Identity – and what it is. 

I always wonder if the world we live in, would ever get right, the meaning of identity,

For, it believes each of us is a race horse, trained just the way it wills us to be – 
“Girls your age, are married, in our town,

When, are you, planning to settle down?”
“My sister’s son – he’s done with his master’s, now contemplating his PhD,

If Master’s isn’t what you want, why don’t you go for a Management degree?”
But, hey, being asked to become a stereotype isn’t exactly new, is it?

For, into the mould designed by the society, we’ve always been forced to fit,
We’re only expected to yield to expectations aplenty,

Whether we’re ten, twenty, fifty or seventy,

We’re always told to lead by example, or made to follow one,

We’re forever required to be on par with our friend, sibling, cousin, or the neighbour’s son,
Yet, stand up we must, for what we want, even if it means a journey, alone,

Shut out other perspectives until we discover our own,
Carve our own niche, create our own mould,

Because, to seek our calling, we can never be too old – 
Defy gravity, find our own ground,

What we presumed, lost, will only then be found.
Cheers!✨

Food for thought.

Most often, we come across people who change with time. You find their attitude, their behaviour, their interest in you doesn’t remain constant. 

Sometimes they call themselves your best friend, make you their pity project, ensure they have you by their side when they need you and then, they are gone – when they don’t need you anymore. They don’t respond to your texts, don’t ask you if you’re okay, don’t find the time to get back to you – because they don’t necessarily have anything to do with you. And they’d always expect you to understand their absence. And shamelessly so.

People like these, who call themselves your constants, are in reality, vermins of the worst order who drain all energy, all positivity and everything that you’ve to offer. 

They aren’t your real friends. They aren’t those who’d if not physically, be emotionally there for you when you need them. People like these are spam. Delete them off from your contact list, your friend list, your life. It is time you did. 

I have done. 

Beauty be just skin deep.

What’s with the obsession about how we look? 

I’ve always been puzzled on how to react when people compliment me on how I look (which happens extremely rarely). On the contrary I’ve always wanted to impress people with the work I do. Compliment me on my work, my thoughts, my choices, my deeds, my persona – you’ll find my happy. 

Criticise my looks, make fun about my appearance and you wouldn’t find me giving a damn. But diss my work, you’ll find you’ve rubbed me the wrong way.

Looks seriously cease to matter. What matters ultimately is the kind of person you are, the kind of work you do, and the difference that you make with your existence.
Cheers! ✨💖

Let go.

There are people who enter your lives for a reason, perhaps to teach you an important lesson? They consume your time, your energy, your positivity, then suddenly leave you bereft of it all. You begin to wonder, what went wrong – what is it that you had said or done that has led to this, and try all that you can to figure out, to set the equation back alright, 

Only to go through doom all over again.

Let go. Let go of them. Happily. ‘Cause no one is indispensable. No one is important enough for you to lose your sanity over. Let the efforts be mutual. Only then does it become an equation. 

Flap your wings!

Where is it that you wish to be,

What is it, that in your dreams, you see?

Close your eyes, let your instincts guide thee,

Flap your wings, bring to life your crazy audacity!

A good turn, my way :)

Yesterday, my friend and I got into a share-auto on our way back home from work. Soon afterward, the heavy downpour started and as the auto sped off we were worried about how we’d reach home on time. Since we were the last 2 passengers in the rickshaw, the driver said he’d better head straight home, when he asked him if he could drive us to our destination (we had to take another bus to reach home). Fair enough. But then, as we reached our stop, the downpour became heavier making it impossible for people to walk on the streets without an umbrella or a jerkin – and we had neither. The auto rickshaw driver sensing that offered to drive us to the bus stop (for which he had to take a left from the junction where we had planned to get down and drive a few metres, whilst he had planned to go straight) and we gratefully agreed.

But he didn’t just drop us off at the bus stand and leave yesterday. He was kind enough to let us wait in the auto rickshaw until the bus came (10 minutes later), he ensured both of us got in safely and then left the place. 
That was one good turn our way yesterday. God bless him in abundance ✨😊

Les petites joies de la vie 💖

First day of the week and I’m drenched from head to toe as I return home, and, I’m famished. The dark clouds always definitely are an indication of something good, but getting drenched in the rain is definitely not my cup of tea. I splatter water all around in the house as I make my way towards my room, when an astonishingly familiar aroma hits me. An astonishingly familiar, yet mouth-wateringly delicious aroma. Patience not withstanding, I ask my mom what she’s cooking and she replies, albeit with a bit of hesitation “Rava Kichdi” 
Though I’m more than willing to gulp down anything she gives me, I mock-gag at the name and sneak into my room.
Minutes later, I get to gobble platefuls of hot piping Kichdi generously lathered with the best sambhar on earth. 
This, without a doubt, is the BEST meal I’ve ever had, until date. 

I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world. Anything.
Each has his own favorite rain-food. Masala chai. Moong Dal Ke Pakode. Bhajiyas. This, has to be mine. 💖
Cheers!✨