Posted in My life, Random Thoughts

The End of the World Approaches (Again?!)

Hi, I am rebloging one of my older pieces from my earlier site. Apologies to those who already read it.

In 1999, the daily news was filled with a number of ‘apocalypses’ headed our way: Asteroid impact, Pole shift, Nuclear holocaust, the Last Judgement and so on. I and my friends in school wondered whether we should spend all our saved pocket money in case we die the next day. Others contemplated the worth of studying for exams if, hopefully, we were dying anyway. The year went without the promised relief.

Then came Star-holocaust and the year of rising of Christ in 2000, Nibiru collision in 2003, nuclear war in 2006… There were some real catastrophes during these years, Tsunami, Typhoons and floods, but no one predicted those. In 2012, all the apocalypses promised for many years made a reappearance: Nibiru collision, Pole shift and Continent break-away, Galactic alignment, Solar storms, the Last Judgement… Again, I wondered whether I should trust them and spend my considerably larger savings.

I had reasons.

In 2006, a jyotishi (astrologer) predicted that I will die soon. I survived this personalised prediction though and had to complete LL.B.

Then, in 2008, another couple of jyotishis said that I should have died already and wondered how my stars saved me! Surprise! Then, they suggested pujas for an entire year to change my stars. (I wonder why, when they were also keeping me alive!) For six months, I followed the rigid daily schedule of pleasing various stars religiously (literally!) until I had had enough and decided that I would prefer dying instead and skip MBA exams. I am still alive though!

Hence, I couldn’t trust these people in 2012. What if I had to live at a night shelter in Delhi after spending all my money?

Someone I know was foretold to die at 50. Dreading the day ever since, he has planned life accordingly—doesn’t spend on himself, saves entire money for his family’s future and strives to settle his children as early as possible. Close to 50 now and with perfect health, he lives under the constant threat of dropping dead any day. I don’t know if crossing 50 will prove to be a shock to him—No plans post-50!

Most religions believe in Destiny but also believe that it is not written in stone. Even a change in a single molecule of the tiniest little thing can change future drastically.

Say, a certain X was destined to break a leg in a bike-truck accident on a fated day. However, on the way to hit him, the trucker ate food that an E. coli bacterium decided to infect out of sheer whim. The trucker got a stomach disorder, had an urge to relieve himself first and missed X by a few seconds. Hence, the whim of a single-cell being, the (Good?) bacteria, saved a human from hopping around for months. The trucker had a hard time driving though.

Again, Y was destined not to win a lottery on a certain day. But the person who picks the winning lottery numbers was eating bubble gum that he dropped in the bowl by mistake. While he was picking out the sticky gum, Y’s ticket number stuck to the gum. Y became the winner.

Consider this: If destiny is so exact, wouldn’t it have known that you would meet this jyotishi and thr advice he/she would offer? Then wouldn’t it design your fate around the said advice leading you to the foretold fate?

“Prophecies can be broken”, as told by the great saint J.K. Rowling in the holiest of holy books the Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. Wonder what if Lord Voldemort had not heard the prophecy and not gone after Harry… He could have been saved a few years of playing Phantom in Albanian forest. Once you know your ‘Destiny’, you will take the exact steps leading to it.

So, for a happy life, avoid jyotishis at all cost—especially the you-are going-to-die type. Don’t wait for or dread your Destiny or the End of the World. Don’t try to kill Harrys to save yourself. Learn to play hopscotch in case you break your leg someday. Also learn to fly a glider, go bungee-jumping, make friends, fall in love and celebrate each day. This way, whether the world ends tomorrow or not and whether you find your Destiny or not, you would have lived a Life anyway.

Posted in Love

The Bus Detour

She was looking out of the window with unseeing eyes as the bus took a detour to avoid a roadblock.

For the hundredth time, she thought of earlier that day…in the back of his car… She smiled. Absent-mindedly playing with the ring he gave her, she wondered if he was thinking of her as well.

Suddenly, the bus turned a corner into a dark alley. Its headlights revealed a familiar car with a couple entangled ferociously in the backseat. She had her answer.

Posted in Life and After

An Unlikely Story(?)

Hi, I am rebloging one of my older pieces from my earlier site. Apologies to those who already read it.

Long time ago, there lived a woman who used pigeons to send mails. She spent all her day sending and reading her mails. She would draw pictures of ‘Aloo salad’, ‘Kadhai dal’ and ‘Chulha roti’ and send it. People would, then, tell her that they liked it or loved it. She, in turn, would do the same for them. Once an insect bit her lips and she sent her picture to her friends. This inspired others to post their picture with a pout as well.

All this made her feel important and happy!

She kept her precious pigeons in a cage and locked them when not delivering emails to ensure no one stole them. One fated day, she lost the key of the cage. No other key would work. Locksmith tried different combinations, even tried breaking it but the lock would not budge. He gave up in the end.

A week later, the woman passed away of a broken heart…

Unlikely story? Weird story? Stupid story?

I don’t think so!

Most of the people on Facebook or Twitter spend all their free time on it. They post pictures of what they cooked or wore, where they went and how they are feeling. They wish their own spouse and children a ‘Happy Birthday’ on Facebook or Twitter, even though they live in the same house. And the rest of the world likes and loves it.

They call their friends to ask why they only posted a like and did not comment on a particular picture if they really liked it.

If needed, they would even suggest a good comment.

First love, first kiss, first baby and first soiled diaper… They are all on Facebook for the world see, like and comment on.

If you didn’t post it, it never happened. If you didn’t ‘like’ it, you ignored them. If you didn’t post a comment, you never cared about them.

Facebook and Twitter are not websites anymore. They are oxygen cylinders. Lock people out of their account for one day, they will suffocate. Lock them out for a week, they will be as good as dead. If they lose their password, they will spend the rest of their lives resetting and securing it, or die trying.

That reminds me… what was my Facebook password?

…Where did I write it?

…Oh no! Where did it go?

…Gawd! What do I do now?

…OH NO! (Gasp) Can’t breathe… Need air…


-Dedicated to the Dimpy Angel and all my friends on Facebook

Posted in Life and After

Feeler: New Poetry Site

Hi All,

A friend and I have started a new site on traditional Urdu Poetry called Shayari. Please visit the site and let me know if you would like to see more of it through reblogs.

Main roz kai khwaisho ko apne andar dafan karta hu.

Jeena toh chahta nahi, par roz koshish zaror karta hu.


I bury my desires within everyday.

Don’t wish to live, but I try anyway.

Posted in Life and After

The First-time Mother

Hi, I am rebloging one of my older pieces from my earlier site. Apologies to those who already read it.

People say that women are born mothers. I disagree.

When it comes to being ‘born mothers’, there are two categories of girls: First, who love playing the babysitter to all toddlers in the vicinity, and second, who keep a minimum five feet distance from anyone on two legs below three feet.

I belong to the latter category. Even while playing ‘Home’ as a child, I never agreed to play the ‘mother’. It was too big a responsibility. Hence, while waiting for my first child, I was clueless about how to handle children. I had to conduct a lot of Google search to ensure I knew everything.

But nothing could have prepared me for the reality.

Being a mother is a difficult job anyway with the 24×7 food-potty issues. For me, it was akin to fighting a dragon with bare hands. A live bomb ready to explode any second for known and unknown reasons, she scared me out of my wits in the first month. I was scared that I might drop her, touch her too hard, leave her hungry, overfeed her or crush her beneath me while sleeping at night, or somebody else at home might do the same (the jaundiced eye…), or she might fall off the bed if I left her unattended for a nano‑second. There were a lot of other crazy fears that I had never experienced before.

On cold nights, she throws away her sheets and I spend the rest of the night covering her. God bless the person who invented diapers, else I wouldn’t even get the 3-4 hours of sleep at night that I get now. Ever since the fated day, I can be caught sleeping anytime anywhere. I remember this day when I was found asleep while standing against a pillar.

I feel a renewed respect for my mother and all the mothers who dare a second baby.

I love my daughter! I just wish she was not so much of hard work. On the day she was born, my mother said, “Your struggle has just begun.” With nearly one year out of the way, my daughter is gradually switching from crawling to walking, and the challenge is heightening from Beginner level to Professional level. I am beginning to wonder whether mother was referring to the rest of my life.

Well, fingers crossed!

Posted in Love

The Day You Died

I was in a shock, I think.


Holding the phone to my ear

With one hand,

I ironed the same dress

For an hour,

Until I saw the holes

Burnt through the fabric,

Much like my heart.


No, I don’t love you anymore.

I had that sorted out long back.

Until Now.


I sat down

On the pile of ironed clothes

And stayed there for another hour

Still clutching the phone

Close to my heart.

Waiting for something… someone…


No, I don’t love you anymore.

I had that sorted out long back.

Until Now.


Someone called, not sure who,

Confirming what I already knew.

“Of course, I am fine.

I got over him.”


I called my new love

To share what I felt.

“Of course, I’m fine.

I got over him.”


Of course, I don’t love you anymore.

I had that sorted out long back.

Until Now.


Not sure if I ate that night,

Not sure how I got to bed.

Not sure if I cried.

But I remember

Turning over my wet pillow

In the middle of the night,

The day you died.

-Dedicated to the one ‘I didn’t love anymore’ until the day he died

Posted in Love, Twisted Tales

Jealous Much?

Photo by Liana Mikah on Unsplash

She ate the apple and then slept like never before. All seven of us tried waking her up for days, right from gentle prodding to slapping and buckets of cold water, but to no avail.

After a few days, when the smell became too much (you don’t bathe when you sleep), we put her bed out so that the Sun will take away a bit of smell.

Then this guy came and kissed her. I guess, he was a bit smelly himself after so many days of being lost in the forest, so he didn’t mind the smell. She woke up and demanded to marry him right away! Why? Because he is tall?

Now, that’s a bit outrageous!

We put in all the work, give her food and lodging, take care of her while she is sleeping, bear with the smell… Then, one sunny day, he comes in on the horseback and he is all she wants? Because he is tall?

He is lost in the forest, dirty and smelly, and doesn’t know his way back home or how to put a cottage together. And still he gets the girl! Because he is tall?

Life is so unfair!

Posted in Life and After

The Autumn Tag

I have taken it up on me to take up this challenge suggested by my favourite fiction serial writer, Pete at He didn’t name anyone but I love a chance to blabber.

1. Hot Chocolate — what is your comfort book?
Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome: The jokes are still so relevant that whenever I am down, I just open any page and laugh my pain away.

2. Pumpkin Carving– what is your favorite creative outlet? 🎃
My blog: It reminds me that I am more than what meets the eye.

3. Falling leaves– changes that appear bad but you secretly love? 🍁
My duties as a mother of a 2-year old have me cribbing non-stop but, secretly, I love the job!

4. Pumpkin Spiced Latte– something you love that others tend to judge? 🍹
My time on blog is something my family complains about as a waste of time (Seriously?!) but I love it.

5. Bonfire Night– what makes you explode with joy? 🎆
When my daughter gives me a random kiss

6. Friday Night– favorite scary book or film?💗
I am not a scary story person… I would rather curl up with a romantic or comedy.

7. Halloween candy– favourite thing to eat? 🍭
Rasgulla and Choorma laddoo 🍪, not sure any of you had tried it though.

8. Scarves– your autumn must-have accessory?

My laptop and a book, nothing else is necessary.

9. Fire– a book or film that burns your soul? 💥
To Kill a Mockingbird: it talks about how people lower in social ladder are treated by higher ups, and unfortunately, how we all get used to it.

10. Toffee apples– a book or film that seems one thing but has a different inside?
The Lord of Flies: It seems like a survival story at first but turns out to be a political drama in an unrestrained society.

My question to you all, who will try this challenge next? I will love to know more about you.

Posted in Life and After

I am a Fly on the Wall

Hi, I am rebloging one of my older pieces from my earlier site. Apologies to those who already read it.

“As bystanders in the greater events of the world, what are we but mere flies on the wall.”

But flies know stuff, like where you hide candies from your son or when you lie to your wife that you ate the salad she sent for lunch while eating extra-sugary donuts. And they use it to their advantage.

And flies spread news. Have you ever paid attention to the strange humming noise when they gather in a place? Don’t mistake it as just flapping of wings… that’s Morse code!

Flies also have political opinions. They can choose to sit either on the palm of your hand, a flower, a bicycle or an elephant at their will. They can also decide against all of them in favor of a blank wall or a puddle of cow poop.

Also flies can… well, fly! They have wings. They just choose to stick close to familiar places, like your kitchen. But the flies with ambition are free to fly to faraway sweet shops to live their dreams.

Hence, we humans have more in common with the common fly than we will be ready to admit. I, for one, as admit… I am just another fly on the wall!

Posted in Life and After

Tiny Story: The Hairy Tale

For the record, he never asked me. And he was holding a sword when he cut my hair, tied them to the window and told me climb down. I couldn’t argue with him then. Would you?

I just got down the tower, still wobbly from the loss of half-my-bodyweight worth of hair, and am trying to walk straight on this uneven forest floor for the first time. And ‘what’s-his-name’ is already asking me to ride this… thing!

Never seen it before (living in a tower and all that) but it is…


Walks on both its hands and legs…

Doesn’t even wear clothes! Only a lock of hair covers its backside! Gross!

The nutcase tells me I must pat the ‘Orse'(?) to make it comfortable. I say, “No! I am still recovering from the loss of hair. I am not ready to lose a limb yet.”

Moreover, mother will be home any second now. If I can stall long enough, ‘what’s-his-name-again’ can turn into a delicious roast…

Posted in Life and After

Poetry: Liberated

I was washed ashore

When the rage subsided.

Your storm had stranded

Me on a lonely island.


The pain left me ripped up

My soul dried to bone.

I cried your name over

Hoping for your return.


There I waited to die

For an eternity,

Accepting defeat.


Until I heard the gulls cry

A song replete.


I looked at the colours

Play in the horizon.

As if in a ballet,

The world went on to spin.


Then I quit pining for you,

And rescued myself

To a better life

Without you…

Posted in Life and After

1.5 Dollar Playhouse

Things that make you happy don’t have to cost a lot of money.

I cut out a playhouse for my baby out of discarded refrigerator box and pasted coloured cardsheet and glaze paper flowers. It costed 100₹ (1.5 USD) and 2 hours.

Playhouses tall enough for my baby to stand in cost 5000₹ (75 USD) upwards.

Best part: She helped me create it.

Second best part: We can change the colour for another 100₹! I’m planning to add multiplication tables to the design.

Posted in Life and After

Tiny Story: Heaven

In front of their old rundown family farmhouse

9-year old son (incredulously): This is your ‘heaven’?

Father (in a conspiratorial tone): Did you ever jump over a fence, climb a tree, bathe in the river, play in a cave or own a real tree house?

Son (grinning ear-to-ear): When are we moving in?

Posted in Life and After

Tiny Story: The Visitors

Year 2115

A group of visiting monkeys peers inside the match-box sized houses.

Excited, a baby monkey cries out, “Look, Humans! Can I give them peanuts?” But his mother dissents and dishes out the standard ‘You mustn’t feed humans!’ lecture.

As usual, humans, glued to the widescreens (‘Game of Thrones season 104’ this time), stay blissfully unaware.

Posted in Life and After

Poetry: Chained

I am chained to you, my enemy…


Every day, I writhe and groan

My face an angry mask.

Beast rises with every pain

That ever came to pass.


I look in the mirror

And claw and tear,

I so wish you were dead

I’m close to tears.


Tug at the chains

And wish them begone,

Only to find

It’s not what I want.


I cry out in rage

And repeat,

Clawing at the mirror,

My nails bleed.


“Curse you! I will make you pay,

For reliving hell every day.”

Obsessed I wait to see

You grovel at my feet.


Then, I plaster a smile,

Pretending all is fine,

While I am still chained to you

Every second of my day,

My enemy…

Posted in Life and After

Tiny Story: The Dark Alley

Past midnight, in a dark alley…

I am being followed. Too scared to look back, I know it in my gut…

I should have waited for the other dancers to wrap up but there were too many creeps in the bar tonight, and I wanted to be out before they finished their drinks. Now, I have to pay.

Suddenly, my stomach feels empty. I am nauseas and cold sweat trickles down my spine.

“Do I run?

Do I turn back and confront?

Do I have my pepper spray?


Isn’t there an all-night medical store round the next corner?”

Hope rises in my heart. May be, just may be…

Suddenly I hear the footsteps quicken behind me and I break into a run.