Bitter sweet

Is bitterness a chapter in our lives or an ingredient. Are we bitter at given intervals because things didn’t turn out our way or our we carrying the baggage on daily basis and hints of bitterness taint our emotions often...

Assets

Money ,fame, power or influence? Which asset tops it all

To be loved and to be understood aren’t they the most precious and difficult to achieve. As they say, a dying man won’t say I wish I had made more money...

To be loved the way you want to be loved is a dream come true and pathway to heaven on earth. A dying soul shall surely remember A loved one.

Letter to self ...

For the precious in life lies under the covers of memory

I chase the baubles, for the greatest memories aren’t ones on the wall

Fake smiles adorn the mantle pieces

I know, I question but I carry on

For I value not the valuables But the hollow joy, the withering leaf

Fool in a fool’s paradise chasing another oasis

And letting the sweetest, purest burry under the sandstorm

Smile

Butt Selfie...really?

The other day I saw an elaborate article on a woman earning thousands of dollars by posting " Butt SElfie". True no matter how ridiculous it sounds! As narcissism is fast replacing love and self love dubbed greater than love- selfie is just a form of worship. How wonderful it is showcase ourselves!
Is loving oneself bad? not at all because only when we love ourselves we can take care of others around us. So what's the best expression for love -- JOY and what's the best indication for joy-- SMILE. Can I ask readers to post a selfie of their smiles.....

New World

Quarantine, the new fancy word from the English dictionary which has seeped into everyday life. 2020 has been the unprecedented year and every human being, every country somehow reached an equilibrium in terms of confusion and fear of unknown. The term Covid 19 coined by the very (doubtfully)efficient WHO put our lives on a hold. And now that the ‘peak is past’ slogan is making its round, what have we learned! What was your takeaway from this standstill journey.

Yearning & learning

I yearn for those begotten moments
Vivid as the springfield in the landscape of my memory
The windmill turned and time leaped into what if
If that love had been reciprocated, if that hut had turned into a home
My mind is all but a smeltery

If that drink had been savored longer and the hands that brushed the arm should have been held onto...
the heart does race at these thoughts and lips tremble to be bitten
A pulse quivers for those begotten moments
the ruffle of memory sheets clouds my thoughts
There is a longing , an aching to know once again what it's like to be smitten

a little droplet shines on the wine glass just to be wiped off
for the long road driven on beckons me
a dream floats on my mind of the eyes that gazed at my soul
the gaze that rowed in the nape of my neck and made my heart flutter like a butterfly in a springfield
the breathless me ready to immerse into the vast sea...

Mummyhood

Childhood seemed like distant past and cooing mothers seemed like strange creatures, babies looked cute and adorable but something I would admire from a distance. Requesting a seat in a child free zone of the restaurant or aircraft appeared the most natural thing for me to do. Diapers even the unused one caused a not so pleasant feeling in the pit of my stomach. Discussions of baby food, puke or color poo were most absurd things I came across during monthly reunions. Remembering names of his daughter, her son and getting the genders right was a task- I stuck to, 'hows the baby doing?'.
I congratulated parents on their little bundles of joy without trying to cuddle the bundle.

And then , I became a mother.