Musings, facts and fun

“I am not going to school today”, Ruhi whined stomping her feet as her face continued to turn red. “Yes, you are. You just cannot miss school for random reasons”, I sternly retorted while bundling up her lunch case. “Mom! Have a look outside, it’s raining heavily. My clothes and shoes will get all wet and dirty”, she tried to point me towards the heavy downpour outside, standing on her toes to reach the window I sighed. Unlike most kids her age, Ruhi was extremely punctilious to ensure her clothes didn’t have even the tiniest bit of dirt. “The monsoon season has started, Ruhi. The weather will be like this for months; and I am not letting you miss school anymore. Now, why don’t you make it easy for both of us and wear your rain jacket and get ready to go. Come on, I know how much love your new red polka dot raincoat, don’t you? And since you are so particular about getting dirty, I will also keep your old jacket in your bag as a spare. Now, Is it okay?” I said as I motione...

Warm mornings, Or breezy evenings, Whether simmered slowly with a hint of ginger, Or coupled with a dash of elaichi and pepper. When there are showers outside, Or when there is a chill inside. Whether its at home or the nukkad shop at the far end, But definitely never at a CCD or Starbucks, friend. While in a train as it chugs ahead, Or when the bus comes to a halt at end. During conversations that stretch long, Or even when someone is alone and forlorn. When the first rays of the sun light up the floor, Or when the clock strikes a nightly four. Whether you'r paired with Samose fresh out of the skillet, Or frugal on your own with a Parle G packet. When in office and your eyes start drooping, Or by the smirk on the colleague's face you know a chai-break is coming. Whether you come steaming with a lot of milk Or with loads of mom's love blended in. Whether the mood is jubilant, furious, sullen or just fine. A first sip of your hot cup is s...

It was an unforgettable day for me. I handed off 50 bucks to the auto-wala and hesitatingly entered the college gates for the first time only to be welcomed by an amazingly never seen before spectacle. “Is this supposed to be a place to study!” were the first thoughts to cross my mind as I saw a bunch of guys sitting in a pool of smoke in a corner, gaudy graffiti written on the cafeteria walls and girls promenading in the smallest of clothes. I was myself in a total chaos at that moment, wearing an old pair of jeans and a loosely fitted kurti iced with unkempt hair, a combo which left absolutely no stones unturned in making me out of place. I silently gruntled at my parents for having me admitted in a place where apparently only the creamy class studied; or seemingly caroused for that matter. “Why did dad get me admitted in this madhouse; how am I going survive a single day here, let alone 3 years”. As I walked past looking from one side to the other; I was taken aback by the eno...

"I am going to Tracy's place dad; don't wait for dinner!" Jamie cried out from the patio before shutting down the door noisily behind him. Phil smiled briefly as he got seatead next to the window while watching his son pull out his bike from the garage underneath. He knew the phase of life Jamie was going through very well. He, too, had been in the same juvenile days; which though were ages back, yet seemed to have happened just a while back. Those are the times when a man is teeming with energies and rebellion; his desires being wildly turbulent. While his mind got teleported to his heyday, he chuckled at the thought of the craziest things he did in his life; traveling almost half the world with no money; falling in love with Amanda, the prettiest girl in town; pestering all his teachers all the time; and how he drank and ate uncontrollably. It was young blood after all; passionate, energetic and untamed. With numerous memories of his youth chiming i...

Following is a story that was conjured more than a year back; only making its way to the blog today. I owe my vote of thanks to Rohit sir for the discussion we had that laid the foundation of the idea. Sitting at the window pane at twilight with a cup of hot tea and peering across Mumbai landscape used to be Natasha’s favorite daily regime. She felt rejuvenated staring at the endless expanse and the infinite commixing of the sky and the sea, which used to act as her daily dose of new energies and ideas.  Moving in to the sea side apartment was one of the best decisions she had taken. It was always a relaxing experience to glance out and find kids playing in the nearby park, couples walking along the cobblework, and the spectacular setting sun. But, that day when she was in dire need of a good story for her magazine ‘Diva’, the sickening sight outside pathetically failed at generating ideas and her mind was all void. There are some days when the yellow dwindling li...

“Trriiiing”, the door bell rang for the third time.. ‘’Not again Shanta bai!!! Can’t I get a moment of peace in my own home??”, I cried out. I kept tossing in the bed and plopped down with my hands pulling the pillow over my ears hoping that Shanta Bai would go away. She didn’t and shortly the bell rang again, this time  longer and shriller than before. I shrugged and got up; and as I swung myself out of bed the sheet entwined my legs and got pulled along. Groaning, I made my way downstairs; reached the door and pulled it open. “Shanta bai kitni baar bola aapko!!” I shouted out at the poor petite figure standing outside. “Sorry?”, came the reply like a melody. What! this definitely wasn’t the croaky throat of Shanta Bai. I squinted and rubbed my eyes hard to budge them open. They almost popped out as I saw the figure of a pretty young girl dressed in blue salwar kameez standing in front of me. She tucked at the loose end of her white dupatta and was staring at me with an ...

She smiled as she recounted her 10 th birthday when wrapped in a pink glaze paper, her uncle gave the book ‘The Love Magic’ in her hands. ‘She is just 10. This is her age to do math and to not read some fancy love fantasies not meant for her age’, she had overheard her mum talking furiously  to uncle John over the phone, soon after the party ended and they had finished unpacking all gifts. But this did not bother Erica; it rather stirred her curiosity as she quickly flicked open her bedside lamp and got started to unfolding her new possession. She read for 6 hours continuously that night, she read about Katie, about Mark, about their magical love. ‘Magic doesn’t happen in real life honey, these books just present a rosy picture of everything. But you have to be careful and just can’t be hoping for some thing to happen’, is what mum told her over breakfast the other day. Erica’s puffy eyes did little to hide the fact that she spent the whole night reading the book and mum kn...

I was looking through some files on my old laptop when I came across this piece.. its actually a poem written in April last yr when we were at the verge of leaving collg ( infact as most people know, I have not been into poem writing much, but I dont know what was going through my mind when I penned this one) It is not very good as a literary piece, but happens to be something really special to my heart. And seeing that its nearly 1 year since this was written, I decided to post this to my blog. A lot of things have changed in the past 1 year since we left Allahabad, and I just soo much wish those days can come back.....  I also wish I could tag all my gang here, but blogger apparently doesnt give that option yet as fb does :) Here it goes... " Through frailties, through life’s thick n thin You all stayed by my side as an angel akin. When every miniscule of joy got quadrupled when together we laughed, When every shred of tear ebbed wit...