My nectar is my choice
My choice is my poison
My poison in my body
My body is my right
My right is my truth
My truth is my sanity
My sanity is my power
My power is my struggle
My struggle is my will
My will is my meaning
My meaning is my mind
My mind is my life
My life is my business.


Almost Nowhere

46f79069761ed66f464e670fcfd50fb1_ft_xl There is no greater waste than a revolutionary idea  being discounted for its ability to shake minds and souls to the core.  PK is one exemplary case of ‘intellect-on-sale’ offer by so called coming of age Bollywood. There is no doubt that presentation of the movie was incredulous into keeping the film creative, light and funny. But much to an atheist’s dismay, PK fails to nail the coffin of institutionalized religion with a sensible, sincere and most importantly, a courageous response to the apparently argument between faith and reason. In its little ways, the movie managed to bring about the idea of ‘Godless individuality’ out in the open but missed highly into stirring the societies we live in by asking bold and honest questions around –

  1.  The quest to understand why atheism is considered a taboo or a depressed psychology rather than a reasonable,  creative and constructive approach towards life.
  2.  The validity of the scale we use to measure the richness of a life in present against the promising but unknown eternal redemption.
  3.  The weight in the proposition that man, even after centuries of evolution, is still a wild, raw animal to the core who just happens to possess a genius brain.
  4.  The evidence that free will, every organized or non-organized religion stands on, is an illusion.
  5.  And above all that absolution, we, miserably loyal victims of ‘meaning’ chase throughout life, is a curse and not a blessing.

What a shame that reason, tallest of all the faculties, still has to walk through the petty ordeals over superstitious and fictional realms. It should be overwhelming for anyone to figure out that God is not just a standalone figure but a comprehensive system carved by mankind in time and space to define the way we live. We identify with this system as religion in order to adopt and adapt accordingly. Debates stamping the religions with disgust for only serving ulterior motives and not for defying common sense, is alluring only to a halfwit. Some socially weird animals including me, are always interested in pushing the idea a little further. A disconnect with religion, ideally and immediately calls for a quest to define either a substitute or an arrangement that works likewise but stays compatible to our knowledge and understanding of not only God but our understanding of God as well. And the process to figure out such system is taxing to psychological health of any individual and rightfully so. Until, one honestly commits himself to investigate God for its existence without compromising over psychological benefits of its essence, one can never expect to revolutionize the change we wish to see by disconnecting mankind only with religion and not any further. Thus the position where one is distanced from religion yet claims to be in better proximity of God, is only a temporary provision.

It is pity to observe that readily available spiritual maneuvering and growing intellectual bankruptcy has almost destroyed the curiosity quotient, man was born blessed with. The larger skeptic community out there today is more concerned about the truth that is well synchronized to the needs of the followers of truth. And there is only one theory that communicates with him in the same language. The theory of causality, the spinning wheel that sets off every universal force, physical or psychological in nature. Although the film does initiate the dialogue as a fresh beginning, the ‘Almost Nowhere’ journey of PK could have been much more if it took a reasonable stand for PK and his alien godless clan’s functionality by giving evidence of their sound emotional, spiritual and physical strengths to connect with even exotic creatures. It was an in-between, incomplete proposition that didn’t walk the extra mile to find answers around God as an identity than God as a utility, which could have been far more revealing. Its high time we rise ourselves and question the institution of not just religion but the institution we know as God, as well. After all what is there to create if God made it all?

My Little Indiblogger-Meet Experience


I am an introvert, so you can be sure I am better at words for paper than people and so it’s my obligation to reciprocate the excitement brought on at the event with depths of experiences as a thanksgiving gesture. You may think what was an introvert doing at an exciting, chaotic event full of non-sensical sense. Simple! so she can add a new dimension to her very limited space of people and passions.

That’s what clubs, social events and networks do. They create hope for weird, crazy guys that they are not alone. That world is full of weirder souls and should be full of madness and chaos to survive ageing us.

My experience of attending first ever Indiblogger meet began as day-dreaming possibilities of how social clubs of bloggers and writers may connect. Would I be able to identify faces who I until now knew as words and will there be someone who would come to me and say “Hey! I like your blog, lets work together to create better” and so on. I understand, it is a little too much to ask but then what’s wrong with wishful thinking. However, I am glad for I spending the day wisely.

Every journey begins with taking little steps and so did mine. Little is the word that works precisely enough to describe my experience. Little is enough for me to start, to keep inspired and stay happily motivated. I guess that’s how Indiblogger was born.

As a reader you should be able to comprehend my excitement when I tell you that despite being a foodie, I did not take on the tempting lunch organized by Indiblogger. I was thick with fantasies so I didn’t feel like eating. Too eager for the event to start.

And there was my first ever Indiblogger Meet

As a warming up exercise, all of us were required to click maximum selfies with fellow bloggers to win a merchandise and it not-so-gently broke up ice in the room boiling with anticipations 😉  It wasn’t enough to make me jump out of chair, still I participated. Well, I am an introvert remember! Some guy made it 22 emotionally beating the runner up when he lost by 4 selfies. So where is the fun part? For others, it was in clicking selfies, for me it was in twitter posts where they blasted their emotions. Mr 22 and Mr 18 became permanent enemies when loser had its sweet-anger poured over twitter asking the champion to get out of the room. That was pure fun for me! 🙂

Next, we were asked to design the cheapest world-travel route using Skyscanner, a web application that helps travelers finding ideal destinations under ideal expenses. The application with the exciting features was quick to download. And so we took on the challenge with exotic locations presented as funny clues. While we were all lost hard in winning, I couldn’t stop thinking about how excellently Skyscanner and Indiblogger came up with the strategy to promote their products and that was the best-instant use of social media I have ever seen. Skyscanner was successful in ensuring  the crowds download the mobile version, learn it, use and keep using it. Indiblogger engaged the spirits as they spilled over their passions through blogging because rewards were freaking pure lust, air tickets for passionate travellers. Travel was the high theme of the event and rightfully so! I am sure, the strategy would work wonderfully for Skyscanner in making more followers.

High tea was perfectly blended with creamy delicacies and strong flavors to get-set-go the passionate travelers share their unique travel experiences.  One could easily sense their gestures and voices spoke pure meditation. This is what travel is about, transcending people, places and us to get closer in a real sense.

Let’s see what I took home –

1. I learnt a new word  – ‘Selfie’. Embarrassing it may sound but for an old not- at-all techno-geek, it was a nice way to get introduced.

2. I learnt how events and social media can get as instant and as real into connecting and benefiting communities.

3. I realized how judgemental-us can rise above the walls we create for selves and scout opportunities that may come as new people or newer us.

4. I met with wonderful people with whom I look forward for possible endeavors.

5. I got a T-Shirt and back-pack bag by Skyscanner. Only if I could actually get it, I wrongly took the right size home which unfairly fit my husband and he just cannot stop teasing me for the new shirt 😉

6. I took home a content, happy and quiet girl who may be has found place for meeting the right sort of people who value what they believe, create and inspire.

I am thankful to Indiblogger and Skyscanner for inspiring a dull, boring, introvert soul taking little steps to big worlds of writing and blogging.

By the way, that little girl to your right in black is me!

Lost in the World

Lost in books

I find us between the lines

You nod with me

For the world we see

In time on paper

Our marks are carved

Words lay yellow

But silence bleeds red

Lost on my walk

I feel us in rhymes

In timeless melodies

There we were

In magical strings

Here we are

We gave ways

To their celebrations

In their pain

They sang our passions

Lost in movies

I find us in stories

In vulnerable shades

There we hurt

In freedom battles

Here we forgive

With our imagination

They paint the globe

With our aspirations

They know the unknown

Lost in world

I find us in sisters & brothers

Bonded in blood

Spaces away from each other

In silly fights

There we were

In troubling times

Here we are

In ruthless jobs

They note my fall

In divine quests

You see my soul

Lost I am

For I am you

I wander with winds

They may take me to you




An Atheist in Making

“The worst moment for an atheist is when he is finally thankful and has no body to thank for” – Dante Gabriel Rossetti

I am not a legacy person, never will be. Legacies fail me always. For one more time, I am losing in bits and pieces perhaps the biggest legacy one acquires over the life time. Legacy of faith, belief and meaning or better put together, God. Awakening is usually a high feeling, an ecstasy pill but the journey from believing to not believing is filled with overwhelming depressive sights and no intellectually tempting signs or curves are good enough for a loner amidst a tricky maze who has almost decided that there is no ultimate destination he should be seeking in the first place. As it happens, rarely though, that we find something unique and fundamental about ourselves and when we do, we owe it to us to rediscover the discovery for its consistency and validity.The magic gets twice the charm if one discovers it on his own, first hand and not under any influentially rich or divine literature. I am glad for experiencing a definitive transformation as I interrogate my existence as an individual in a natural realm, nothing more nothing less.

Lately, I have come  to realize that valency of my or anyone else’s conscious, unconscious actions, motivated, repelled or liberated from any value-system, does not equate with any defined code written in religious or social philosophies. By philosophies I particularly mean ‘Moksha’ and by ‘we’ I incidentally mean me. There is no system governed by any spiritual or divine being who is there to maintain records of humanity-gone-wild and consequentially, there is no entity we know as God. It’s only causality that makes the world go round. This is a note from a real person who in her sound mind, health and spirit is seeking a non-epistemological, non-scientific but radically experiential view that God does not exist other than as a comfort.

  It begins with memories of time when I was raw and real than I would ever be. I whole heartedly deny that we create memories consciously, it is however memories that go on to define us. I remember reading a very interesting quotation in the newspaper long ago. I think it was by Plato. I was in our modestly put drawing room, sitting on a dying sofa facing the fading pink walls to feel the impact , ‘stimulating’,  I said and it read -“He must be a wise man who invented God”. I was just enough grown up to give benefit of doubt to the idea of godless individuality. Memories from playful childhood and tough teenage years are still all over the place and there I am, a young soul between old chaps, caught up in a group of grandparents of our neighborhood who would gather at night after dinner, reading sacred quotes from Bhagwadgeeta to them. I remember doing it quite often. I agree it is not usual for a teenager to extend intellectual wisdom to old as an act of charity. Ordinary I was but I guess weird too! One lazy summer afternoon, I reached home with heavy load of books and found ‘Sampoorna Mahabharata’, one of the credits of well-defined CBSE education for eighth graders. I finished it off in a couple of hours like a child wanting to finish the story leaving behind morals to follow him in future. I think it was the beginning that set me on the course to the concept of ideal and absolute and I bought it pretty well. It is funny to think that there was an innocent me in time, scared of ‘Hanuman’ getting mad over me for ignoring him while singing bhajans for other deities at the local temple, which was just because all throughout until very recently, ‘Krishna’ was my favorite. Also that they literally fry evil people in hell which further reminds me how well guarded I was by my value system into not hurting or cheating people. I would vividly imagine of standing in front of a divine being reading my Karma log book in front of people who I cheated or lied to, asking me to provide explanation in front of them. 🙂

 I anyway ended up in hurting and lying to many people throughout. If any of this at all is true, I am in trouble already!

My memories serve me well in connecting the dots between how layers of conditioning shaped my value system and how experiences both worldly & intellectual, are coming to derange it. I owe it to myself to contemplate over the fundamentals lying beneath this change. This post is a way to document the transition. It may come in handy you never know! What I know is, I believe in sudden transformations, definitive incidences where individual’s dormant identity gets revived by an unexpected event altering his entire line of ideology. (Actually the alteration begins way before we know it. An event is just a boiling point where conventional wisdom melts and parallel, alternative ideologies culminate and take over). It is a proof that conditioning is inferior to the inherent ‘Id’ (as Sigmund Freud portrays) and just another reflection into how humans are vulnerable to find meaning in almost every event they go through in life. It is surprisingly extreme when that individual happens to be a Hindu for whom the theory of ‘Karma and Moksha’ is written all across his deliverables like a holy anthem. So, I have some serious concerns about how my past around this theory, conveniently shaped my thoughts and actions and how important is it for me to contain the collateral damage as soon as possible. This is just where scope of my development lies as it makes me wonder, why we do not seek truth or more importantly sense in Karma or Moksha before blindly accepting it as the sole answer to human’s destiny. These concerns can’t be ignored easily and it is high time when I should be consciously looking for the genesis of this transformation.

We all understand God not for its nature but for the infinite fear or excitement in what he represents. Moksha or Karma is one of the reasons, God is treated as ‘God’ in India. For us there is no difference between the two.

                                                                         Chicken or Egg?

The quotation I mentioned before serves as a philosophical problem of innumerable implications. Who invented whom? Human invented God or God invented him? Let me be more brutal, human defines meaning or meaning defines him? The battleground for this universal debate will unfairly continue to exist independently of the outcome, CERN’s ‘God’s Particle’ claims to solve. Any explanation aimed at solving cosmic puzzle for the sake of atheism, will never satisfy individual’s thirst for meaning which by inference takes meaning to even higher level than God himself. After all, if God created man or the entire universe to mean something, then by inference, meaning should be the reason for God’s own existence. The ‘meaning’ thus elevates the spiritual periphery further to the top spot in the sacred hierarchy.

And there begins the gradual but dramatic collapse of my institutionalized individuality. Why I believed in God in first place, well the answer is simple. I didn’t have a choice. It was a legacy gifted to me so I make something novel out of this installment of birth. Layers of rituals and traditions set outright since life begins in a womb till washed away in Ganges, delicately penetrate the idea of  afterlife and re-birth deep inside us to be our fundamental worries and concerns and I was no exception. (If you think either of your parents or on-the-way mentors introduced the idea of God like a one-on-one counseling session, you are underestimating the depth of conditioning). Institutions, formal or informal played their roles handsomely to craft an ideal human out of a man who in absence of this faculty is a loose cannon, dedicated to destroy himself. In a nutshell, a moral code was cultivated to ensure that mission human-life is accomplished.

So we see there, how religion cunningly established a direct and intense connect between morality and God. Thereby implying Moksha as a guarantee to our elevation to the supreme. Well, I am no expert of any religion but I have tried to understand its hypothesis with a reasonable level of intelligence and I have some real questions that were never answered. “Why I should believe in God?” or “How the idea of God serves my individual instincts?” If you naively think that believing in God makes us or for that matter me, a morally superior being, state of our nation or that of the world is a living testimony that morality has nothing to do with religion and they can function independently of each other. In fact, in that scenario, their synergy is exemplary!

My speciousness towards Moksha stems from the restriction it implies over my ability to think, feel, behave and deliver as a human but not being humanly at the same time. I am a young adult and my experiences obviously are younger but there is a strange clause with Moksha that never allows me to age with experiences. Moksha is the philosophy of true realization and liberation that comes from self-consciousness. But the slope gets real slippery here. How should I see ‘self’? Find ‘self to find God’ is a way too protective notion. If ‘self’ is already elaborated in the balance books up there then I am by inference, denying the existence of other variations in the equation. How judgement for example does not influence my actions or in-actions. Fear or excitement, it seems, become the only constants in the equation of life manipulating the truth and how does that not disturb the process of true realization? Liberation pursued under a command in itself is an oxymoron.

But what if one consciously does not believe in God as a deity? God serving others as a written code with no shape, no form but still a divine force who created all, is a trickier proposition. This God is an abstract whose existence depends on how one decodes the message. In short, we define him and not the vice-versa. But why? Why God at all?

Ever heard of Dusk Meer’s struggle about chasing a fragrance all through and its ignorance that it itself is it.

What makes God so real is human’s innate inability to fathom the terrifying idea that his existence is mortal, temporary and will vanish one day. That, whether he likes it or not he is the most intellectual being in the universe and there is no mentor he can seek to evolve further. By inventing ‘afterlife’ he is merely satisfying his fantasy where he still exists, as a dust or some spiritual element doesn’t matter as long as he is alive. It is a pity indeed to be a giver all the time, to remain a professor all this while who is desperate to become a student for once, desperate to find a closure with a valid report card that he has done well, finally. He has evolved from a natural man into a super-man. He has become God.

Unless, if God re-emerges in the debate as a magical creature with infinite powers.This is where almost all give up their argument in favor of an imagination. Beneath the magic lies the idea of a power that can play with nature’s rules at ease of will. Believing in magic is like surrendering to a rationally confused psyche that is creative but does not care enough to provide the very answer around the ‘non-sense’ in the concept of redemption.

Individual experiences across the world reveal terrifying tales of people who have experienced evil and thus God in-directly. I am a novice here and certainly not a snob who is committed to defame God but this imagination benefits me in exploring one absurd fantasy. What if ‘God’ is evil? Powerful, merciful, supreme but evil. To deduce the equation to one constant i.e. evil, we eliminate the natural attributes mankind is blessed with; honesty, goodness and kindness. So we end up identifying God through our natural attributes. But mankind nature’s is a grey package. Greed and corruption are written below the ‘conditions apply’ section. So why we never put these labels across God? I guess, we seek our evolution in a noble, supreme God because evil is not seen noble in a conventional retrospective setting of values.

‘Super-natural God’ as an inspiration for man, is a bottomless pit where we can never transcend our natural instincts to accomplish a fantasy super-natural man. Natural means entities defined by the law of nature where limitations are essential for his survival.

How ‘magical’ expects ‘natural’ to travel a journey that God himself covered under magical powers. No matter how deep one digs, it only gets confusing further and farther. Ever heard of a God without magical powers. Never! Imagine if mankind had one God that didn’t have magical attributes. How our lineage and heritage would have shaped?!

I do not believe in superstitious rituals or evil but it does not mean I am not afraid of possibilities of its existence. Hell I am! Which brings me back to human’s love for fear of God. ‘What one does not know is what he fears the most’ fits right as yet another definition of him. While science was yet to empower human with reasons and not miracles, mankind had already invented God. God became the only refuge to surrender his existence, a survival kit he carried for generations. The gap between discovery of God and science is a giant leap we are yet to cover. Fear or excitement towards a possible afterlife, is too tempting to de-condition God’s influence.

Struggle of a new born atheist!

Well as far as fear is concerned, I am human and my instincts make me cautious for threat and pain equally as for truth and ecstasy, not as much as, in fact way less. Torn by a constant tug-of-war between what I have believed all life and what I am coming to understand crystal clear, is a difficult spot to be in. A long stay in a no man’s land is not only depressing but also taking away my constructive nature to build a new perspective of life. God still exists in my habits, conversations, opinions, even fantasies. I still fear dark spaces. I have never said it to God’s face that I am an atheist or dared him to prove his existence. Like I said, I am a poor bird who has been set free but is scared of flying into woods.

Of all the atheists across the world, struggle for a Hindu atheist is way more savaging and holistic. Asking a hindu to delete God from his life is like asking him to become invisible. Deleting God means to emerge out naked from layers of culture wrapped around his personality.

The real challenge here is how to pursue the journey being an atheist. Surviving a godless journey means dis-connect from purpose, peace and accomplishment, obviously intellectual. No purpose means a dis-interest in life’s higher ambitions, no records, no end-point, no destination, no road leading nowhere, in short a sucking life. A depressing journey.

Can I survive a journey that has no meaningful end? I think I can and I must. On to atheism, my individuality is a loyal companion and it doesn’t leave when it pours. It emerges even stronger as a guide to help me not only survive human life but also live it well too. It didn’t catch me off-guard but social implications of being an atheist are way more helpful in raising my bars. This  turn-around from God also took me more close to the fact that Karma is not at a religious or spiritual philosophy but the genesis of the causal-cycle. It is the basic drive that runs the universe. It is the deduced meaning and ruthless acceptance of religious fables around this brilliant concept that destroys its true integrity. Being an atheist allows me to take responsibility of my actions and see things for what they are and not accept them over the face value of Karma. Although my disgust with the theory began much early  as I kept observing families, friends and neighbors’ extreme addiction to relate success, failure, gains and loss with how they performed in previous birth, it became permanent all along while my work took me to visit vulnerable regions of India and interview people for their share of sadness and plight. While they were right in blaming government for its failure to listen their stories, Karma usually appeared as the end title.

It is like the umbilical cord between afterlife and this birth is never cut-off for an Indian.

So, here I am, an atheist in making, searching for a way forward and I see there is a scope to evolve further even while I remain divorced from God.

I know atheism will test me for if my awakening is delusional or enveloped around a loss that could have been spared. I hope it does! In any case I will be at benefit as it will only bring me closer to real me.

The only consolation in taking God back into my life will be a blessing in disguise. I will  know that Ishaan is  up there in good hands and I will see him someday.

Note: This is a personal perspective towards atheism and does not intend to hurt feelings of those who believe in God in any way.

‘The Room’ in Kafka’s Stories; Ishaan Lived There

“The idea is to die young as late as possible. ” 

Some people are blessed to bluntly refuse accepting non-sense from social monkeys. Their novelty is too sacred to be contaminated with such disasters.

I was reminded of the fact yet again by Kafka’s The Metamorphosis. Other than being a popular masterpiece, the book is unique in reflecting upon how walls can preserve sanity of someone exposed to systematic trauma of a prudent, confused and way much occupied society. (The Metamorphosis is about sudden and literal transformation of human form into a giant insect and how he and his family survives it). Metamorphosis leads Gregor Samsa (the protagonist) through a laborious process of surviving do-ability of human conscience locked in the body of  an insect, fixating him intellectually. As Gregor’s confinement-misery consistently falls short to ever pending petty jobs of a family obsessed with the idea of fiscal prosperity, his transformation suffers an oversight throughout and I became interested in finding about how he gains endurance and resilience at any point if at all.

As soon as I finished first few pages, the book began to make sense. However, it is painful and ironical about the time I read The Metamorphosis. 

The Room, a central figure reappearing in Kafka’s novels, is a place for people who are alone but not lonely.

I know as I saw someone living in that room. My brother, Ishaan.

A gifted writer and aspiring theatre artist, Ishaan built his ivory tower in the same room. Compulsions from family, friends and society to never reach him, he immunized his genius through these walls. Two sides of the walls; two different personas of Ishaan and we hardly got to know either one.

 The Room’s interiors were neat, organized and chaotic as they attempt to contain ever-expansive and ideal worlds of arts, literature, sports, music and abstract. Books and lots of books that will take years to grow up with, movie-collection that will scratch you to the farthest of believable illusions of your world, curiosity and challenging semantics gave Ishaan his share of peace and wonder. Drama, humor, comedy, philosophy, auto-biographies of Tagore, Chaplin, Hitler and Tolstoy were precious gems and he often cited quotes and instances for me.

What’s common between the two room-mates is misfortune in form of the confinement born out of the need for desperate escape from mechanical and creatively rotten orientation towards life. Imagining plight of a creative soul burdened with conservative ideologies of leading a life, is not difficult. We face it quite often but not to the point that drives us to confinement as it did to Ishaan. Past, present and future of Ishaan’s life were rooted deep into his room. Like Gregor’s, Ishaan’s family except his sisters, was oblivious to the frustration their son faced almost always by being born for intellectual pleasures of life and not monetary.

 Locked and on-watch all the time, room is all alone as his master lives no more. He died on 8 November last year after struggling with renal failure for a year. Tormented by his memories, his family recently vacated the house and his soul, books. As we were vacating, we saw Ishaan’s favorite quotation hidden below the wallpapers:

“Status for absolution shall be prioritized to death over life, curiosity and chaos.” 

It’s like he knew his time will be up soon.

It was Ishaan who introduced Kafka to me years before, if only I knew he will introduce my brother back to me. A brother who deserved to be understood more, supported more and above all to be alive more.

Lesson in the loss.

What’s left is his books, few regrets and life-long struggle to deal with this huge loss. As painful as it could be for a family to come to terms with death of the only son is crushing. We never knew his e-mail Ids,  Facebook account or for that matter, the fact that he was in the middle of finishing a book. He hated shopping and always kept a low profile with simple clothing and goofy humor. All his lifetime, he asked me for a couple of things including a PlayStation and a bag. I bought it for him. What would you call it other than a cruel and barbaric irony that back in time, I was shopping for a bag that will contain my brother soon to be transformed into ashes and dust. He used to leave from home with the bag over the shoulders and ear phones plugged in. In the end, the same bag carried him (Ishaan’s ashes) to Ganges.

I knew he was brilliant and talented enough to make it some day to mainstream cinema or publishing world. I grew up on the belief or more of a fantasy that people gifted with such remarkably rare talents reach their rightful place sooner or later, are immortal and certainly earn their name long before they say goodbye. Gifts that Ishaan possessed ought to serve a purpose and so I hoped for his D-Day could realize any time soon, so did the others who knew him close and believed he was destined to go places.

And may be this was my mistake, I thought Ishaan like others will lead a grand life. But…

 Unfortunately and very cruelly, I was brought down to a brutal reality that for death, all are equally perishable. To this day, it’s difficult to believe that he is gone and I will never have a single conversation with him again. Although being a non-believer, it became an urge to browse internet for afterlife, heaven and hell to find out if there is any truth in the world beyond ours and if it is, where is Ishaan now?

 Loosing a loved one wounds a soul forever. In a strange way, I loose him everyday as I learn more and more about our mortality as the ultimate truth. As I held his ashes and remains, what I felt was more than a usual sense of touch, a horrible and nerve-wrecking experience that was Ishaan. Life is one big trickster, en-circling creative souls in mechanical routines, it’s crushing,  painful tricks work every time when I realize that my grief isn’t about loosing a brother or loosing the only happiness of my parents, it is much more deeper. It is about loosing a mirror. Like a mentor has lost his precious protege, a writer lost his inspiration or a sage has lost the possibility of a beautiful conversation with a beautiful soul for ever.

But all of it is bearable with the only exception of the fact that Ishaan never got to experience life’s little cherishing episodes. He never fell in love, never went through the pain of a break-up, never felt what’s its like to drink irresponsibly and behave madly. Didn’t travel and explore how sun, moon and stars shine out there. Never laid down on foreign soils and knew how earth smells in exotic places. Didn’t get the chance to explore wilderness of nature. Couldn’t finish his guitar lessons or sang along on long drives. How could time be this unfair to such a decent soul, crushes my hope always when it comes to believe in anything.

The pain of not being able to live the life we want for being stuck in one plane throughout is terrifying and  I have lost the companion who was my inspiration for freedom. And I emerge as a legendary loser when his lively absence makes me feel that a person who was just an ordinary relative to me was closer than whole of the universe and it’s too late to understand him, respect him, adore him. All I can do is miss him and that’s what I do.

Endless calculations of how we could have averted this sadness out of our lives follow me always. What eventually went wrong as I read and continue to read more and more about fatal Sepsis or chronic kidney failure that Ishaan died of? How and where it began? My confused brain tries hard to figure out how to conclude the quantum of fate and chance mechanics. Things just do not seem to add up. Nihilism is more than just a theory and reason is the new perspective that needs to guide the definitions of good or bad.

Death is a part of life. The idea of time as the only real currency never made sense any better.

 All that I learn everyday is that Ishaan is gone!

Ishaan died young quite literally! 

Writing this post and taking it out, feeling exposed and naked in front of people is terrible but sort of compulsive. It works best for someone like me to express what otherwise is suffocating. So is the overwhelming feeling that every time I watch a movie, read a book or write something, I miss him. When I reach home, there is no one to participate in my happiness and excitement or understand my language of intuitive communication I shared with Ishaan. What’s even worse is, peace and accomplishment I derive from writing and uptaking cinematic excellence, is the only way to find myself.

We all have limited time, do not ruin it in doing something you are simply not meant for and more importantly not asking or expecting the same from others. 

Dead Rapist Walking

I am a conscious, independent and liberal woman. I take pride in my ability to have defined my identity by taking the most sensitive and controversial decisions. The road to becoming me often tested my patience and tolerance for male chauvinism but I turned out fine until that one moment when my soul was bruised by the savaging act of rape. I am a survivor with a spine of steel. While I may win legal battles, wear out social norms, I strive to explain what I lost in that moment. 


If only they knew, what they take away from us! 

Another gang rape  hits the town. A young medical student on way back home after a refreshing evening, charters a private bus and much to her dismay, is raped and brutally assaulted by a group of six men.

Overwhelmed by the barbaric nature of the assault, the incident cited irrepressible protests nationwide. People from every walk of life realized what Damini faced is a blind struggle every other woman faces everyday. That sisters, daughters and wives in our nation are equally vulnerable and exposed to becoming her. That it’s only a matter of chance, a sadist monster lurking around grabs a girl, demolishes her and gets away with it. What began as a protest transformed into a ‘movement-in-making’ for the right to dignity in the sexist culture of India. Unfortunately, it took more than a life to spark the fire as Damini eventually lost the battle for her life.

Damini’s death unassumingly, brought the battle between the male ego inflicted with wounds of a shattered totalitarian and womanhood changing its essence into existence, onto the fore-front of a nation’s value system struggling with the idea of her convergence. Slogans leading the debate over death penalty in rape cases have managed to make a mark and legal experts at the cross-roads of pulling up tight measures in order to stem the problem, are re-inventing the idea of capital punishment, discussing about its place in civilized and relatively tolerant societies we live in.

While everyone holds the right to have a say in the matter, no social agent can contain the sensitivity associated with the capital punishment but the victim. I wonder if she can too!

Being human and remaining humane is a challenge. It requires courage and resilience made of steel. Who would know it better than a rape victim? As she survives with the altered behavioral and emotional quotient, her real struggle lies in confronting the moment that haunts her for life-time, when dignity was stripped off her soul . The moment of helplessness that left behind scars of aggression can only be healed by bringing the perpetrators of crime to justice.

But peace is an expensive commodity. When assessed against nonchalant and diffusive mechanics of law, a rape victim nonetheless is a piece of a complex puzzle. Rapist and society are others. 

 As judiciary and administrative policies are being reformed to ensure safety of women in metro cities like Delhi, death penalty for rapists, is being debated to deter criminals to commit heinous crimes women across the entire nation. Astonishing it is, when I see people fail miserably to identify the real monster behind ‘Rape’. Rape, is not just a crime of passion. In Indian societies, it is deployed as a lethal weapon to humiliate delicate sexuality of women, a bulls-eye shot to avenge hurt male-ego and it will continue to remain so unless we stop feeding to sexist demons.

Punishment or Change? 

A dilemma that has haunted visionaries for centuries. Questions like capital punishment as an appropriate equation to square off the anti-social elements in a society are never easy to answer. Cutting short one’s lifetime to an end moment with a broken nib can not validate the social change India needs to see. Even if we pull out similar cases (Dhananjoy Chatterjee-2004, Nikka Singh-2012) where convicts have been hanged on raping and murdering minors, teenagers or mature women in the past, we fail to establish the connect between the punishment and its scope in changing the attitude of a society. A rape victim still is treated as a neglected junk, isolated from inside-out;  and rapist, well 100% jump in the no. of rape cases between 1990 and 2008 only confuses. National Crime Records Bureau registered a massive toll of 24,206 rape cases in India in 2011 alone.

Capital punishment indeed is a bold deterrent but it works as a leash to hold a monster a little longer than otherwise. It does not evolve into becoming anything more than that. Its existence is as futile and temporary as a neighbor with loud mouth and silent hands. Sexist values will continue to inflict wounds on our body and soul in one way or other, unless its roots are cut off.

A clever and sharp-pitched tongue trying to conceal the guilt and fear off convict’s face, contrarily speaks his soul inside-out but nothing is left to win-over. Silent expression on face of Matthew Poncelet (Sean Penn) stayed with me for a long while after watching ‘Dead Man Walking’. The movie explores the sensitive issue of capital punishment, and unfolds the transition of a distracted young man from Neo-Nazi to nothing. On death row for raping and murdering a teenager, fear of end moment torments him. Vulnerable and desperate, Matthew appeals for clemency, but is left disappointed. Matthew’s death is the only salvation, life can offer to the victim’s family. Interestingly, victim’s parents divert their ways forever from each other, as one of them refuses to seek culprit’s redemption in capital punishment.

What goes around comes around. The one moment irony hits back, this time to infiltrate layers of arrogance and vain, reaching the scared and remorseful soul of a man dying while waiting to die. There is no science that can explain the catharsis of his moment of truth. 

Peace, I wonder lies in shooting a mad dog or taming the sinner inside!

Image Courtesy: Google, Times India. 


What an ‘Artist’!

He laughed, and I smiled. He danced, and I pepped up. He vanished away, and I found…

What an artist George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is!

What was to last barely for two hours turned out to be a romantic affair for the lifetime. After craving for months, we were finally there to watch ‘The Artist’. Watching would be a rather downsizing take. Let me justify it as an experience in a five-fold-chapter evening.

Chapter 1: We own the place.  😉

We owe it to the evening for sparing us the unsettling voices and hush-push of people grabbing-a-seat and playing with it to comfort head and hips. Movie hall was empty right from the angles of flexed arms to up-tight necks. Music, silence and the spell it was about to bestow, made my evening, a special one.

Chapter 2: Lights Out Please!

Lights were out by now and a dusty flash from the projector hit the screen, and with it, began the aura of silence. We could not help but romanticize our souls inside-out.

How often, does a silent, B&W romantic comedy hit the screens, and you watch it all alone with your soul-mate? I bet; you are not that lucky my friend!  🙂

Chapter 3: Here comes my heart-throb…

As it happens, George Valentin is a popular film star and a gifted entertainer. With brighter-than-sunlight-smile and persona of a royal man, you dare resist his charm.

Gorgeous and vibrant Peppy Miller, an ambitious-nobody, is too wise to challenge it either. With a lively presence, she continues to win hearts cherishing little episodes of success, climbing up and tall.

Time: A villain too vile!

George is too proud to let go of his style to make way for talking movies and trifles with Peppy for being a chauvinist. An era of self-destruction begins for George.

 His wife has just left him, and for the right reason. But thank god, dogs cannot reason. They are the ones to be trained. Imagine how George would have trained his dog? Well, you got to go and watch ‘The Artist’.


 Love is a tough ride; tougher when it blossoms under the cruel measures of time. 

On the stakes are ambition, pride and rightful place, give and take the weights of love and reverence to decide their fate.

 I am hell of a poet 😉 !  


                                                                           Chapter 4: A moment of vulnerability  

Remember those moments, where months of suppressed anger, and  ‘futile-and-failure us’ are too vulnerable to carry the aggression for one more second?

It is about time, past should make a way for future.  And so, George breaks down, but thankfully, to fall in laps of a loyal dog and true love.


Our Ms. Miller turns out to be a digger. Just in time, there to collect and preserve shattered pieces of George’s legacy and fortune. George no longer can hide his vulnerable soul from Miller and it’s the moment of truth.

” Love: only chemical to dissolve an ego”.  

Chapter 5: It’s time to Tap

 You see, love has just conquered all, but Ms. Miller does not intend to settle with George’s talent, as her retirement kitty.

She is creative, resourceful and has just come up with the brilliant idea to cash on with George’s incredible style of dancing.

Ooohlala! (Another reason, for why this movie holds this close to me.)

Dance is to rescue George. Sponsors are happy and so are our love birds. And Cut… 🙂

Who needs those crappy lines when eyes, face and body speak volumes of vulnerability, pride and royalty of one, who may not be a star any more but is an artist for lifetime.

‘The Artist’ is all about performance of men at the front and back of the camera. What?! Ms. Miller, she is the man of the movie!

‘The Artist’ makes a successful attempt at direction that penetrates deep into characters, and brings on the surface, man’s inability to make peace with himself and how, the resilient force of true love helps him succeed in it.

 There is no denying , the movie could have turned out to be a version of bitter and harsh reality, if Ms. Miller had not balanced and re-affirmed me with ‘Love makes life; a fairy-tale’.

A perfect composition of drama, romance and comedy blended craft-fully into journeys of two film-stars trying to make their place in a  fate-changing industry of cinema.

It once again establishes the fact that a good movie is all about translation. Translation of a character that has a story to tell, well in this case, express. And mankind has been translating for centuries.

Image Courtesy: Google Images

A surprise to remember…The Sunshine Award

Writing is an interesting experiment. What you may write in isolation as a single minded piece of abstract once moves out, no more remains just yours to retrieve in its original state. By the time you will have it back, content will already have conceived creative or constructive or more likely contradictive theories of its existence or essence.

What makes it even more beautiful is its ability to connect with lives and in some way improvise them ( a rarest incidence as it goes for what I create).

Yet, I feel so delighted and encouraged to be nominated for The Sunshine Award, a million thanks to Jyothi, (terriblethinker as I know her) for seeing in me ability to write that kind.

As per the rules for having received it I must:

1. Need to include the award’s logo in a post or on the blog.

2. Answer 10 questions about yourself.
3. Nominate 10-12 other awesome bloggers.
4.  Link the nominees to this post and comment on their blogs, letting them know they have been nominated :-)
5. Link the person who nominated you.

10 things about me…

1. I am a Taurian, born on May 14. Nature, music, writing, watching movies, reading, home keeping and spending time with my loved ones is what my life revolves around.
2. I fancy the morning walk-language of people going to work and wonder can they really focus and read novels in such crowded metros.
3. Every time on my way out, I adore the greenery of Melbournian suburbs and beautiful houses and wondering which one would I love to live in.
4. Having a small house in a peaceful and green landscapes is the dream I breathe with me all the time. Teaching as a University Professor is another dream I am aspiring and hopefully would realize.
 5. My favourite movie is Schindler’s List & The Shawshank Redemption. I am a music person and simply adore Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, A.R. Rehman and Pink Floyd.
6.I am a liberal, believe in Independence and existence of one’s own and is on the crossroads of loosing or finding faith in God’s existence. An agnostic, I hope may find her faith soon.
7. The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand, is the sacred book for me. In fact, it is more than just a book.
8. I love giving little surprises to people I love and respect. I would rather gift than receive a gift.
9. I get irritated for being asked the dumbest questions and gets furious if being taken for granted. This is where I need to control and learn to behave my self and find and make my peace with me.
10. Why do I blog:  there are things that need to be conceived first hand by people in order to discover the truth inside them, I write for if it may do for some one else too as it works for me.
Nominees for The Sunshine Award are:
 1. Rana Nayar for Breathing Spaces.
2. Tomichan Matheikal for Matheikal’s Blog.
3. Subho for Jejune Diet.
4. Megha for Live on Impulse.
5. Arti for My Yatra Diary.
6. Nitin Amlani for Writing @ Will.
7. Rajtilak for Everything gonna be fine.
8. LeoPaw for bigbitz.
9. Shantanu Verma for Pune Diaries.
10. Farida for Chapters from my life.
I hope you would enjoy their blogs as much as I do.


…that are hits & misses in a day-to-day life.

Some real, some fantasy, some regretful and some that are just mine.

This light weight tiny-miny post comes straight from my heart  on my way back home I realized 


Yeah! Totally into it…one thing which never and I literally mean it, never ever disappoint me in shivering, surprising and bringing me bliss and bless.

The only place that can keep me immune to any and almost every household, professional and intellectual run-and-chase goodies of life.

Plenty of sunshine, unexpected rains, freezing winds, Melbourne has more than 5 seasons to offer in a single day.

You walk as little as 7 steps and you will find a well-built, beautiful tree to greet you with its humble head-down style. You sit in a park, rest your neck on the edge of a bench and you see birds cooing, neck-dancing and taking designer flights.   Ducks with funny butts…….Love it 🙂

And if this is enough to romanticize you, pluck a flower of color you like, walk back home, take a pen and write for the one who survives you each day 🙂 and present it your beloved.

Nature owes us more than just global conditioning 🙂

For what I had to say…A designer leaf was not a bad idea either.

Having to live in beautiful landscapes of Melbourne suburbs is indeed one of the best things happened to me.

When on Wheels….

To a music person his car is a concert venue-on-wheels. The road, music and your baby might know you better than others. Why not, you no longer have to play cool, trendy and upbeat stuff. Erotic or eye-tearing, they will never reveal your music-personality to others. 🙂

My list includes senseless stuff too and I totally enjoy ‘I am sexy and I know it’   😉

                                                                                            Just like that surprise….

Just like that, go to your laptop, look in for a nice card, romanticize  it and mail it to love of your life’s office address. The moment where he just managed to impress his colleagues with ‘I am something ‘ look and may actually bring him some desperate limelight and he will and should know it is now his turn to do something like this 😉

      A just like that surprise is a small gesture with great results. Knowing that he is not a flower person or for that matter a romance person like me, sending this letter brought a momentary cheerful smile.

                          Well I actually sent it with a red rose …full-on-filmy 😉                                                

  Do the Dance…..

If only I could go back in time….and you will see me dancing.

There, with a peppy foot and I would sway and flow, rise and fall, be me and someone else all at one time to the tunes of this magical form of art.                                                                                                

If only…I would have been more busy for my self and not others. Dancing is the way I would celebrate me, more occasionally, more honestly with more me into it.

I am still to gather enough courage and join a dancing club or school and enjoy it.

A 29-year-old with an injured back would be a funny and difficult stock to step up with.

What I still have is the imagination where I dance with perfection and effort-less grace and keep my silly half happy and at peace.

Wish I could dance like Lauren (Winner ‘So you think you can dance’ – Season 7 winner).

5. A fine movie and a real book.

They are part of my very foreseen life. Watching a movie or reading a book to me is as sacred as meeting a real person. They made me laugh and cry, think and act, walk-away and chase things priceless and of fine taste. They always manage to scratch me further and beyond what my heart and head can understand.    

My dear pals, time is money and clock of your life is ticking. Try & make sure you hear it before its too late.  

If you wish to cross over the roads of a routine life and a life imagined otherwise, a creative gesture speaks wonders. 

Image courtesy: Google

Beauty-Highs & Lows of Body and Soul.

Living or Lifeless, every entity known to man is coiled within its own spiral of virtue and vice. Rest that follows, is the ability to see through. And so is intent of this article; to find a connection that bridges the gap between, what is soothing to eyes and what moves a human spirit.

God loves playing with his children. He keeps the best stuff of life as abstract, and bestow on earth, a spectacular combination of nature and life, blessing humans with head and heart to demystify, what is worth good, bad or ugly. The exact point, where concept of Beauty comes in.

                                                  The entity that copes with dilemma of a picturesque sight against a soulful touch. A mystique that blends with elements of reasons and beliefs, in a manner that pleases eyes, renders one’s heart and  moves a soul.

 A calm dawn wrapped with greenery, childhood full of  madness, first  crush, an old  melody, falling in love, helping hand by a  complete  stranger in  troubling times of communal  atmosphere, there    is  no  dearth of beauty around us. It  is of  human to see, covet and celebrate  beauty  in gestures, individuals, nature and times of  togetherness.

And maybe, there is another way to look at it, that perfectly synchronizes with what beauty is meant to be, and does. A more obvious and most talked about form of Beauty. Through a woman, an embodiment of Beauty.

This contest made me wonder how would my spiral look like, if I relate Beauty with physical and spiritual attributes of a Woman? I looked into what is pretty on surface, and everlasting stuff inside that straight away makes somebody, a beautiful woman.

I soon realized I was searching for highs n lows of  a body and soul. A frame of  wish-list that every woman wants to fit in, and feel happy and safe. 


                                                                                Changing Labels and a Permanent Thirst!

Expressing beauty without showcasing a woman’s wish-list of ‘have’ & ‘have-nots” would be an unfair and futile gesture.

To her, a body is not a mere proportionate piece of mass. Femininity resides right within its lines and curves; along with emotions and temptations to score on every high, to replace every low of her body and soul.

Glowing eyes, flawless skin, fair color, right figure are very much, a part of it. An everlasting thirst to stay at par with changing expectations and labels of outside world and their idea of a beautiful woman. Her body is a canvas of beauty, she willingly or unwillingly carries along, remains an open invite to debate and distill, Good, Bad & Ugly.

I looked aside and found a wonderful contradiction, where one woman’s ‘have it’ collapses with ‘wanting it’ of another. Ironical and funny is my outlook on it. What works for one, is a liability to another. 

Imagine a lifetime of women born and brought up in a completely contrasting environment, assigned with proportionate facial expressions and body types of their own. Nothing on outside seems similar, not even their insides. Their outlook on beauty, womanhood, femininity are drastically different and so are their personalities.

An Indian woman in a cosmetic shop buying a fairness cream, and far across continents, a blonde is scanning across layers of bronze bottles to tan her body to get the right complexion. What connects these ladies, is not just levels of induced melanin, but a sane desire to cherish and rejoice their belongingness to look appropriate within timelines of constantly changing labels in beautification industry.

A zero figure is a rage, but elsewhere you might see women fighting their bodies to gain a few extra pounds just in right places. A lifetime of suppressing hunger for success that is momentary, against doses of cosmetic surgeries, and so much more people willing to give up, for what is perceived to be perfect by masses.

A breast cancer survivor trying to collect tits and bits of her shattered femininity and a supermodel willing to boost her career through silicon transplants. But does it end here? I doubt so. It is just a case of visible form of beauty. There is another angle to it.

                                                                                                 A Reflection: Beauty as a persona!

   Contrary to color, shape and size, this section is about women whose bodies never offended  spectators, but are still haunted by the idea of Beauty. Their smiles remain incomplete and often don’t reach eyes.

                    Does beauty has to do with sense of accomplishment? And what exactly it takes to feel accomplished? An attitude, bringing-up, value-system or a curious intellect?

Imagine a wife sitting in a corner of a room, pondering over what goodness, a pretty face and                     charming expressions brought to her life, other than a handsome proposal? A homemaker, missing on crucial sense of self being contrary to a modern, ambitious, accomplished woman.

A dumped girlfriend who had it all, and yet replaced by a confident and bold girl from some developed nation. A simple and religious woman losing her husband to an adventurous and  daring substitute.

On the contrary, an average looking girl, without layers of make-up and fashion accessories suddenly becomes love of life for an exceptionally attractive man.

At one place, a perfect relationship is in jeopardy by a new source of excitement, an attractive one, and just like that, somebody has broken up with a gorgeous lady for the warmth and soulful content, he felt was missing.

If you would dissect their anguish or delight, you might not find solutions, but can diagnose what and where, one felt short of it. Soothing eyes, happy heart and a convinced soul, define beauty in extreme and absolute state.

I must be kidding to my self, this combination is not only rare, but mighty and lethal as well for its victims.

Funny it is, to catch-hold of an ideal beauty, capable of  manipulating and distorting one’s sense of self-being. And there it happens, when it contradicts with ordinary, simple, average-looking woman. Heaps of complexes, and twisted psychologies are some of the reflections of its dark side.

Thank God! Beauty Lies in eyes of Beholder! 🙂 But whether it is to be feared or coveted, is a matter of heart and choice.

This evolution of concept of beauty, will and shall continue, to surprise and uproot orthodox labels of what a face, skin, hair and figure has been projecting through centuries. We might find it a little uncomfortable, but this process is a healthy one. It saves a spirit from falling into stagnant and dull aura of womanhood and femininity.

Look for a perfect beauty around, and life will stun you with myriad, strange possibilities that defy reasons and substance, beyond the conventional frame of both physical and spiritual form of beauty.

It is her moment of truth. She finally acknowledges talent and purpose to be part of her personality other than some expressive facial features.   

But does this debate downsizes on otherwise accessories, one applies to beautify body and secure a soul? Surely not. It is natural to crave for attractive looks, cherish an eye-candy, feel safe, or fit-in. To feel great is indeed the first requisite to retain confidence. It is just the matter of which place one wants to secure, and at what expense.

They are different pictures, and yet they reflect a common image of a woman in a constant search of beauty.

This journey to define beauty in a woman’s course of life, brought me a new perspective. It is not wise to adapt to labels and designs set by others. So is unwise of not trying on them. What is a challenge for one, is a source of creativity and fun for other. Creating and searching on what nourishes a body and soul, is what it directs us to. As long as your spirit feels safe and ensured, you will remain beautiful. If it craves for beauty, bless it with affordable accessories. Life is never short of surprises. Stay beautiful, because woman was born beautiful.

Dear readers, this post is a participant of Indiblogger’s drive on Trending topic of the month ‘What Does Real Beauty Means to You?’

IndiBlogger Badge
If you liked this post, click here to promote it.  If  not on Indiblogger, you can still like it on Facebook. Click here to like it!
Courtesy: Google Images

One…Insult To Injury.

Raise The Flag With Raised Spirit.

One  Right: To hoist a National Flag.

One  Opportunity: Alter ego calls chauvinist for a Political Dance.

One Victim: A Nation; A State; A Common Man.

One Debate: Duty Vs. Right.

One  Challenge: To Choose between A Pen Or A Sword.

One  Flag: A celebrity with a short life of a Day or Two.

One  State: Cornered for more than a half-century; Tendulkar with his, steals mine.

One  Separatist: I wailed over my son’s dead body; for he lost his, sooner than mine.

One  Govt..  Collective Wisdom: We are smarter than Me.

One  Effort: To dilute Illusions; Distil Vanity from the Truth.

One Solution: Good, Bad Or Ugly.

One  Enemy: Having the Last Laugh (On either side of the Border).

One  Day: (Ironically)The Day remembered & celebrated for a Nation’s effort for  betterment of its Citizens…becomes a universe of conflicting egos.


Dig Deep, Dig Fine!


I give my heart to understand abstract stuff, most of the time its relationships. This one I caught up with, was when I saw He’s  Just Not That Into You, the multi-starrer Hollywood romantic comedy, catching the psychological dilemmas of couples in a relationship that comes as a package. I used the word ‘psychological’ and not emotional, for I couldn’t feel any movement in my throat, sulking a deep breath to vent out the pain or gains of tear-busting scenes that mark up almost every love story. It wasn’t one though.

Are you beautiful, successful, charismatic personality, yet lonely? Find your special one here and Mary ( Drew Barrymore) registers with MySpace. To create one outstanding profile, collecting all brilliant, bright, fun, intellectual, creative stuff from other reasonably superior profiles. Like us, she is also clueless of which domain her Mr. Right would belong to. Heavy words, funky slangs, artistic bend for music, etc. to arouse substantial amount of interest in her MySpace profile. Sounds functionally familiar:).  I call it as dressing up.

Love is hopelessly hopeful. Gigi (Ginnifer Goodwin) is one determined lady, dead sure of meeting her guy. For which she has to go through a series of blind date sessions, mentor-ed by some Love Signs Monitor-Guy, Alex ( Justin Long), who interestingly avoids relation-shipping for the fear of being rejected. Through heart breaking rejections from the guys in search of girls who could either beat them better through creativity, wit or money or run neck-to-neck with them. Unfortunately, our Gigi keeps falling prey to politics of chase and run. But she is one person in the movie who maintains her composure through every high or lows. That is rare!

Unhappily Married Vs. Happily Unmarried. An institution or just a stamp. You either get a husband or a soul-mate. The couple of Beth ( Jennifer Anniston) and Neil ( Ben Affleck) is almost invincible. It got logic, emotions, care and affection. Wait, did I mention, they denounce breaking-up only to discover, Marriage or without it they are happily relation-shipped. Because marriage (of Ben & Janine, played by Bradley Cooper & Jennifer Connelly) is not just about being loyal, caring, home-making dedicated partners. When you got all of it, there still are chances of a relationship being annulled. Route gets opened to some one ( Anna, Scarlett Johansson) who with her, brings  new excitement that an old relationship misses vulnerably.

For a moment, I actually wished, for they should rather try out on Arrange Marriage. Since I know commitment or vows has nothing to do with either one, my mind drenched the silly advice back to become delible enough. I ain’t some snobby onlooker on love and relationships, just because I got my ducks in a romance-row. God knows I way too much fear him. But then I do. Sometimes  it’s better just not to define any course for a relationship to tread through in past, present or future. Dressing up any relationship, in advance, botch-off a relationship its ability to flex up with changing us. We have grown up knowing Love is just too notorious to always find it’s way. And when it does, it does not bother to follow any rules or concepts, defined or pre-defined. Relationships are prone to every tiny-miny insecurity or hyper-hoolah excitement. But lesser are they defined, more they breathe. Some want their love story to be a great saga, some are pretty happy with hooking to numbers, till they meet special one. Some go on with a certified marriage, some aren’t meant to enter.

What is worth knowing is, relationships are only as much as profound as we are. So, dig deep, dig fine.

Austerity of Love Vs. Jane Austen

Coin is in the air!

In a toss to pick on the righteousness of a choice or life’s randomness, Jarul flipped the coin. It is of prominent importance. It holds in its stakes, the twin tales of two characters she always derived strength and great content from. The characters of poise and interesting conflicts. Something that marked on the beginning of a calm transition from a Jane Austen girl to becoming of her self.

Coin with two sides of Austere Love and Jane Austen.

Jarul was 20 when she first heard of Jane Austen. Just like that, she visited the then talk in town character of Elizabeth Bennet from Pride & Prejudice was startled to discover the synonymity between Elizabeth and her. Reading or Writing, travel or home making, Liberty or Identity, all that invite infamous word of mouth to a woman from communities all around. It meant big. It imbibed deep. Legendary Jane Austen through the voice of Elizabeth Bennet gave her grounds to firm her feet on terrains of materialistic societies. She could not agree more with Austen’s prophecy on finding Mr. Right or a suitable Bride to be free from the clutches of tempting proposals favouring money, comfort or fame that are often mistaken as foundation of marriage & relationship, and insisted on the outcomes of a choice. This easy to sound word has huge implications on life, Jarul knew. She could easily relate it with people in relationships. Compatibility was all around. The most coveted factor for a successful relationship. Hobbies came next. Not to mention, the greyness  of subconscious, ambitious human psyche for great looks. She took admission to the school of thought, she used to call as Austen-ism. It would be very unfair of me not to reveal the creative resourcefulness of Jarul. The same thing which saved her from the syllogistic mess and made the toss to happen.

Jarul grew well with Austen’s voices in her head. With all the spunk to contain the theories of Austen-ism, she was running in Jane’s shoes, unless one day, when she fell.

She fell in Love. Regained her senses only to find that Jane’s shoes were off her feet. They were too short to stick & run with Life’s randomness. The first impact of the fall hit straight on her self-created world of Austen-ism. Hit was strong enough to erase dark, gravy, well written theories to an abstract where compatibilities, hobbies diluted in an instance. What left was only absolute, austere Love. How? He was no where even close to the least compatible version of what Jane or Jarul would imagine. All fresh, new, different, idiotic, even weird and selfish at times. They shared almost nil interests. It was a random hit. Just like Life. Without any of the calculations or precarious signals a personality sends in continuity.

Jarul was in love with Adeel. A kind, happy, lively, more than humane human. Where Jarul played with words and thrived upon great historical personalities of a socio-political world. Adeel played football. Threw pranks on friends and foes. It was fun to see front walls of their rooms postured Gandhi Vs. Charlie Chaplin. Not to mention, who belonged to whom.

Day by day, Jarul discovered a unique strength in odds of this relationship. She was no longer in pursuit of an intellectual company others intend to seek from their relationships. She recently understood that Love is not about finding something but about being it. Yes, she was scared of consequences of an ill-matched relationship. She did wonder if she was Jane in real or Adeel was an ideal character? It began the unsatiating urge to find answers to myriad possibilities that could go on with Austen being in her place. What if Jane  Austen would have fallen in Love? What if  love was not grown out of the compatibility ratios of the two? What makes an intellectually rich and strong woman to neglect diverse natural human psyches and narrow down  the do’s and dont’s of a suitable couple? How would she help her not to like or keep up with the absoluteness of Love?  Love, she realized is utmost simple, austere and absolute. Not meant to be arranged or found accordingly to calculations or conveniences? How could one justify the righteousness of a choice over the randomness, nature inculcates in humans? What makes the parameters of a right choice go beyond the boundaries of Love, trust and loyalty to compatible definitions, hobbies or life-styles? Which is stronger – Vanity of alike choices or guts to entertain and keep up with the harshness, differences that originate within love.

Jarul though feared the advances and declines of chosing two sides of the coin. It was this randomness, that blessed her to experience the rare austerity of love. Falling in Love inculcated in her, the strength to keep up with what life gifted her through its random strike.

Jarul flipped the coin with a strange smile reflecting a sense of peace and pride. Again, not to choose a side, but as a salute to revel in life’s randomness.

This post does not degrade or downsize on prophecy of Mr/Miss Right. This is just what people are faced and poured with when in Love-doubts and consequences of choices when loving ones are not what they expect. To love some one unconditional and without labels is the toughest and simplest thing of the world. I just thought to pen down way I felt about it.

It’s a beautiful(artificial) life!…

…Says John Craig Venter, an American biologist, credited with the success of introducing the first ever synthetic cell in the realms of nature. Why not? He has the reasons to back the same. He is the first ever father to a newly born artificial, self-replicating bacterial cell. Proudly named the baby after the pioneer genome research institute, as Mycoplasma myocides JCVI-syn 1.0, he has laid down the very principle of a life that can be generated in a computer, crafted in a laboratory and survive in nature as a real one with the exceptional manipulative skills controlled by the inserted artificial genome( a unique code that determines the genetic traits in a person). With his rich vision, he longs for big time wonders.A world without any dependency on fuels, healthy life with an increased average of more than 80 years, revolutionized medicine with miracle drugs to boost immunity in humans by exploiting and controlling the very own notorious microbes known to cause serious health threats to the human communities world over.

We have seen it happening in Sci-fi movies, scientists playing the God theme and world dancing to their tunes, to capitalize this ominous power to control and manipulate life, creating an ethical dilemma for ambitious creators and benefactors. Usually,the  reel- action settles the debate in favor of a protagonist opposing such imposed advances in nature, restoring the balance and giving command back to nature, to lead as origin of all creations.

This remarkable achievement of replacing the unique, natural genetic code with the one synthesized by humans in the sophisticated life-tubes can prove to be a game changer in the world of medicinal-industrial revolution. Though a lot to be achieved yet in order to claim and back even bigger statements of actually creating the full-fledged life, the nature-science equation seems to be re-set, weighing positive connotations over the negative ones.

Followed by Ethics Vs Growth, Man Vs God and Nature Vs Science debate, the  challenge on the front is to strategically implement it to the benefits of mankind evading all possibilities of any bio-terrorism attacks, optimized, feasible costs to economies and commercial misuse by over-patenting through exclusive IPR keeping in mind the nature and size of the breakthrough.

I wonder what conclusions could be drawn from this real-life action? Parallel worlds of science and nature whenever interfaced, they resulted in interesting achievements to surface leading to further elongation of their territories. Science would never stop to surprise us in bringing on the table, the power to exploit basic life-science concepts, and converting the same into wonders with the aid of applied biotechnology. Nature, on other hand leads the score by destroying and weakening the established doctrines, settling accommodative and odd combinations to push the scientists back to square one.

From the times when success in handling an empire meant strategic architecture to keep the technology invisible to today’s rush in recording the breakthroughs and patenting them, bolster it to a level to entertain monopolies, science has successfully defied the boundaries of human reasoning with its creative, constructive theories. It is indeed, a beautiful invention!

New Life Knocking!

I stay with the mirror a little longer,I see the Music n taste the Color!
I know the Happiness by a Name,God is my buddy he plays my Game!
Learning to Count with a Calender, Crossing the Bars fills me with thunder!
I pass by windows a little slower, Jewels shine for me, they say ‘we know HER’!
I blush for the girl I see inside, she z a Bugger who wouldn’t let it hide!

Red or Blue,Green or White??They all suit me now, all r my side!
I m no sad with no frens around, the new me is keeping me bound!
I m the new favorite wd a pair of blessings,all wanna serve d one they l soon be missing!

I wanna learn all the recipes, they say its an easy therapy!
I wanna contain all my vices, fill the voids wd all what SPIDEY likes!
I wish to impress  mother in kitchen, wd make it my temple n treat it Religion!

Its all not easy it got a rampwalk, D ‘Ghoongat’ gonna cover my spark!
I l take the sister to a mall, I l pay her bills to woo her all!
‘Sudama'(Family KID) the hard nut to crack, wd use my niece as a Jack!

Oh Krishna! Bestow the good deeds, I m your child!
Transition from a Girl to Woman is not so mild!!

Bless my home wd Peace n Health n Courage in heart to fill in WEALTH!

I think therefore I am!

Religion: Teaches Discipline.
Intellect: Route to Development.
Free will: Karma, deed, action…my existence…..
Prayer: Self Cleaning, surrender.
Faith: Mother of hope.
Love: The only chemical that dissolves ego.
Nature: Life’s search engine for answers. Embraces all, unbiased, exceptions are justifiable.
Mahabharata: A Lie can be pious than truth.
Lord Krishna: The greatest mentor.
Srimad Bhagwad Geeta: Quizmaster – Who, What& Why?
Villages: Self recovery.
Cities: Pacemakers. Lights n dark.
Sports: Best of all drugs available!
Music: Celebrating life.
Mother: A blessing.
Father: Home is the safest place.
Politics: The noblest job is the one most obstructed.
Knowledge: The best measurement.
Science: Reasons or miracles?
Money:  Free Gifts it can’t buy.
Smile: Infection doesn’t need medical attention always.
Books: Bridging possible and feasible?
Education: Decision Making, the effort India needs the most.
Youth: I write my own dictionary.
Childhood: Smartest of all ages.
Kids: Refreshment. I m dead when the kid inside me is dead.
Alcohol: Respect me for it makes me accessible. Hate it for it makes me inaccessible at the same time
Teachers: Elevators.
India: A CHALLENGING IDEA…not just a nation.


Those who desire to rise as high as human condition allows MUST renounce

The intellectual pride…

The omnipotence of clear thinking…

Absolute belief in human logic…