this fall in the former category and still moan about those petty non-existent things.

My purpose of sharing this incident with you is to tell you to feel privileged and blessed. Help, Pray and be Thankful. God has been very grateful to you, you owe him this lovely life of yours.

I pray for that little baby and expect you also to take some time out for her and talk God into curing her completely.

This post was written somewhere in June 2011 and I had just begun to write back then. My eyes were a little bad this morning and I got reminded of that baby. And because I have a decent sweet number of readers now, I'm re-posting it. I want more people to realize life's fair to us and its just a matter of realization.


Have a good day :)

Painful Escape

This is the diary entry of a 41 year old woman who wants to walk out of her marriage of 20 years, away from Tanuj, the man who never loved her, and into the arms of Akash, the man who acquainted her with true love. Her twin daughters have made it clear that if she does so, she will be a childless woman for the rest of her life.


Dear Diary,

I haven't written you in a long while now. and I've truly missed you. Its time, its time for me to make a decision. My stomach is clenching even as I am writing this, its like somebody is rolling a dough inside it. Its a hard dough. My girls, they are merely 19. Would it be the right thing to do at this time ? I can't afford to lose their love, their warmth, if at all they have some for me. It all feels wrong, and right, both at the same time. I have never been this confused in my entire life. And if I don't make a choice now, my heart will grieve till eternity. Akash has given me all the support and love I was expecting from Tanuj, I had rented my heart and soul to this marriage, but it just isn't working. You are such a patient listener. I wish you could drop a word of advice in desperate times like these.

Silence is engulfing me from all sides, its making me nauseous, its becoming hrad hard to write. See there, I made my first spelling mistake in you. Is this pen trying to humor me ? But I can't stop. It all has to escape my system and pouring it down into the depths of your diaphanous pools of white paper is my only rescue plan.


Last night Tanuj came to my bedroom around 1am. I was wide awake. I sat upright and he sat next to me cupping my hands in his. I thought he was going to lure me into staying or beat me into the argument 'How did you even think of such a thing' but his words were the last things I was expecting out of him at that hour.


He said 'When you first told me about Akash, I was writhing with pure rage. The man in me felt defeated, as if his manhood was being raped off and he could do nothing about it. My wife was falling for another man and I was just a spectator watching the proceedings. But I've been thinking about it since past one week and your facts still hold their truth firmly in place. Why did we never realize that we were falling out of love ? When did it happen ? We have been sleeping in different bedrooms since a decade now. I dismissed this earlier using the excuse 'Everybody needs their own space'. I was such a fool. Anyway, I came today to tell you that you shouldn't stay because of the fear of this society or our girls. They seem to have taken more from me, they will live. I have never given you the love,the care and the support a woman deserves from her better half. I've failed you miserably but now, when somebody else is making you happy, I will support your decision. I owe you that much.'


He said the last words slowly, meaning every syllable of it. He didn't wait for my reply and strode out of the room. I was left dazed. These words were as close as Tanuj had ever got to my heart in these 20 years of our marriage.


But as I'm writing you right now, Tanuj's words are making more and more sense. Why should I worry about this hypocrite society when they don't care one bit for me ? They don't know what I've been through. I dare them to walk a mile in my shoes and then return to have a balanced argument. I have lived 20 years succumbing to my parent's will and 21 years to the man who never loved me. If I have to make a decision it has to be now. Or never.


I'm leaving you unfinished today. The next time I write you, I will be a happy woman.
And by the way, my first wrinkle started to surface today.


Love.

Barren

The cursor winks innocently at me, patient and giving, appearing and disappearing. It seems to follow the rhythm of my heart, waiting for me to knit something on the clear white screen, but there are no words, none to scribble across it. My gaze is held transfixed by the moving traffic,

why is it so smooth today ?

It is one of those moments when you stare at something without actually sinking it in. It is a mesh, a mesh of varied colors. A yellow taxi, a white Mercedes, a toddler dressed in bright green, Oh, her pram, what is it, deep blue or electric blue ? and the brown exteriors of the mexican restaurant across the road.

My screen-saver comes to life. The waiter brings in my third Lattè, I peel my gaze off the haze, Had I forgot to tell him to put in less milk this time ?, What is wrong with him ? Has mom coaxed him into shoving some milk into my milk-starved system ? The stupid thought took flight as soon as it had landed into the company of the voices in my head.

The voices are growing, maturing with each passing minute. All budding new thoughts are ragged and limped away like lifeless dolls. They're not whispering to each other anymore. They want my attention, each one of them, they're fighting for it, I should really join those power-yoga classes Aunt Maggie suggested to Lenny.

I could feel ice in the air I was inhaling, It was going to snow soon. 

Finishing my coffee, I fold my laptop, gather my thick-rimmed over-sized glasses from the top of my head, give my eyes a little cover, hug my neck with my peach silk scarf, straighten my dress, run a finger through my curls and head towards home.

There are days in every writer's cave when words are just not ready to fall in place, with their pen poised in the air, mind set into motion, no thought overcome those dominant voices and succeed in materializing themselves into ink.

This is one of those days for an amateur like me and I'm not liking it.

Can't I be in love with both of you?

***

02 September 2011


That question, those words, rang in his head like a church bell for days. Loud. Demanding. His heart was cicatrized, she'd bruised it with scars for the rest of his meaningless life.

He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he first saw that same tenderness in her eyes, but for another man. She had shone like the brightest star in the galaxy at the mere mention of his name. Their brilliance back then hurt his liquid eyes now. He should have got the hint right there. How could he be so ignorant ? How could he do this to himself ? How could he do this to them ?

NO.

  

how could she do this to them ?


27 December 2009

She had those perfect amber eyes, eyes so deep, only a thick band of amber around the pupils, he'd wanted to fall into them and then keep falling forever. Hair so lustrous he'd wanted to entangle his fingers in them. Those swells of feminism across her breasts, her hour glass sculpted waistline always made him wonder 'Is she for real ?'. He held her like a gorgeous fragile creation of an artist, like a painter's muse, as if he might break her in his arms.

Her melodic voice brought him back to the surface.

She'd said ' where are you lost Arin, the movie is about to start, Let's hurry up'.

And all he could manage to mumble was 'Aria, tell me something, Did you bribe God into customizing those gems for your eyes ?'.

She gave a low seductive chuckle and hurried them into the movie theatre.
Aria had dug her nails into his flesh, he'd warned her about the ghost part of the movie but she was determined to watch it. And just when the squeaky door started to open on its own, Aria stood up and screamed at the highest pitch of her voice.

02 September 2011

That scream brought Arin back to the present. His ears could hear the sound of a glass shattering somewhere in the near vicinity and for an instant he thought he'd imagined it. His family was waiting for him downstairs but he could not make his legs cover the distance.

How could it be so easy for her to send a question like that across my face ? Arin asked himself. And what was my answer supposed to be ?.

It was 13 months since he'd last seen her but her memories were still haunting him, occupying a large room in his head. Even that little black mole on the nape of her neck hadn't escaped his thoughts. Grief threatened to overcome. Tears began to swell in his eyes but he fought to send them back to where they came from. He threw a humorless laugh around his room as he remembered what his dad had told him when he was six and was crying because he had a wounded knee 'Big boys don't cry my boy'.

He wanted the time spent with her to become a tale from his distant childhood, something he could scarcely remember even if he wanted to. No matter how hard he tried, he only wanted to catch glimpses, and if possible, not even them.

He shoved away her thoughts and started looking for the better half of the brown sock he was wearing in his left foot, Why do I always find my socks without their pair ?, opening the last drawer of the wooden rack, he was face to face with a picture, I told Meher not to click this picture, when will she ever learn to listen ? It was Aria leaning over his right shoulder and his palm covering half of the picture signalling Meher not to click it.

16 November 2009

He picked it up and remembered that playful night, It was their common friend Meher's birthday. Aria had never touched alcohol before, but upon insistence she did some shots and they really got the worst of her.

The only good thing about that night was that while Aria was drunk, she clutched onto Arin's shirt like a little baby clutching onto the only piece of clothing within its reach. She hung on to him in a way that said You're all mine and Arin rained back all of his love supporting her, hiding her into his warm embrace.

That was their first affectionate embrace. Arin could never forget that day.

02 September 2011

Arin, Arin, Where are you lost son ? He could suddenly hear the motherly voice of his aunt standing right in front of him, shaking his shoulders. He came back to life, Nothing Umm Nothing, I can't find my right sock, Let me put the black pair on, You will see me downstairs in 5 short minutes. A forced smile punctuated his otherwise lifeless words.

I have to let go of these thoughts, let go of her and her betayal.

I will, I will, soon, I have to.

But how could she ask me a question like 'Can't I be in love with both of you ?'

The question had stung his heart then and it had the power to do it now.


He wiped the warm tears trickling down his eyes and rushed downstairs.

***

I will name my daughter Aria if God ever blesses me with one :) Short melodic names starting with the alphabet 'A' sweep me off my feet :)
This was a different genre I tried, Be nice enough to tell me how it went ? even if it didn't touch your heart :) Your criticism is also welcome :)

My Sweet Nothings

I so adore making lists :) Here I come up with another one :) Certain very beautiful little instances of my life have been enlisted here and I'd so re-read this when I grow old, become a toothless granny and laugh my lungs out at how crazy I was :D

1. I love the strawberry fragrance of my new soft wash. It's so fruity and vibrant. Makes me feel like a fat strawberry fresh out of the green. LOL :D

2. When I'm bored studying, I love making weird patterns on the bed sheet ( I make good contrasts, I have pens in all colors ) and on the pajamas I'm wearing.
The look on mom's face is worth capturing when she sees them. :P

3. I love the feeling that hungry version of me experiences when I see my food arriving at a restaurant.

4. I absolutely adore the blue family. Aqua, Royal blue, Sea blue, Sky blue. Love'em all.

5. I love it when my mom sends me and my brother a text everynight saying 'I love you both, gudnite beta', although it takes her an eternity to write through her qwerty keypad, she does it for us.
I'm proud, I taught her how to text :)

6. I love to apologize without saying sorry.

7. I love it when I find people doing the same wierd things that I do.

8. I love it when after a long winter day, I get into my oh-so-cozy bed and my quilt takes time to move from cold to warm to more warm. That warmth makes it all worthwhile.

9. I love 'How I met your mother'. I feel so so so connected. I cried when Marshall lost his father.

10. I love the simplicity and neatness of cartoon character's lives. I used to read comic books when I was a kid and more than the story, the environment interested me. Any damn colored walls, clean neat simple homes, little windows, everything so cute and proper. (Yea, you guessed it right, I'm an obsessesive Virgo) :P

11. I love receiving instant replies to texts sent after 2 AM.

12. One new message on Facebook makes me much more happier than 10 new notifications.

13. When idleness leaves me with no choice, I love to paint pretty pictures on my nails :)

This picture came out as a result of my exam anxiety :P

14. I love the cold side of the pillow.

15. I love completing a task before the microwave beeps.

16. I love to try going back to sleep hoping to complete my incomplete dream.

17. I absolutely love to surprisingly find money that I don't know of in my jeans pocket.

18. I love balancing a light switch and then celebrate my little success with myself :)

19. This is one thing that does not happen but I'd love it if it ever does. I wish to receive letters from my friends. Not the ones they hand over to me themselves but the ones that are actually posted. The ones that have little drawings of hearts and flowers and stuff on the borders. :D Huh !! stupid cellphones and low call rate plans. Letters are extinct.

20. I love the sight and sound and feel and touch of the rain.

21. I totally love the tininess of baby clothes and other articles. My nephew and my neice give me tonnes of happiness by being so little and crazy :) !

22. I love falling asleep on a couch and waking up with a blanket on me. Mom Mom Mom. Can I ever love you more ?

23. Damn you Steve Jobs, You've made me fall in love with a gadget. I adore my iPhone like bees adore honey. I used to loathe touch screens and now my fingers try to flee off my hand when they see a keypad.

P.S. when is the next one coming out ?

24. I know 24 is a weird number to end this list but no censoring and no extra footage to anything that hasn't earned to be here.

- I love to smile when I send you a smiley. Sending an emotion and not an emoticon is the sweetest thing life taught me. :) (Yes, I did smile).

Have a pretty day :) !

Hugs :*