Oh! The little things

The exams are over now. Relieved all are. Happy all are. Rejoiced all are. Cheerful all are. Off to playground. The swing just keeps calling. The voices of friends keep echoing in the head. The cricket bat and ball keep re-appearing at the back of mind. The bell of cycle just keeps forcing to get down the stairs as soon as possible. The flapping of cycle paddles awakes the soul. The houses made of mud were all alone till yesterday. The barbie dolls haven't slept since nights, someone needs to change her clothes and comb her hair. The kitchen set haven't fed anyone for days now. The building blocks haven't built anything since days. The toy cars need to be ridden again. The buildings are left wandered without chupan chupai. The roads are empty without the pakadam pakdai. The stappo has vanished off the roads. It needs to be drawn again. So many things to be done. Its just a huge, never ending list.
But wait! There's even more. The new books have arrived in the stores. One must insist the parents to get it as early by today evening, after all, all the friends have bought them. The books beget in bundles. Two bundles, each of notebooks and books. All piled up subject-wise. Tightened with strong threads. All comes along a list. The fun finds its way, when the things listed are cross checked with what is in the bundle. The books are fresh with white soft pages. A different fragrance reaches the lungs along with deep breaths. Name stickers are pasted on the new copies and are now arranged rightly in the book shelf, replacing the old books.
Off to play we go again!
Thats a 'little' tribute to school days. :)
Thanks to a cousin who came home for a week and made us all live again.

Morning brimmed with Love

The room was already a mess. The empty bottles of wine were around the place. So were their wedding dresses, since last night. The curtains were flying with the wind. Suddenly the first ray of morning sunlight enters the room. She was already awake, in his shirt, came out of the bed. Quickly prepared tea for him and coffee for herself. She'd promised for the bed-tea for the entire life. Reached back to the bed and had set the pillow. With her back on it, she was waiting for the picture she'd be dreaming of  desperately; yet. The clock was ticking away. The birds were awake too, chirping. Clearly, it was morning. Their first morning together. The room was white-painted. The alarm didn't ring, she didn't set it. Sweetly, she didn't want alarm clock to wake him up. The sunlight slowly takes one step forward and reaches the floor. Another step, reaches the bed.

Her breathes getting faster. 

Another step, reaches his face.

She gasped slowly. 

"Here it is", she mesmerized.

The cup of love

The sunlight patiently touched her lover's face. First the hair, then the forehead, then the eyes, then the nose, then the lips. Her breaths had almost stopped. All these years she'd been await for this. Was it an Illusion? Or is it true? The jeopardized time had come. 

He getting irked a bit as the sunlight getting heavier on his eyes and takes a twirl getting into her lap with lines on his forehead. She hid him form the heavy sunlight. She watched him, immensely. Lingered her hands through his hair. "I Love you", she whispered.

The lines on his forehead quickly disappearing. Surely, this soothes him. Not the three magical words, but her voice. Her graceful voice calms his soul. 

He opens his eyes. The angelic being has reached the heavenly earth.

"Hi baby", she said, still lingering her hands through his hair. 

"Hi!", he said, holding her another hand to his chest, looking up to her face.

The room, before white, colorless, dull came to life with his voice. Shimmered with their Love. Colorful with hopes.

"Tea?" she said passing on the cup to him.

The talks continued again. 

Times comes and passes. What stays are the feelings and the
talks.

Surely, conversations are the best part of any relationship. People grow old, but the talks stay. 

And so, this still continues in their journey. The morning tea and the coffee. She waking up every morning earlier than him. After all, this was her dream. Waking up to her lover each morning. 

Ladies Special

"The first coach in the moving direction of the train, is RESERVED FOR LADIES", hear it quite often right?
This post, is specially dedicated to that first coach of the metro. The guys, at first should be thankful to me for am giving them a ride of the place, where they are pathetically, authentically banned!

I boarded the metro from sector 21 Dwarka, the station from which the metro begins. Right at the next station, two women boarded the metro in the same coach as mine.
"Why didnt you do love marriage?", a women asked other while sitting, supposedly they were talking even before they boarded the metro.
"I didnt find any guy who'd love me truly, however I have found now", the second women said.
"Your husband?", first women asked.
"Not exactly, there's one in my office. We'd been to three dates as yet!" she exclaimed.
"Amazing news", the first women said in astonishment, while taking out her phone. Maybe she'd text her friends.
I looked around. Women talking loudly, laughing, eyes getting bigger, some times smaller. Ofcourse, we are free! No men around, was the gesture truly visible.
At next station, Sector 9, the number of women in the coach increased. So did the tik tok of heels. So did the clinging of ghungroos. So did the talks.
"I tell you, Mrs Gupta is such a bitch!", a women exhaled to each sitting at her left and right. Three of them seeming like around 45 years or so. All in corporate dresses.
"Dont tell me, she again had an affair with the PA!", a women on her left said in a hushed tone, putting on her bush while looking in the mirror.
"Darling, she's reached the manager now. I saw her doing "thing" with him, in his office today, horrifying it was"! she said.
"Oh my gosh!, the women on right screamed and females around turned at her. The women at left kept her hand on her open mouth. Eyes damn bigger.
That's not it.
"I love your legs", a girl in jeans said to another in shorts.
The girl in shorts smiled, as if she saw it coming. With pride, yes.
"I recently went to this amazing spa! Its a must try. I mean, look at me, this is what they did! Nice naa?", she said stretching her legs.
Few girls were alone, as I was. Few were making use of their headsets. Few just gazing at each other, {I guess thats the section I belong to}. When a women is alone, trust me, she loves staring here and there for passing time.
A group of young girls just gazing at other's handbags, clutches, hairdo, dresses, nail art, footwear and giving them a score on ten. The coach is not pink, its colorful. Not just colors; smiles, amazement, expressions, relations, bellow, dresses, high heels makes it all colorful!
I got down at Sector 12. The outside world seemed too quite.
Women! Huh! A breed of humans which can never be duplicated. So what does a guy expect, when they enter this coach, when they are hushed and shouted at by women, to take the hell out of here? Cos its RESERVED? Nope! Its cos we can be 'ourselves' here. We will not think to act or talk about something here. Its just a set free space! We can shout about something. Yell about anything. This space makes us feel special.
Thereafter, Males, think a hundred times to step up here!You might just get eaten.

Sweet dReAmS

2:10 am. 18th March 2012:

He called. She picked up. "Happy Anniversary", he said sweetly to her.
"To you too", she said in awe.
Then the talks got back to normal ones. The regular homely stuff, the college mess, the studies carried along, the usual ups and downs of this thing called Life. She talked with phone in one hand, inside the blanket and doing her college work with right hand. He, typing something on his pc, rather his usual "fb going" time and simultaneously listening to every word she says. Not just hearing, actually listening.
The "talks" went for another half an hour, just when he shuts off the pc and gets into the bed. Earphones connected to the phone, connected to his ears.
3:30 am.
"You feeling sleepy kya?" she said, still scribbling down on the pages of her file.
"Not really", he said, in a tone, which she knows is a sign he'll sleep soon.
This has surely happened lot many times. He getting dozed off, when she's speaking. His snores hearing loud and clear. She then cuts down the phone, (mainly in anger) what can she do otherwise?
"Just let me know if you are", she said patiently, "I'll not scold you", she said smirking.
" Yes, I will", he said, the tone getting more sleepy now.
3:35am
He slept.
Thank God to his snores, she realized it.
But, she wasn't angry.
2 years 7 months of togetherness does not lead to anger anymore. Somewhere, he always tries his best to give her a ear. Patience and Love are his keys.
She silently smiled on the other side of the phone. "Sleep tight honey, Love you", she whispered and kissed the phone. She imagined him sleep, with his earphones still on, phone in one hand. Dreaming he must be. Dreaming her of course. He always has been. He still does. He always will. Sleeping like a little boy. Snoring completed the picture. Imagination is the only way. The world keeps them apart, at least during the night. It will still take years for her to jump out of the imagination and step into the real world.
After some hours, he will wake up, startled, with head phones still in his ears and speak into them; her name. Not to worry, they'll talk in the morning again. They talk all day. Sometimes all night.
The sweetest of all the relations they ever had, was, is, will be of his' and her's.

Celebrating Womenhood

I may not have seen God. But I have seen my mother. That's the only simple way I can describe a women. A mother- the best person, women in the universe.

She adds colors to our lives. A sister, a mother, a friend, a daughter.
She is incomparable. (Picture by Hardik Guarav)

A daughter, the best supporter.
A friend, the best booster.
A sister, the best friend.
A teacher, the best guide.
A Lover, the one who makes you feel complete.
A women is an epitome of strength. Pillar of power. Shadow of God. Pill of happiness.  An architecture of patience. An appealing beauty inside-out.
Rain of  Love. Spring of awesomeness. Summer of magic. Winter of innocence.
Being 19, am myself on the road of moudling into a women, or have I? I forbid saying that. I am nowhere near a mother for sure.
She sacrifices. She supports. She Loves. She shields. She protects. She stands for all, even when none stands for her. She is as strong as an iron. She is as soft as a flower. She is fearless. She is the most beautiful thing nature has made. She is selfless. She is a multi-tasker. She is inspiring. She is magnificent. She is breathtaking. She is moving. She is majestic. She is grace. She is marvelous. She is exquisite. She is ideal. She is gorgeous.  She is tender. She is darling. She is praise. She is charm. She is adore. She is angel. She is omnipresent. She is immortal in the hearts of all.
She is a women.
The words seem less when you describe a women- any.

A father's strength, hope and friend. A daddy's girl.

Her laughter gives life to the entire world

Her patience, tolerance is unmatched

And she blooms like a flower in the lives of all

She feeds her children, shelters and protects them
 even in the hardest of times.

And just when she grows old; she has crossed the bars of perfection
.......like a million times.

Colors of Spring

It was just yesterday when I'd keep the winter clothing inside the bunk and replaced them with summer ones after a hard work of two hours. Its the time of the season, when the summer collides with winters and boom! summer wins! 

Not to forget, at the end of winter season, on the day after the full moon in early March is a grand celebration- festival of Holi.

Yes, the festival of colors, as it is mentioned. The gulal hidden in everyone's fists. Buckets of colored water ready at everyone's balconies and terraces. Water guns ready at children's backs and hands. Balloons filled with colored water instead of regular air. Gujjias and jaljeera pani ready to be attacked on. Grown ups are children again. Its just an excuse to give away the old clothes and step out in streets. All are feared in the morning and by afternoon arrives every one becomes engineer of how to attack people. No one can be recognized. The color, the enjoyment, the zest, the commemoration, the fete, masquerade, the triumph takes over all. 

May this Holi fills your life with colors!

Holi spares none.

Barring, the day comes with albatross around the neck:

* The regular colors available on the streets causes skin damage to many. These can also affect the ears, nose, eyes. This year, replace them with herbal or organic colors. Not only they are made up free of chemicals, but does not cause damage to any body organ which will come for 10 rs extra than regular ones.

*Try to wear oldest of your clothes and try keeping your arms and legs covered. Make sure your face and arms are well creamed and hair well oiled. Not only they prevent skin but also makes you difficult to catch!

*Do not use permanent dyes. Even if one has applied it on you, try removing it with good quality cleansing milk.

*When someone applies colors on you, keep your eyes and mouth shut!

Remember the above points and have fun this Holi! Eat loads of gujjias. And do not cause damage to anyone. 

The Color of Blissfulness!

The yellow mustard farms

I very well bear in mind, the first time I was exposed to colors. When my parents taught me the primary colors: Blue, Red, Yellow. And I would scream "Yellow" all the time, everywhere. I would always pick the yellow token in ludo, snake and ladders. I would start coloring any picture with yellow first. I would go for shopping for school bag, water bottles, clothes and ask every shopkeeper, "ye yellow mein dikhao". I would love the yellow flowers at first: the yellow rose, the yellow mustard flowers. "Dekho kitni duur tak yellow hai", I would scream looking at mustard farm at village. The trend is going on since I was 2 and a half years.
I still scream "Yellow!!!" looking at the autos, the school buses, the road signals, the lights leaving all the people around me starring in amazement. Its simply my Love for this color.
Wonder what in this color has drowned me completely into it?

Yellow flowers completes the nature

Ask me what I see in this color?
Ask my why only this color? Why not something else?
The only answer I come up is:
"Yellow" for me means, bliss, cheer, delight, ecstatic, glee, liveliness, vivacity, rejoice, laughter, playfulness, joy, jubilation, optimism, laughter and a lot many feelings!
Yellow=Me
It makes me happy! The more number of things I see in yellow the entire day, I believe my day will be more good spirited. It just increases my luckiness and charm.
Another thing about yellow, which we all notice: the lights. The lamps are empty without yellow. The street lights would be of no use without yellow. Fireflies are abandoned without yellow. The diwali diyas, the autumn leaves, the flames, the crackers, everything is bare without yellow.

Just when the sunlight enters the room, every little details in the life blooms!

Also, the Sunshine is yellow. It means beginning of the new day, new hopes, new opportunities. When the sunlight explodes through my window panes, I feel like starring it at till it disappears. When the sunlight makes wonderful patters in my house, it gives me peace of mind. When the sunlight explodes from the leaves, I feel like a part of dark, horror, gloomy part inside me has vanished.
I crave for the yellow kurtis, yellow slippers, yellow clips, yellow rubber bands, yellow tops, yellow towels, yellow paint... in short everything yellow.

Yellow sunshine adds pleasure to the frame of Life

"After every dark, stormy, chilled night comes a bright, blissful, summery, Yellow morning"!

Another season ends

"The ending is a new beginning", they say quite often. Or so, I thought.
Last week, I went to the last wedding of this so-called Marriage Season. The Indian Marriage.
Wherein, the women in backless blouses, net sarees. Somewhere exposing backs, or somewhere big fat bellies. Talking about their in-laws. Rather, bitching. Hopping around at every food stall and pushing everything in their mouths, as if never seen a lot. As a matter of fact, everyone does that. Girls stalking guys. Guys stalking girls. Offsprings jumping at every place possible. Women just enviously gazing at each other's jewellery and attire. And men, what to say.
Well, this post isn't about blabbering and bitching, its more about the big fat Indian Weddings. Each marriage now has a corner separate for pictures and a photographer appointed for the same. Not everyone knows the couple much, but for sure all will go up the stage and get the pictures done with the couple. Along with lots of zooming and unnatural poses, I say the photographers are the best things to happen at the wedding. The deejey ofcourse isn't bothered. And so are the chefs. However, all the tables do have plenty to fresh flowers, which I ensure atleast a bouquet is stolen by me at every wedding.
And yes! The brides ofcourse! are bothered more for giving good poses, she knows the pictures will go on facebook. Agreed, the time has changed!
The winter winds starts immensely at around 12 midnight or so. As yet, no girl will show they are dieing in net sarees with backless blouses. If they say, the parents will adamantly say "told you so". Rather, they pretend its a summer breeze. Funny! Yes, for sure, Indian marriages are the best thing to occur. The food is free and so is the sight seeing. Comeon! At most of them, I dont even know who is marrying whom. Never-the-less, I do know which stalls were there!

Waiting for next marriage season to arrive soon.