It’s okay to be little disobedient…

“To all the little girls who are watching, never doubt that you are valuable and powerful and deserving of every chance and opportunity in the world to pursue and achieve your own dreams.” – Hillary Clinton

She disobeyed the unwritten laws forced by the society, openly. She wore it like a badge of honour. They call her names, feminist, feminazi. But they will never understand her. And now she didn’t really care to explain herself anymore. She never understand why she was stopped from doing something. When she asked, they replied “because you are a girl”. She always stopped to question “why” and the answers that she usually got were far from satisfactory. 

She played in the sand pit, oblivious of the gazes. Her mother shouted “sit properly”. “Why, mother?”, She asked innocently. Mom answered, “because you are a girl”.

She wanted to pursue her dreams, be a doctor. Apparently her brother’s dream we’re bigger than her. She questioned again “but why?”. Father didn’t answer but she understood it was because she was a girl. Boys looked her up and down, and she didn’t look back. The reason, she knew. She didn’t have to ask. Thee answer was that she was a girl.

People thought it’s complicated, the rules of feminism. But you know what? There are not many. There is just one, ” to make her own decisions without anybody passing jugdement on her”. Not “allowing” or “letting” her do what she wants but understanding that it is her right as a human being to do that. And till the time we understand it, it’s alright to be a little disobedient every now and then, because she is a girl. 

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I am participating in writetribe  problogger challenge. 


With Bated Breath and Whispering Humblenes…

Their chats, if we’re to go public, would create a rucus he said. 

“What do u mean” she asked with a fiesty emoticon. 

“I mean in a good way… Ofcourse.. “, he typed something, deleted and typed again “Should we meet?” 

But no emoticon or words could translate into magic when they flashed on her monitor. She hardly knew him. Three months, is it enough to understand someone and their intentions? Probably not. 

“Hmm… ” The screen said typing for a while. While she tried to choose the right words. He shifted in his chair waiting for the words, which meant so much to him. He wanted to tell her how he saved their conversation and stole time from his busy schedule and reread. There had been months and she hadn’t greed to meet him yet. He typed “brb”.. and left the screen to give her some time to listen to her thoughts. He went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of green tea. By the time, he got back the screen still read “typing”. 

Her took a sip from his cup.  To transfer the magic through the screen, he needed a plan. And decided to give her something interesting to think about.

“Okay! M back. Waiting with bated breath and whispering humbleness… I still await.” He typed with a smile, hoping she knew what he was talking about.

“Ah! Shakespeare! That’s how it all started. Right. Do you remember?”

“How can I forget? Rose?”. He chuckled. She typed “lol”. And remembered how the first time they chatted, her Id was Rose_15. And when she asked him what his name was, he answered “what’s in a name?”. She knew he was special, after all, how many men of this era can talk Shakespearean? 

She finally wrote,”aye!

He couldn’t be happier,

”supercalifragilisticexpialidocious and I don’t care for once if the spelling is right or wrong”, they could hear each other’s laughter. 

And he rehearsed what he had been rehearsing for last 30 days..

I will live in the heart, die in the lap.


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 I am taking part in write tribe problogger challenge. 

A Red Rose




“…haan?” And she again heard a voice calling her name. But as always there was no one. She questioned herself “Am I going insane?”. Her breathing resonated amidst silence. A sigh escaped her lungs and an echo returned with a fragrance, a distinct fragrance, a familiar fragrance. The fragrance which she has breathed before. She definitely knew that fragrant voice. She could sense a pain in that voice which reminded her of someone- just like the scar reminds of the wound. The voice that haunts her in her solitude, like the shadow of her body. She remembered what Saumya has once told her, “If you hear a voice calling out your name and there is no one around, then someone is missing you.”

Saumya was her soul mate. They were like alter ego of each other, a mirror image of each other. When she got separated from Saumya, initially, she never allowed herself to think about her. But a few months later after the fateful day, she started feeding her nostalgia by going to the places where they used to go together, reading her slam book, reading the e-mails which Saumya had sent to her. Now after 5 years she is trying to forget her. She reminisced her first meeting with Saumya. They met in a card shop falling for a friendship day card which both wanted to buy for their friend. Incidentally there was just one piece left, and unhesitatingly Saumya let Ria buy it. The mutual admiration for each other paved the way for their friendship. Later Ria gave the same card to Saumya. With a red rose inside, and a piece of poem “For the fragrance of love you spread around. For the sweetness your tongue’s taste buds hold… for the beauty in your eyes… you personify Real Red Rose”! And that was the first time that Saumya learned that Ria composes poetry. After that, as the rose dried their friendship blossomed. One day all this came to an end, an abrupt, heart wrenching end. And trying not to think about Saumya, Ria scribbled something…it’s half past1… Saumya, I don’t miss you. And laughing at the irony of this sentence, she kept her diary under her pillow and closed her wet eyes to sleep.

#writebravely #WriteTribeProBlogger I’m participating in writetribe challenge.

Featured Image Courtesy : Pixabay

Her Eyes


When I met her first
I saw her eyes….
So calm & tender.
Innocence residing on pupil,
and Congeniality on lashes.
Sparkling with a dream
the world could stop on its single wink.
Soothing when they fix on u,
and lovable when they look away,
hard to believe such eyes exist…

I met her yesterday,
and saw those eyes again….
So deep & melancholic.
Now, fear residing on pupil,
and vulnerability on lashes.
Helpless, like a bird without any wings.
Shunning the world with a frequent blink.
Moving away soon as they catch on you,
and pitiable as they look away.
Hard to imagine what made her change that way…

I met her again
and saw the  eyes…
devoid of any residue of pain,
so confident but cautious.
Now, hope residing on pupil,
and tenacity on lashes.
Brightening like sun
now nothing can stop her…
Neither an order nor any whim.
Penetrating as they fix on you,
and mysterious while they look away.
O! Why she had to change anyway…

#writebravely #WriteTribeProBlogger

I’m aking part in the Write Tribe Problogger Challenge. And today’s theme is Nostalgic.


Kaleidoscopic dreams

kaleidoscope-2688923_960_720Her hazel eyes close, she asks her mother to be with her in her dreams. “I feel safe when you are there, Ma”, Dia looks at her mom, as mother lovingly tucks her in the bed. “Yes, I’m always there”, she always says. Yet Dia never finds her mother in her dreams. Mother sings her favorite lullaby, and she drifts to sleep. Tonight she is inside a glass door- a humongous door. She can hear her mother singing on the other side of the door. “Ma!”, she cries. “Come honey!”, mom replies in her mellifluous voice. And the door opens smoothly. She steps inside, carefully, as if she has been there earlier. She sees her reflection everywhere. The walls, the ceiling, everything is made of mirrors. Thousands of her reflection- all looking the same, yet different. She doesn’t like what she sees. All having the same ‘lost’ look on their faces, yet something is different. In one of them she is wearing her favorite pink dress, in the other she is holding her doll. Then there is one reflection which has a scar on her palm. She is scared, she doesn’t look herself in the eyes. The reflections shift suddenly, slowly they shatter one by one, right before her eyes. Myriad of colors emitting from them are captured by a rainbow, which finds its way inside her eyes. She slowly takes a few steps back, and then starts to run on the other side, door she has come from has disappeared. But a labyrinth awaits her. She knows her mother waits for her, somewhere around the next corner. And she resumes her journey again, with a rainbow in her eyes.

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I am taking part in The Write Tribe Problogger October 2017 Blogging Challenge   


A Couple of Micro-Fiction

The Colors of rainbow…

Smiling, Anjali took out her box of crayons and colored the rainbow drawn on a yellow paper. The rainbow was made of myriad of colors, “there are more colors in rainbow than there are stars in the universe” she enthusiastically tells her teacher. The teacher smiles halfheartedly. She feels sorry for an eighteen years old talking like this. Anjali smiles back, feeling sorry for everybody, for they couldn’t see the world the way she could.

Continue reading “A Couple of Micro-Fiction”

Trails of the Past

“If only I could go back to who I was”, she thought, looking at the steps behind in the sand. Something made her stop, she stepped on an oyster. As she bent down to pick, she got inundated by the memories. 
Two years ago, Kabir took her for a romantic picnic at the beach on a moonlit night. They were sitting on a rock when he began to play with the waves and after a minute, exclaimed “Oh! Look what I found”. It was an oyster.  “There could be a pearl inside, who knows?” , he said with a mischievous smile. She smiled back and opened the shells. “O my god! There really is something glittery inside. Hey! It’s a ring” she said. “How did it get in there?” She looked at him, he was smiling and then it struck her, it’s a proposal. She screamed ” Oh my god! Yes yes! A thousand times yes”. He laughed “Let me ask first”.
She came back from her reverie. Since then a lot had changed.  She didn’t feel like the same person that she used to be. She sat down and tried to find the trail of the past. 
She inhaled as deep as she could. She didn’t know what to feel, numbness struck again. “Why was it so difficult?”, She asked herself. She didn’t have the answer. The thousands of questions and not one acceptable answer.  She didn’t need him, then why did she care if he wasn’t there. Was the complication worth anything? Was it worth all the pain and misery. How did she land here, again? She wanted to blame him, the circumstances, the past, the reality. But she knew it wasn’t true- what was the truth then? She reminded herself, “right and wrong were muddy.. But who was she fooling- it was clear, crystal clear. She knew, she should have stopped while she could. Now there was no looking back. Or so she thought. Did she really care? She did and didn’t. 
The complication didn’t arise from nowhere. She had allowed it, or welcomed it with open arms. She created it. Why was the forbidden fruit always so tempting? The answer lied in history. She was too tired to look back and trace it’s trail. “Let it be”, she left it on fate, on destiny- something she never believed in. But now, it felt convenient- to leave it to fate for a while and do nothing. She let the oyster fall. She didn’t look back to see whether the sand engulfed it or eschewed it. 

Thank You for Helping me Grow…

A good teacher inspires us and motivates us to do our best. They don’t judge or label us. They are true inspiration. There couldn’t have been a better day for my son to debut in the blogworld (Ahem Ahem! May be mother’s day would have been a good day too. But hey! I’m not complaining. Whatever gets his boat sailing).

He says, “I’ve fond memories of my Sr. KG class teacher Ms Shruti Mishra. She had been a great teacher in my elementary school and I believe she helped in shaping me into the person I am today. She always seemed to me like ‘a mother’ in school, taking care of us, always telling us right from wrong, helping us understand our subjects. She had a great influence on our development as individuals. The best thing about her was that she never played favorites, and never labeled us ‘naughty’ or ‘bad’ for our behaviors. She always tried to understand the reason and helped us to become a better person. She sparked the curiosity in us, always encouraged us to ask questions and she would satisfy our curiosity with answers. She always valued the teamwork, yet created a healthy, competitive environment.

For four years, I was in the same school where she taught, but now that I’m in a new school, I miss her more. Teachers in new school are great too. I am obliged to all my teachers for teaching me and helping me grow. They all have played an integral part in my growth. One of the things I cherish the most is the bond that I have with my teachers.”

I know that he misses his school and teachers. One of the most important lessons I learned after my child left his previous school was that, teaching is not just a job. But a role which helps the students to reach their full potential. That’s why teachers do whatever it takes to build a healthy environment and nurture the kids in the best possible manner (Especially in the primary school). I see a paradigm shift in teacher’s role now, as the education system is more student-centric. Educators are more responsible, more hardworking. Teachers have transformed into role-model and students can derive developmental inspiration from them. Definitely a great time to be a student and a teacher. Thank you teachers, you make us who we are.

Today a Reader, Tomorrow a Leader- How to Make Kids Read.

I am an avid reader. I read anything that I lay my hands on- fiction, non-fiction, sci-fi, thriller, biographies, medicine strip, even ketchup bottle. I am happy to read anything written in the language that I understand. In my college years, I tried to study Egyptian hieroglyph too. But better sense prevailed, after all how many books can one find on Egyptian hieroglyph? I married a muggle and after years of training, I managed to finally get him to read. Now, though my son has found interest in books, I am still committed to see that books become his best friends forever.
Here are some tips for you to try-
1: Start early: When he was tiny little baby, I started reading to him. Not the old-fashioned fairy tales but a page or two from any book in my hand at that time. Important aspect of this exercise was- reading with expressions, animated face and use vocal variety for different characters. This kept him intrigued. He is 8 years old now, and mostly reads on his own. But sometimes, we still have fun by playing different characters.
2: Buy the age-appropriate books- A 5 year old can only read basic level 1- “I can read” type series, which focuses on repetition of easy words. I used to read one line and then encourage him to read the next line, while pointing the words. Don’t get too ambitious; a time will come when he will finish the bulky books, for now let him set the pace.
3: Introduce real world: I know kids love to read about the prince and the princess, gnomes and ogres. But every now and then introduce kids to real people who rose above all odds, who did the unthinkable and chose the road less traveled to make their own path. Like- Anne Frank will show them life of a girl, and also educate them about world war 2. Hellen Kellar’s biography will teach them how despite the physical limitations, she pursued knowledge and succeeded.
4: It’s important to understand the interest of the kid too- Some kids love to read mythology, others like Panchtantra and some others like Geronimo Stilton. Let them finish one series and then gradually channel their interest towards other advanced books. If they show interest in the universe and space, get them simple books about constellations or stars. As they grow, Stephan Hopkins and ‘Big-bang’ will come to them naturally. Our job is to ignite that hunger- to read.
5: Join library- kids tend to take the things easily available, for granted. When always bought, books may also be subject to the same risk. Library is like treasure box- it not only gives access to wide collection, various topics and generes, but also let them chose the book they want. Library also builds discipline to finish a book quickly, it lures to come again if one picks any series. We were hung up with a fun series called ‘Mr Men and Little Miss’ by Roger & Adam Hargreaves, which made us visit the library every alternate day.
6: Another trick that works wonders with my son is first encourage him to read a book, and later watch the movie based on the story. These days he is binging Harry Potter. As he finishes one book- he is rewarded with a movie night. We make popcorn and watch the movie. To add more fun, he invited his friends to watch ‘Harry Potter’ with pizza, popcorn and juice. This can be done with other popular books like Lord of the rings, Chronicles of Narnia etc, suiting the kids age.
7: Now that he can read the books meant for older audience, I read the same book as he does. I see his excitement when we discuss the scenes and characters. Sometimes when we read on kindle, I make use of the note feature to leave notes for him at interesting places, or to explain new words. Now, even he leaves notes for me 🙂
These are my tips to get your kid to open book. Do share your tips. Thanks for reading.
#readingtips #readtolearn

Let’s Be Her Umbrella…

Recently watched a catchy music video- Shameless by Prajakta koli aka mostlysane. It’s been playing in mind, in loop, ever-since I heard it. More than the music, I love the message that it gives- ‘Let’s be SHAMELESS’. When somebody tries to shame you, or embarrass you. Don’t let it affect you. Tell yourself, that only you know how to raise your kids, only you know how much you love your kids.

There is nobody who knows it better than us, the mothers. We are judged, from the moment we are expected to become a mother. Till we actually get the mother title, people could be judging us, but not on our face. But argh! As we get the birth certificate of our kids in our hands, seemingly everyone around us also gets the license to be judgmental. Everything we do or not do, is judged. Be ready to be constantly judged by every human being on the planet.

“Look the way she is holding the baby”

“The baby’s finger nails are not trimmed”

“The baby is sooo thin, she is so fat. She doesn’t feed her baby properly.”

I mean, I can go on and on and on. You dunno why the mother is making the kid wear pants in the summer, and she herself is wearing shorts. Maybe because she wants to protect the kid’s sensitive skin. May be she wants to minimize the damage, when he falls. So Baby is not wearing a jacket, and it’s cold and windy. May be the mother tried hard, but the kid wouldn’t relent. Or maybe the kid just took it off. The baby’s nails are not trimmed? Guess what, the baby would not allow her to cut them when he is awake, and when she tried a million times to cut when the baby was asleep, he would move his hands all the time. “The baby’s ears are dirty” – she just cleaned them for all you know- that’s not dirt, that’s just cradle-cap falling off his ears. Let’s not judge her when she doesn’t run when her baby falls. May be she is teaching the kid to get up on her own, dust herself up and walk again.

“She is wearing shorts, she is mom, or has 10 year old kid.” You know what! Cut her some slack. If you want to tell her something, tell her, “You look cute, or like a teenager”. Let her be the way she wants to be. “She leaves the baby with the nanny”-  her kid, her choice. Let’s support each other. Let’s uplift each other. There is nobody, who knows better than us- what it takes to be a mother, to have a baby.

When she is juggling with her job, her home, her family, her life. Let’s offer a helping hand. On a rainy day if you see a mother with grocery bag, a child tugged in her arms, try not judging her for not bringing the umbrella. Let’s offer to hold her grocery. Or let’s open umbrella for her when she is holding the baby in one hand, her grocery in the other hand, and probably a hundred of other things in her mind. Let’s be her UMBRELLA!

#StopJudging #Shameless # BeHerUmbrella