Life as it comes..

The other day, I accidentally carried an ant from my room to my office. (No, it wasn’t "Bring Your Pet to Work" day!) Apparently, this little explorer decided to embark on a spontaneous hike, scaling my office bag without a visa. It ended up commuting with me across what must feel like continents in ant terms. The poor thing had perched itself on the zip—until I spotted it and flicked it off. Just like that, it's now miles away from its colony, exiled by a creature hundreds of times its size. Back home, ants on my bed don't usually get such thrilling adventures. More often, they face my wrath. Sometimes they get squashed just for walking across the wrong pillow—thanks to the itchy memories left behind by their bitey brothers. I wonder—do they curse me? Do their tiny communities whisper legends of the great karma? And what about the ants living in the crevices between my bathroom tiles? Every time I shower or wash the floor, they experience sudden floods—disasters of b...

I wish I could write a solid piece of article on the current trending topic - LLMs! Instead I'm one letter short and here to talk more about LLs 😁 Gary Chapman, an American author and talk show host is credited and best known for his concept of the five love languages that humans use to express and receive love. They are:  Words of affirmation Quality time Gifts Acts of service Physical touch While it is established that people use all of these languages to some degree, a person will primarily speak one of these love languages. We all have different ways of expressing our love and have specific ways in how we want to be loved.  Perhaps this is one of the most profound concepts that can explain why relationships fall apart without placing blame on either of the parties involved. Sometimes, we fail to understand how to love the person we already love so that they also know it and then sometimes, there's a conflict/ trade-off involved where despite wanting to love someone the wa...

There's this beautiful song called "To build a home" by The Cinematic Orchestra. Each time I hear it, there's some strange melancholy that it induces in me. I sometimes tear up while listening to it and sometimes my heart's beats match the beats of the song. My love for this song might also come from the fact that it's used in a couple of my favourite movies and shows and played at some pivotal scenes that had an impact on me. to build a home - audio link "And I built a home for you, for me,  until it disappeared  from me, from you Now it's time to leave and turn to dust" What does it mean to build a home for someone? What will it be made of? Stone, wooden floors, love, care...? Where will it reside? In the world that you can see through your eyes or in a world you see only within? What will be the colour of its walls? A clean coat of plain white or textured strokes of passionate hues? Will it have windows or just walls? Will it have a welcome ma...

It always comes as a pang The happy memories Carefully filtered from the sad ones Just enough to leave you gasping   No matter how careful you are in hiding it Or how deep you think you’ve pushed it   It resurfaces, It has to. Your body covered in sweat   Cannot distinguish what is from what was And while the dripping sweat reduces your skin temperature It cannot touch the burning heat within Closing the eyes   only makes you see clearer into the past Opening it   makes you feel like you’ve lost your sense of direction How can your own mind play games on you? Such a deceit   Making you believe you had it all Making you believe you’ve lost it all Making you believe you can still have it all How did people communicate when there was no internet? No phones.   No pigeons. And no legs to walk or mouth to speak? Tell me how for I need it now Tell me how for I need to reach somewhere Tell me how for I need to race with time Tell me how, if you agree with my p...

The pandemic got me trying out many new things. Some, because I had more time on my hands, some, because it was long pending, some, to manage the growing stress within me, some, because it just was pure joy and some, a result of all the above. One such habit was buying flowers for myself and setting up my vase. The way this habit formed is rather interesting. At one point in the pandemic, due to multiple lockdowns and restrictions around, I had stopped moving my limbs enough and the impact of it on my health was huge and so, when restrictions were eased out, I started taking any opportunity I had to just walk around. I realised that the few minutes I walked also helped my mind stay away from negative thoughts which had piled up as a result of a stagnant life and environment. On one such walks of mine, even after walking for a few rounds, the mind hadn't fully settled. I tried to take a different and longer route to just see if throwing many more objects and senses to register would...

Disclaimer: This is not a paid advertisement or propaganda. I wouldn’t dare do that about something personal to me. A whiff of Warm Vanilla Sugar, just as the name suggests brings warm memories to me which are mostly sweet like sugar and vanilla like I.e. subtle, not over powering, sweet but not too much and one can hardly dislike it. It not only brings warm memories but also somehow makes me feel the warmth of a caregiver. By now, you have already guessed what I am talking about. Yes, Warm Vanilla Sugar is a perfume by Bath and Body Works, one that I have been using from years now. I might be one of those few women who has purchased her perfume like she would purchase her veggies or mobile plan! There’s anyway not too much thought required in buying the same old, good old. I was first introduced to this scent by my childhood friend who got me a warm vanilla sugar gift hamper as a souvenir from her first trip to USA. This was the time when India had no Bath and Body works stores. I rem...

All of our lives are consciously or unconsciously in preparation for that one moment where we can finally feel proud for making it count. Ernest Hemingway’s “The old man and the sea”, which won him the Pulitzer prize is a narration of one such glorious moment of an ordinary old fisherman - Santiago. It is the story of how Santiago who is struck by ‘salao’ (bad luck) and hasn’t had a single catch in almost 3 months decides to endure any challenge that might come in the hope to reverse his unproductive streak. The decision sees him stuck deep in the sea for three long days having baited a huge Marlin but unable to pull it up and holding onto the fish line with every ounce of strength his body can produce.  As the struggle between the old man and the giant marvellous Marlin progresses, what we witness are the beautiful, intricate layers of a not-so-ordinary man and the sheer strength and grace of the mighty nature. I feel this is something we all can personally relate to - going throu...

 It's Friday night and I had a horrible, long and tiring day at office.F inally, at 8.30pm after almost 12 straight hours of being at office and working for the day, when I got up, my slogging ass thanked me for releasing it off the pressure for a few minutes :D I expected the traffic to be better but who was I kidding? Bangalore Traffic! on a Friday night! Better?? *add a loud monstrous sarcastic evil laughter* MY FOOT!!! Riding back, thanks to the dark streets minus streetlights, as*****s who drive with high beam within city limits and potholes which are the size of a manhole, I had numerous moments where I thought today was the last day of my life on this wretched planet but guess the universe isn't done with me yet! Finally, after what seemed an hour of riding to cover a distance well within 10kms, I almost reached home if not for spotting a newly opened cafe. And suddenly, there was this beautiful thought inside my head to go on a date with myself!! I know right! That ...

I have loved and lost... lost myself to the love, lost the love as well. I'm sure a vast majority of us understand the feeling and can still feel a piercing pain in fleeting/vulnerable moments. Although I understand the feeling and have accepted it as part of this journey called life, I never understand why it had to happen or how necessary it was as an individual event.  What did I learn by experiencing it? I don't think I will come to any conclusion on these questions despite dedicating countless minutes of time in overthinking these topics just like how I will not understand Why Lata had to leave Kabir or why life had to separate  Mohini from Digvijay!! All I know is that I am a flood of emotions in those few moments fighting a silent battle on the outside, my inners shrieking at their loudest! In that turmoil of emotions, what I miss the most is my love for life ,love for self, love for love that I've lost in my pursuit of love for another I dedicate this post to Vira...

Photo by  Evan Dennis  on  Unsplash Why don't you take a moment to wonder of how life came into existence? Why do you waste a day by not smiling? While you could be bridging gaps with it Why do you sit over there, destroying a life by gossiping? Why don't you use words to talk a soul out of depression instead? Why do you cry waiting for an old friend to return? Why don't you step out and extend your hand to someone new instead? Why does your ego stand so tall? Why don't you realize how insignificant you are? Why does your mind dream so small, containing only materialistic whims? Why don't you dream to strive for others Why do you sleep with no thoughts inside of you? Why don't you let a progressive restlessness of such 'Why's engulf you?

If I could travel far then I would travel far away from your memories that keep me up at night or haunt me in my dreams If I could travel far then I would travel to the graveyard watch the tombstone of our happiness shed a tear or two remembering you If I could travel far I would travel back to you in search of a missing piece of me that which stayed with you, while I walked away

Walk by the beach and take a seat miss set aside your sandals & give the ocean a kiss join your hands and clink your bangles sync with the ocean to make happy jingles Read a novel of a prince there once was build a sand castle in his honour catch a crab running to report to his boss be assured that here, you are never a loner Sleep on the sand and watch the sun go down take a smile from the fisherman and change your frown think of things you are grateful for and voice out a hum Now, you can call yourself a certified beach bum

Of rains that poured men that snored lush green forests, slippery road newly found friends to share the load hungry leeches and dead frogs a helpful guide and his friendly dogs hesitant smiles that turned to nonsense banter unfortunate incidents that no longer matter coffee, tea and maggi that was hot a new group of friends that earlier was not! Guitar strums and heart warming songs dumb-charades guesses - how many right and wrong? A trek that took place on a cold day who minds? It filled us with such warmth anyway...

I am told that when I was a young girl I used to tell bed time stories myself and fall asleep Fast forward to today, I rely on audio stories in synthesized voices to make me sleep I am told that when I was a young girl, I used to sit on peoples' laps, telling stories of how my day went Today, I quietly walk out of any room containing other humans When I was a young girl, I thought words were gifted to us so we could easily express love to the world around us Today, I sit as a cursed soul watching people I love sparing only silence for me When I was a young girl, I had a happy melody to my voice when I sang with souls around me Today, my therapist after waiting patiently for me to say something, hands me a sheet of paper asking me to tell what I feel in words...

Oh! the aroma of coffee bringing memories of a sweet intoxicating love a love that started with promises of tasting like a mocha but ended up leaving the taste of an espresso So, while I worry if my heart will recover my tastebuds seem to be at a higher risk Sharing our love towards sipping coffee I didn't realize time fly by A quick turn of events - you had finished savouring the sweet coffee And I am now reduced to a bitter residue.

This week I finally watched "The Waiting". Although I am ashamed that I took almost three years to watch a movie that I was waiting to watch right from the time I read about its concept on paper, I am happy I finally did. The movie stars two of my all-time favorites - Naseeruddin Shah and Rajat Kapoor along with Kalki Koechlin who inspires me with the simplest fact that she is much more than a fair skinned pretty lady. In this movie, she has turned lyricist for the beautiful song named 'Waiting for you'. The movie is about how two characters meet in a hospital environment and bond while waiting for their loved ones to get better. You get to see how powerful hope is, when that is all you get to have by your side. Oh! that is not the only thing obviously, you do have the fake promises of a doctor, shallow reassurances of a friend and a hesitant insurer with you whenever you don't want them. But the one thing that kept lingering on my mind even after the movie, wa...

What if home is not a place nor a person? What if it is the scent of a perfume that is no longer produced but still resides on your skin? What if it is just a feeling? A feeling that you unnecessarily associate with material things outside of you while it is trying hard to retain it's sanctum within you. What if you always knew this and chose denial instead? How do you feel now? safe or homeless?

What does the colour grey mean to you? Do you associate it with happy moods or sad moods? Or are you like me? Where grey clouds make you feel gloomy and grey t-shirts are happiness. This post isn't about grey as much as it is about the duality it stands for, in my life. I've always believed sadness is beautiful too. I have my own reasons for that apart from the much-accepted fact that we would never come to appreciate happiness if we didn't know the taste of sadness. I wouldn't get into the entire list now but would talk to you about one of the things from it - writing. I took to writing when I was sad. Even to this day, I write when I feel low. Now you understand why a lot of my writings have a sad tone to it. But, do I regret it? Hell no! Writing to me has been like that friend who figures out that you may be feeling low and shows up with a tub of chocolate ice cream and a warm hug. It comes knocking when I feel knocked out myself and pulls me ou...

You never fail to notice me, do you? but it takes some amount of madness to feel like you want me. Yes, I may seem a little complicated unkempt, always a little out of place my thoughts are like me flowing wildly in circular waves don't be mad at me when you cant untangle me, I'm just a simpleton appearing esoteric don't try to straighten me, because then, although beautiful, I would be reduced to an altered truth don't try to tame me by pulling me back to a knot, leave me free and I'll sit majestically on your shoulder ...willingly.

Don't burden me Don't overload me Stop closing all windows It's so suffocating in here Can you please let that man go out? I can't contain him anymore And honestly, he's been waiting by the door for long now, Don't stress anymore on right or wrong Can you please forgive her? I've already turned indifferent towards her,  Can you try and forgive you?  C'mmon you're not perfect! You're human too,  And while I'm talking to you now, I see you staring at the blank wall, I know I'll have to make space for another load Seriously, stop... - your "overthinking" brain