Choice or Chance?

I’ve forever struggled with an existential question, is most of life sheer chance and destiny or do we have choices to make?  Are we mere puppets dancing to the tunes of destiny or is our life governed with the choices we make? It is so easy to blame circumstances and blame everything on sheer chance. Isn’t it? This stand saves us the responsibility of making difficult choices and living with their consequences.  But with time I have reached the conclusion it is much a dance between choice and chance, an intricate web of destiny and giving our lives a conclusive direction.  Destiny can only give us a framework and surreptious opportunities disguised as challenges. How we respond to these chance encounters is our conscious choice. Few of us have the courage to live down our choices and own up our mistakes. We need an  alibi or a scapegoat to incriminate and often circumstances or fate are the most common refuges. I wonder what if we don’t give ourselves an alibi or an exit route? If only we were to own up even the most messed up of choices and believe we are fallible ! Accept we are entitled to falter, yet dust our knees before we amble on. Own our entangled choices and brace up to face their consequences. If only…

The Parenting Jig

Nothing drills in us a sense of inadequacy as does parenthood.  Or rather motherhood. Especially in a country like ours where we’re always bothered about what will people think and we’re forever poking our nose in everyone’s business. As if in India we are programmed to play on people’s sense of insecurity and inadequacy. Relatives and ‘well-wishers’ hound you with comparisons of how XYZ’s kids is smarter, healthier, chubbier, quick to meet milestones! The list never ends. And as a first time parent you descend into a pall of gloom fearing you’re no good at this parenting jig.

But what is worse is when we as parents internalize these comparisons and start looking at what is missing in our children. When we allow these comparisons to get the better of us and we become exacting and demanding of the little beings that need nothing but unqualified love and acceptance from us.  When we begin to view our children with society’s lenses, we dilute their sense of individuality and uniqueness. Constant comparison is the death of uniqueness. We begin to treat our kids as projects instead of individuals. We enforce our standards of judgement and success on them rather than allowing their individuality to flower and for them to discover their own path.

There is absolutely no harm in reveling in your child’s achievements but no point turning them into puppets and asking them to conform to societal expectations of success, beauty or achievement.

Children are the happiest and most successful when they are allowed the space to make mistakes and the courage to make their own choices. We as parents forget we don’t own them; they are their own little people.  Loving them does not mean we control them or not let them fall. It means a safe space where we don’t judge them or compare them with someone else’s child.

More than a homily or rant, this is a reminder for me as a pre-schooler’s parent to allow him to grow at his own pace and set his own standards. I am hoping somewhere I don’t turn into a parent who expects her child to bear the burden of her unfulfilled dreams and half-baked desires. Sometimes hope is all we need.

The Working Mommy’s Dilemma

Back in college when I was an idealistic feminist, I was always told we women have to work twice as hard to prove we’re half as good as men. I would roll my eyes in sheer disbelief! And then the words echoed true when motherhood happened. Along with being flooded with a plethora of emotions primarily the nurturing instinct I became familiar to a perpetual feeling of guilt. It became a constant companion when I went to work leaving a cranky toddler or came back from work. Till it dawned on me, we women often prey to paralysis with over-analysis. Life is best lived when we go with the flow. What needs to be done has to be done sans guilt.  I realized how millions of working mothers walk a tight rope and often the noose is of their own mind’s making.

We allow ourselves to be shortchanged, when we aren’t considered for challenging assignments and are often given the excuse, how will you manage ? No one has the gumption to ask men how will they juggle parenthood and careers. Then why does the buck stop at women alone? Why do they get derisive stares when they want to leave early to pick kids from daycare or when they are on leave to tend to sick kids.

It is okay to delegate and ask for help. Both at work and on the personal front. You can’t be a lone ranger fighting a solitary battle. Having a strong support system works and what really helps is the close circle of non judgemental women who look out for you and egg you on to get it all done. Let’s lean on each other as we juggle the balls of work and life.

Work And Life

We are forever doing the trapeze walk between work and life. We are searching for that ever elusive balance between these two ends of the spectrum. This balance is like chasing a firefly, you’re never able to catch it! There are times when life becomes a lot of work and work becomes your life. With time it dawns on us neither is mutually exclusive of the other. The answers lie somewhere in the middle. We juggle, we falter, get our act together and keep walking. While scouring for answers I came across this evocative excerpt from former  US supreme justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s recent Stanford speech. Here is the link if you too are looking for answers Link to the video

Would love to hear back on how you figured it all out.

At Twilight


At the twilight

Of my existence

All that will haunt

Is not doing

What I want

Words trapped

At the back of my


Tears half shed

Masked beneath

A veneer of calm

Dreams that gathered

Dust beneath duty

And the mundane

The shadowy

Existential ghosts

Shoved beneath

The carpet

That never lay to rest

The Parenthood Journey

From smoothening the jagged edges

Of raw emotions

To have ourselves catapulted into

A volatile emotional jazz

Scouring the world to seek equanimity

To striving to become it

Meandering for meaningful existence

To finding it in the eyes

Of a pint sized doe-eyed baby

From looking for warmth

To find it in the tiny fingers that tug

At your heart strings

Traversing the globe

To have tiny footsteps

Leave eternal imprints

In erstwhile unknown

recesses of your heart

Pursuing warmth of home

In unknown alleys

To becoming your child’s safe place

On expression

Emotions are so transient and yet we allow them to get the better of us. Getting swept by a pool of tears or swamped by joy, or to experience soul seething rage, they govern so much of our existence. We deny, digress, avoid hoping these emotions disappear. Yet they surface and erupt like volcanoes, when we try too hard to escape them.

But the trouble is not expressing emotions, instead being asked to repress them. Ours is a society that exists on brushing everything under the carpet and pretending all is hunky dory. We’re judged when we say what we feel and often are conditioned to express ourselves in how society would like us to respond. Which is a sure-shot recipe for disaster. As I juggle the role of a parent I make a conscious choice to let my child express all emotions; the pleasant ones as well as the non-pleasant ones. Because with age it dawns on me it isn’t an anomaly to feel and express ourselves rather it is the lack of feeling and expression that is an aberration.

Life’s little lessons from my 1 year old

If there is anything I have learnt from life lately it’s been by observing my 1 year old gallivant about the place from close quarters. It keeps reminding me how societal conditioning and upbringing curbs our natural instincts. As children we know what life is all about, we just lose the plot during our journey into adulthood!

My son’s teaching me to wake up with a smile each day.

Seek pleasure and soak in joy in the small things in life

Cry when I fall but get up the very next moment as if nothing ever happened

Ask to be comforted when I am upset instead of expecting others to understand my need

Explore, be curious and be fascinated by everything new I encounter each day

Express my displeasure and delight in equal measure

Stand on my toes to reach greater heights and never give up

Be my unabashed, unrestricted self sans bothering how others judge me

These are just a few that come to the top of my head as I watch him scoot around reconnoitering and scrutinizing about the house with an endless energy, while I huff and puff to keep pace with my diminishing energy levels.

Digital Cleanse

Congratulations! If you just made time to read this you aren’t amongst those Indians who spend one in every four minutes logged onto social networking sites. It’s no exaggeration how the internet, smartphones and tablets have ensured we’re virtually connected digitally round the clock. From posting status updates on Facebook, to joining professional networks on LinkedIn, getting a flavor of news on twitter we’re hooked to our phones as if our life depends on them. Phew! There is barely any breathing space we give ourselves from our phones and laptops.

The irony is our virtual connections have overpowered our real relationships. We sleepwalk through the day like zombies staring into our phones. Forget finding time to connect with the people around us we’re all disconnected from ourselves too.

When was the last time you managed to enjoy a breath-taking view without wanting to capture it on Instagram? When was the last time you enjoyed a dinner with friends and family without caring to check-in on Facebook? If you can’t remember, perhaps you’d like to consider a digital detox? Have you ever contemplated spending only 30 minutes a day sans fiddling with a phone or clicking away on your laptop? 30 minutes to contemplate, connect with yourself and the people around you? Beam a real smile at the person who sits right across your desk rather than create several smiley emoticons at a joke cracked on WhatsApp? If that’s something you haven’t tried in a long time, perhaps give it a shot now.

Of an unintended sabbatical from the blog

This place has been languishing in neglect. The blog which was my sanctuary and sounding board is now a place I haven’t visited in nearly an year ! So the arrival of M in our  lives left me virtually at a loss for words or rather left me a tad too overwhelmed emotionally and physically to find time to write. Motherhood took me by surprise, never did I realize I was capable of feeling a plethora of emotions all at once. One little being was capable of throwing my perspective of life as it was leaving me flooded with a gush of emotions I had reconciled in the last three decades of my life I was incapable of feeling.He’s been catapulting my routine existence completely out of gear, I gush over baby blabber and clap my hands in delight at any sound, smile or milestone.  I am loving every bit of the chaotic and uncertain journey for once!

Coming back to the blog, I think I owe it to  myself to revive it and write more often. Let’s see for how long I am able to keep the resolve though!

Latent expectations

Unshed tears

Unspoken fears

Half-baked conversations

Simmering speculations

Feelings which were

Buried beneath the mundane

Forgotten smidgen of

Pleasure and pain

They lay strewn

And crumpled

In the creases

Of time that

Flows between us

They lie there

Restless and listless

Waiting to be embraced

Aching to be owned

Yet we amble on

In laden silence

Letting them hang

In the air pregnant with meaning

Waiting for them

To dissolve in

The foggy winter of

Our prosaic existence

The refusal to change

Something that I haven’t quite able to fathom is the Indian obsession with maintaining status quo. We will go all out to endure misery as long as it is familiar misery. The moment the possibility of change looms large in front of us, we retreat like shrinking violets. We’ll stay rooted in a rotten situation but will shun the possibility of the unknown at all costs. Whether it’s a troubled marriage or a job that sucks the very life force out of you; one is asked to endure it all rather than leap into unknown territory. Why are we so anti-change? Why do we hide under the carpet at the thought of being catapulted into new situations?
What is it that makes us so stubborn and so rooted in our situations? Perhaps our belief in good old karma keeps us from changing, we feel we’re paying for our sins and have no way out but to endure and labour through a despondent life situation. We refuse to entertain the possibility that we can choose to seize the situation and steer it to a better place. It is a strange learned helplessness that is passed on from generation to generation. We never realize, there is no merit in misery and making a martyr of oneself.
We glorify suffering and pain and then expect our future generations to pay the price for the sacrifices we made because we were too chicken to change. Yet we hide our cowardice under the glory of martyr hood and self-victimization. We think we’re being noble, when in fact we’re just being plain and simple rigid and refusing to flow with life. The quote floating around on the internet sums it up only too well, “We can’t see our chains as long as we aren’t moving.” Why don’t we realize that by opening up to new possibilities we open ourselves up to life? We can’t live by rigid rules and archaic notions only because they are familiar and comfortable. Because rigidity and in-elasticity only makes you say no to life’s possibilities and opportunities. You can exist in a cocoon but you can’t grow or live in it ever. Nothing ever grew in the shadows of the familiar and comfort except moss and molds.

From The Fringes

I choose to see life

From the fringes

Where there is

Neither love nor hatred

You just watch life

Unfold in its totality

In Its beatific beauty

And threadbare ugliness

In its charmingly wrapped deceit

And heart-breaking truths

I choose to watch life

From a quiet surreptitious corner

For I can’t muster courage

to take center stage and

Live it, feel it

From the core

The vagabond ways of life

Life seldom unfolds evenly. There are euphoric highs and abysmal lows. There are peaks and troughs. That is how each journey is meant to be. We take the rough with the smooth. There are days you wish you hadn’t woken up at all and days that feel like a nightmare from start to finish. And then there are days when we seem to cruise smoothly sans a hitch. There are days when we have it all going for us and days when our inner world and the one around us in crumbling into pieces without us being able to do anything at all and just amble on helplessly.

But demanding and disgruntled as we human beings are we only want to question the bad days and the dark days and seldom seem to raise any questions when the going is easy. We don’t realize life is no buffet spread where we choose and cherry pick what we want and how we feel. Instead life has its own menu and serves us its own varied spread which we’ve got to relish all the way, even if it isn’t always to our taste. Well some of us do think life owes us a lot. Sorry to disappoint you. It doesn’t owe us anything. Only we owe it to life and ourselves to gracefully accept all that comes our way and keep going. All moments are ephemeral and shall dissolve at the touch of time. Both good and bad will always touch us. The tough and the easy shall always follow each other around. Each moment, each incident has meaning and lessons that come with it. The prerogative is ours to draw the right kind of lessons and move on. The irony is uncertainty of what the future holds for us is disconcerting about life when the going is good and the same can be a source of comfort and solace on a not so smooth day.

All we need

All we need

Is a little wisdom

That the dark dreary nights

Will have a dawn


All we need

Is the faith

To be able to

Start from scratch

Be reborn


All we yearn

Is a little love

And approval

To mend

Our hearts

When they are torn


All we have

Is moments

And memories

When people are gone


All we’ve got

Is the choice

To dust our knees

When we fall

And move on

Reflections on acceptance


Romanticism has its pitfalls. All through my twenties I’d always keep assessing the reality of life, relationships and career vis-à-vis vague notions of what they ought to be in an ideal world. Until I realized that these fuzzy ideas I hold on to for dear life are nothing but the concoctions and contraptions of my overactive imagination and hyperactive mind. And it dawned that the ideal world was la la land of my creation.

It took me agonizing amount of time, several battles with myself and unwarranted heartache to finally figure out that the idea of how life ought to be and how it really turns out seldom meet. In fact forget meeting they are miles apart. There is really nothing you can peg life into. There is nothing you can compartmentalize, judge or assess life’s varied situations and people’s unpredictable reactions.After all who are we to assess? And isn’t life meant for living and experiencing rather than wasting it judging, comparing, making notes?

As long as we keep holding on to the notion of how it ought to be, life will always be less than perfect, it will leave us feeling cheated and dissatisfied. We’re letting go of even half a chance at relishing life’s bittersweet experiences. There is nothing we can do, but to go with the flow of things and gracefully accept what is thrown our way. There really is no harm in reflecting or mulling over our actions and reactions. But it is absolutely pointless to slot our life or compare it with zany ideas of how it should have or could have shaped up. People and situations will always be less than perfect, but that really is the charm of life. There is absolutely no one who can complete or fulfill us except ourselves. It is a trap we create for ourselves by waiting people to rescue us from self-inflicted miseries and make us happy. No one or no situation can act as a salve to our souls or make our existential angst or loneliness disappear. We have to falter our way through life, meander, make mistakes, fall down, cry our hearts out and finally find our own answers. Perfection is the biggest myth we feed ourselves and unfortunately our society reinforces it at each step. Making us wallow in the cages of endless self-pity and a bottomless pit of having unrealistic expectations being razed to the ground.

To love and accept people for who they really and not what we think they should be is perhaps the only way we find peace. We can neither cage people or relationships with expectations and naïve hopes. But we can certainly spare ourselves and others much heartache and drama with sheer acceptance and consideration.


Memories don’t live

In photographs

They nestle surreptitiously

In the quiet corners of our minds


Moments aren’t ephemeral

They stay inked in our hearts

For eternity


Feelings don’t fade away

They just learn to bury

Themselves under the

Insignificant debris of the mundane



Relationships don’t

Drift apart

They just gather different dimensions



People don’t change

They just don different

Masks and masquerade

As strangers


Hope doesn’t extinguish

It just blends with dreams

And weaves new realities
















Accepting the inevitable

Nothing makes us feel more fragile and helpless than not being able to reach out to people who matter in times of distress. It leaves one with an aching regret that we tuck away in a quiet dark corner of our being. We’re left thinking about if only life had shaped up differently. We let guilt set in; knowing all the way there is nothing we could have done to alleviate someone’s pain except reach out. We throw our hands helplessly in the air knowing not how to absorb what life’s throwing our way. Until we realize we never had a choice but to accept what life’s given us stoically even if with traces of reluctance.

Yet no matter how expected and foreseeable we can’t escape a sense of loss and the chasm that grief drills into our being. A sense of loss no matter how inevitable still leaves us with a throbbing emptiness. When we lose people who’ve been a part of our lives since we were little children, it feels like our memory and childhood is being amputated slowly. Nothing can punctuate the void again. The irreversibility of it all makes one feel even more abandoned.

We do so much to avoid and ignore pain. (Most of it in vain) We rationalize, deny or lose ourselves in the mindless humdrum of daily activity, yet in those quiet reflective moments the memories come back to haunt us. Nothing can alleviate hurt except yielding to it, allowing tears to wash over one’s soul is perhaps the only way one heals.



Between creases

Between boundaries

Between spaces

Between emptiness


Between love

Between anguish


Between hope

Between Sorrow

There is time

That flows

Sometimes like a silent river

Passing beneath

Bridges we build

Washing away

Walls we erect

Sometimes rolling like

A reckless stream


Roaring like impassioned waves

We do all we can to

Slow it down

Outstretching our hands

Tightening our fists

Around the sands of time

Thinking it’ll stay still

Yet it slips away

Sliding away from

Beneath   our  feet

Leaving stamped   memories

Weaving lasting moments

Leaving the creases

And crumples

Of age on our hearts

And faces

We do all

We can to defy its traces

The fallacies of freedom

We think we walk free

Yet we walk chained

And tied

To our perceptions

Enslaved by our prejudices

Confined by the limitations

Of our narrow minds

We think we are free

Yet we are caged

By our desires

A captive of our

Material possessions

Imprisoned in the

Glory of the past

Or trapped in

Nursing wounds

Of an embittered past

We think we live free

Yet we remain

Locked in an ennui

Feet firmly ensconced

in the arms of security

We trade our dreams

For money

Tuck away our

Streaks of madness

For the mask of

Social acceptability

And we all run together

Trying to ace an ephemeral race

On movement

As long as we’re moving we’re experiencing life. Whether it is moving places, moving jobs or moving on from things that no longer nourish or teach you anything, we feel alive as long as we’re moving. Staying rooted is for plants and trees not for human beings. In fact we need to move away from our roots to grow and mature. Leave the comfort of the familiar cocoon to experience life in totality. If we choose to stagnate and stay rooted we’re just growing old but choosing not expanding the horizons of our minds and souls. The realm of our experiences is limited and nothing ever grew between limitations and boundaries. We just end up reinforcing our preconceived notions and prejudices in familiar milieu and refuse to learn anything new. To nurture ourselves we need to step out of our bubbles, open up to unacquainted experiences, unfamiliar people. Change is the law of life and those of us, who choose to defy it, are choosing not to open ourselves up to experiences. Saying no to movements is saying no to life and all that life has to offer to us. This also holds true for those of us who cling on to past memories or glory. Our refusal to move on and accept our not so glorious present is living a sham. Living in denial can’t be a permanent address. It can be a phase for sure. We’ve got to learn to let go of the past, memories and experiences to make room for the new. Life is a process of constant self renewal and reinvention. Life opens up opportunities for those of us willing to anticipate and entertain them. For the rest of us it is a matter of staying stuck in the rut.

Dealing with Disillusionment

A philosophical viewpoint has always been my shelter and shade from life’s lows and unexpected turns. It has given me the space to ruminate and reflect rather than react spontaneously and has often been my anchor in the worst of times. Perhaps that’s what forces me to take stock when life doesn’t pan out as I hope it would. Often looking back I realize, sometimes being disillusioned and disappointed does you a world of good. Yes you heard me right. I’m not propagating self-flagellation or wallowing in the oceans of self-pity and cynicism. But somehow the twists and turns on the turf of life have taught me that every once in a while being disappointed with what life brings you, can alter your perspective. It forces you to take stock of what you’ve been doing and how you can do things better. It only inspires you on to approach life’s quandaries more creatively. Often we fall into the trap of being a tad too complacent, often only a disappointment can shake you out of your stupor and prevents you from being too self-assured and smug. We all need the blows to temper us down, bring us back to reality. Not to say we shouldn’t let them bring us down but they can certainly keep us grounded. So after all, there is an upside to everything that happens. We see it only when we want to see it.

The Mirage…..

Dreams that gather the

Dust of reality on a forgotten shelf

Ideals that reek of indifference

And cynicism

Running and pacing

To keep up with the mundane

While hopes and desires

Just wilt away in vain

Until we figure

We’re chasing a mirage

We don’t know what

We want

And we seldom

Know where we’ll get

Yet we’re dashing

In pursuit of that

Ephemeral security

which was sold

To us in a glossy packet

Until we can no

Longer run anymore

And we figure

All this one big

Hoax, a societal racket

To ensure we blend

With the crowd

And don’t dare

To stand out

So that we’re lost

In the milieu

And never raise a cry

Or hue

But often by the time

Does this dawn

Our dreams are too stale


And gone

A note to my younger impulsive self

As I touched the third decade last week, there was this incessant need to take stock, look back and reflect on all the foolish notions I held so dearly. I can’t help and laugh at how impressionable and wide-eyed I was.

If there is one thing I would want to tell my younger impetuous self it would be not to invest time in equations and relationships that are a one-way street. You can’t keep giving. Most relationships need to be mutual to last long enough. You can’t keep giving without expecting anything in return. We’re all human at the end of the day let us not try to be ascetics when we’re not.

I would also like to tell myself to be more discerning of people and situations. Don’t look after you’ve leap. It is better to take your steps slowly and steadily.

Go with the flow. Irrespective how well you treat others, you can’t accept the same in return. Know where to draw the line for yourself and for others.

Idealism is good, it might fade with the touch of time, but never let enthusiasm and zeal to try anything new fade with it.

Most of our limitations, all that holds us back looms large in our head. Half the battles we fight are the ones we fight with ourselves. We can be our own best allies and worst enemies. It all boils down to how we perceive ourselves and our circumstances.

Don’t waste your time being self-conscious and worrying about what other people will think of you. Immaterial and irrespective of how hard you try they will like you or detest you based on their own perceptions and prejudices. Don’t try too hard to win other people’s approval. Try instead to do what you love, be what you want. You can’t live a path someone else has charted out for you. It is a sure shot way to fall flat on one’s face.

Being sensitive doesn’t mean being thin-skinned for ourselves. It is being sensitive to other people’s needs to. The world doesn’t revolve around you. Speak to others as you would like to be spoken to.

I can rant on endlessly, for the sake of time I’ll pause for now and perhaps come back later to rant some more 🙂





In the arms of melancholy

It beckons

You in its folds

Enveloping you

In its outstretched arms

Seeking the

Vulnerable corners

Of your being

Encircling your tender heart

In concentric circles

It gazes at you longingly

With hazel eyes

Hounds you till you yield

Probes you till you bend

To its elfin charms

Haunts you

Till it engulfs you

Melancholy is

An enticing mistress

It chases you till

You succumb

Life’s Whirlwind Dance

Twirling through the days

Whirling through time

We run through life

As if there’s no looking back

Mindlessly chasing ephemeral goals

Asininely running through streets

Cobbled with dreams and desires

We run and fly

Sans a pause or sigh

Seldom stopping by to listen

To the song of our hearts

Never pausing to appreciate

Nature or art

We think we’ll win the race

Only to evaporate

In the masses sans a trace

In the cocoon of words

Between the dredges of freedom

And the chains of security

Between life’s stagnant ways

And rapidly changing days

Between transience

And permanence

In the folds of cynicism

And the circle of hope

In the euphoric peaks

And the abysmal troughs

Floating amidst dreams

And dragging through reality

In the companionable silences of faith

And disconcerting conspiratorial

Whispers of doubt

Floating in joy

And soaking in sadness

Amidst the gossamers of togetherness

And the tatters of loneliness

It was words that kept my sanity

It was only words that set me free

On Awkward Expressions

Emotions and I had very awkward beginnings. When I think back to my childhood, I used to be that shrinking self-conscious violet who would cringe while being hugged by her mom at the bus stop waiting for the school bus to come. Any kind of public display of affection had me running miles away. I was way too self-conscious and almost impassive. Be it love or grief I chose to cover it under a veneer of stoicism. I don’t know why but I grew up with the misconception that any display of emotions leaves you weak and vulnerable. That is rather strange for my gender, since most women are wired to feel and express more compared to men. I thought I had it all sorted one could walk through life masking what one really felt. But time and experiences ensured such fuzzy notions flew right of the window. I realized true strength lay in being your authentic self. In expressing what you felt: grief, sadness, anger, joy or love.

Emotions aren’t pickles that you bottle them and preserve them in an arid corner of your heart. You were meant to flow with them. To let grief wash your heart. To let the waves of joy splash all over your soul. To soak in the seas of sadness and float on the boat of hope is a part and parcel of our existence. That is the essence of life. To feel, express and move on. We do no one but ourselves a lot of harm by suppressing how we really feel. The emotions brew within like a vortex and then erupt like a volcano. We think we can go on living like the pigeon who thinks by closing its eyes the approaching cat won’t eat it. But not only does that make you miserable within but holds you back from relating authentically with the people who matter to you. I don’t know what prompted me to rant about feelings and expression. But I am only glad that life taught me otherwise. That I finally learnt to express and to let go and the realization that strength never lay in silent endurance instead it lies in learning to be vulnerable. To bare our ugly souls to the world and yet live in the security we will be loved in spite of how we feel. I might not be quite there but still learning to tap the resilience that comes with letting your defenses down.



Chasing a mirage called security

Seeking the stamp of approval

And permanence from society

We tie ourselves in knots

Chaining people with expectations

Worrying about what will be

Watching the present slip by

Into oblivion’s sea

We soak in the glory of

A fading past

Our effort is to drag

On to ensure we

Walk the trodden path

Till the very last

We delude ourselves

Into chasing stability

Knowing little life

is in fits and starts

It dances alive in the

Ephemeral and momentary

Ephemerality of Life

It is strange how we learn to value people only when we know we are going to lose them. Only when life begins to ebb out of the people we love do we realize how much they matter and how little we can do to alleviate their pain. We look on helplessly and watch them endure pain and suffering. This is when the past comes back and brings back the moments and memories we shared with them. It is as if the floodgate of memories open and everything from the past gushes out washing over our arid minds. We hope against hope praying a miracle will see them through. Yet little do we realize that sometimes we hold on to people out of our own selfish neediness. All of life and death are nothing but learning the act of accepting our helplessness and learning the art of letting go. Perhaps learning to let go is the hardest act of all, it makes us aware of how weak and helpless we really are. It tells us all our meticulous planning and designs of how we would like life to be are just a mirage; an illusion that makes us feel as if we are in control of our lives. Life has its own plans and designs that unfold with time. Perhaps all we need to do is relinquish control and flow with where life takes us. Yet we hold on with all our might to familiar situations, people and places. Because familiarity breeds security, we find solace and strength in familiarity.

The realization that life is so fragile and uncertain dawns on us in our weakest moments yet we keep running without acknowledging this fact. We think we can control everything and yet death and birth are something we have little control over. We lead vulnerable uncertain existences yet we demand security and surety for everything. It is our fallacies that tell us we can control everything! But life and death teach us it is yielding and molding ourselves with time that sees us through the peaks and troughs of life.

Our lopsided Indian ways

Our society has its own share of eccentricities and idiosyncrasies. Every once in a while I can’t help but observe them and ponder over them. Life is trodding along smoothly yet some instances always surface now and then forcing one to think whether we’ve actually progressed or are still trapped in a time bubble refusing to budge from how we view the world, digging in our heels while insisting how we view the world is how it ought to be.  Being reared to question instead of conforming and thinking instead of toeing the trodden line can be quite an aberration in our country. It only makes matters worse. For the life of me I am unable to fathom why most of our country is still trapped in a time warp. We refuse to let go of how things should be a certain way. Any fluctuations from the designated path are seen as abnormal.  We weave a framework for ourselves and the people around us. Anyone outside that frame is an outcast. We’re eager to shun anything that threatens our patterned mundane way of thinking.  We love to glorify miseries,  sing paeans of  sacrifice and then expect our progeny to do the same for us.  To seek pleasure is to walk the path of decadence, so is to follow one’s heart. Our  duty is to obey and please people who are senior to us in age and stature.  We have this ambiguous sense of what morality entails. And “being good” and morally upright comes with its own baggage. The baggage of pomposity and self-glorification and righteousness. The view that how we’ve lived life is how others ought to. Self-denial is seen as the supreme goal of our lives. We are so willing to demolish dreams at the altar of duty and then expect our future generations to do the same. We still let gender decide an individual’s destiny and course of life. Not sure if we pass on values and ethics from one generation to another but we certainly hand over our prejudices, our rigidity and our biases only too gladly. If you refuse to lap up these gracefully be ready to get an earful. We’re so ingrained in our stick in the mud attitude that change is shunned as  an outsider. How long will we stay wedded to status-quo let other people decide the course of our lives and stay ingrained in passivity ?  Perhaps forever. We’re so eager to label  and anything radical, different or new as ‘evil’, dangerous or threatening. Our refusal to budge from our stances is seen as being sure of what we want while it is merely sheer pig headedness.  What makes me so sad is to see people of our generation to fall prey to such fallacies and archaic notions. We seldom gather the courage to voice what we feel since it is easier to conform and get validation for doing so. But who ever said that what is easy is the best for us?


On pausing and finding time to reflect….


It is strange how most of life shall only make sense in retrospect. After life has happened to us the whys and how suddenly begin to make sense. We find answers to all questions that haunted our minds.

But all of this seldom makes sense in the realm of action. When we are in the middle of chaos, in the whirlwinds of change we just get pulled in to dance with the winds. Without having time to breathe let alone finding time to pause and make sense of where life is headed. Yet when storms have passed and the dust begins to settle. Leaving us partly broken, partly wiser it all begins to fall into place. The missing pieces fit snugly in harmony. But by then we’ve written off, given up on what we want till we discover this glimmer of hope to hang on to. And we hang on to it with all our might.

Only to realize that all life asks of us is to learn to let go. To let go of how we think life ought to be, of our fixed ideas, our prejudices and notions. To let go of it all and flow like water. Become supple and nimble souls that go with the flow of life without letting it break us, yet enriching everything we touch. All these realizations dawn only in the surreptitious and quiet moments of introspection.

Such moments are far and few because we prefer to succumb to the maddening and frenetic pace of action. To lose ourselves in our work, drown ourselves in frivolous worries and speculate mindlessly. We chose not to think and feel and rather act and react. It takes courage to think, to reflect, look at ourselves sans blinders as well as look at the people we love objectively. It asks of us to look at ourselves and our existence in the mirror and have our vulnerabilities and weaknesses stare right back at us. It takes strength to be vulnerable. But our social conditioning ingrained it in us that true strength lies in denial, in masking what we really feel and want. So we run mindlessly, chase ephemeral dreams and desires yet nothing quells the restlessness within. Instead of chasing a path the world charted for us if only we could find courage to succumb to our impulses, chase silly dreams and just be our true authentic selves sans the fear of censure and non-acceptance. If only….

An Ode to the turbulent twenties-1

With less than 3 months to go as I edge towards the dreaded yet much anticipated third decade of my life. I can’t help but look back at the turbulent and tumultuous twenties. I left the comfort and warmth of home, moved cities, got a job,made mistakes, faltered, realized what an emotional fool I am, changed two jobs, fell in love, got married, traveled, learned to take a stand for myself. This list could probably run into pages. Too much happened in this time, it makes me even breathless to recall it all !

It is strange how we change intrinsically with time without realizing it at all. If I meander back to my early twenties I was a die-hard optimist peeking at the world with my rose-tinted glasses. Time and experiences tempered this optimism with a lot of realism.  Time taught me to have realistic expectations of people, life and the world at large. As I now edge towards the big 30 I’m none the worse for it. Realism has left me in a happier and less restless space. Yet that strange restless urge nestles in a corner somewhere and takes charge of me every now and then. I miss the heady feeling that told me I could change the world. Now I just  make peace by changing how I respond to the world. Much to my chagrin.

Earlier  I would be befuddled and wide-eyed by perpetually everything. But time has taught to do all of the rolling of the eyes and raising eyebrows in my head while maintaining a calm exterior. Time has also mellowed down my spirit. I no longer react strongly  to people’s idiosyncrasies and quirks ( although the voices in my head still react but I manage to quiet them self deprecatingly). My impatience might not have been tamed but time has almost taught me to conceal it.

Sometimes I miss the whip-lashing feminist I was. Mouthing women’s rights in college while carrying around a copy of Germaine Greer’s  Beauty Myth .The present day me has settled for egalitarianism ( that too is a distant dream in a country like ours that is caught in a time warp) We still have different rules for different genders.

Earlier I couldn’t quite fathom why people are a certain way. Let’s say experiences brought home the fact that it is none of my business. If the twenties taught me anything it would be to live and let live and let  peace prevail.

I could keep looking back at life and  ambling on endlessly but for now let me just get back to work and end my rant here.



Spilling over


Every statue can crumble

Every wall has cracks

That we try so hard to conceal

Every eye has unshed tears

That well up and flood the heart

Each smile has sadness

Outlining its edges

That we try so hard to rein

Boiling rage beneath

A calm veneer that

We struggle to contain

Yet the cup of forbearance

will flow over some day

When you’ve borne

Life with stoicism

For too long

You’re cries

will echo on

Notes to my impetuous self

This blog is  officially dying and needs resuscitation now! Its been languishing in neglect. I haven’t written in ages. Either words and thoughts simply evaporate or I get so caught up in life’s madness that it just slips into oblivion. It isn’t really by choice that I don’t pause to pen down what’s on my mind. In fact to write and express myself is an overpowering need. I’m a spectator and watch life from my quiet corner, drawing my own inferences, jotting them down on paper or on my blog. This space is sacrosanct for me for here I can say all that I won’t muster guts to say in real life. Yet I seem to have pushed it into a corner allowing myself to become procrastinator.

As the year starts I have only one resolve that is to write more often and to write stuff that makes sense. Resolutions otherwise are passe for me, for they fly right out of the window in the very first fortnight of the year. However there are things I know but don’t practice so I’d rather write them down here to constantly remind myself of these all year-long. Let me start 1) Good things and all that counts always takes time, so be patient and stop jumping the gun when it comes to conversations and ideas. Don’t anticipate too much. Life is fair, but only if we give it time to unfold.

2) Don’t put your foot into your mouth.  Keep silent if you have nothing sensible to say.

3) Abandon your sweet tooth and penchant for emotional eating. It’s going to be a source of much misery and unwanted inches around the waist  as you inch closer towards the thirties this year.

4) Let go of all that you no longer need : redundant emotions, dead relationships, putting too much onus on how people assess you and zany airy ideas about the world at large

5) Learn to confront your demons, your darkness and learn to confront people when you disagree with them. You can’t live life in the avoidance mode.

6) Being restless for change is good, but don’t let the present moment turn into a saga of longing for the future. Live in the moment.

7) Quit allowing people to prick you .Stop being  ready to burst into tears at the silliest of excuses. It’s often not what they say but how you interpret it.

8)  Stop thinking in retrospect of all the witty retorts you could have made in an argument. Give back as good as you get at the right time.

9) Being content is good, until it starts to tilt towards complacency.

10) Trust your intuition but don’t allow it to colour your judgement of people and situations.

11) Spontaneity is good, but it isn’t the same as being mindlessly impulsive.

12) Every once in a while step out of the mindless rut and routine to look at your life objectively from a distance. Make time to reflect, ruminate and re-assess.

I can rant endlessly about all that I need to learn and remember but for sake of sanity I’ll stop right here and come back in a few days to write something more structured perhaps.

Another year…

Another year ambles on

Punctuated with somber silence

Splashed with varied shades

Flooded with memories

And moments that shall melt into oblivion


Another year flows through

The river of time

Rushing back once

In a while in  nooks

And crannies of dismembered thoughts

Another year brimming

With love

Aching with longing

Another year asking

Of us to flow

With the waves of time

Wounded Silence

Words fester

In recesses of


Aching to find an outlet

Meandering along

to find their way out

Only to retract

Retrace their steps and

Curl back in the womb

They amble their way home

To rest in crevices of our hearts

Nestling in the warmth

Of the comfort of not

Having stirred a storm



Drifting with time

Sometimes when the winds of time

tug at your souls

urging you to fly with them

Just drift away

Don’t stall their pace

Don’t resist their pull

They’ll churn your life

and swirl your soul

but take you to a better place

Canvas of life

The traces of pain

smidgens of passion

inked on the canvas

of our lives

Blend with the colours of love

and the shades of


They twirl together

aching to spill over

from the brim of

our hearts

Yet we mask it all

in the garb of pragmatism

and  greys of reality

Marring the masterpiece

we could paint with our hearts.

Sands of Time

The flowing river of time

Stops for none

Waits for none

A gushing stream

It meanders beneath willowy bridges

And flows between the walls we build

Cavorting us to its capricious rhythm

Spinning us to its whimsical tune

We amble on and watch in a blur

How dazed days

Blend into inky sepulchral nights

And the soft dawn melts into mellifluous mornings

Before we know we’re at death knell

Sans an inkling  of how life passed us by in a flash

Love doesn’t die

Love doesn’t die

It hides in nooks and

Corners like an errant

Insolent child

Waiting to be humored

And indulged again

Love doesn’t fade in a flash

It languishes silently

Flickers quietly like an ephemeral flame

Waiting to be resurrected

Love doesn’t walk

Out of the window

It is jostled and pushed

Beneath the carpet

Of guilt and unspoken feelings

Beneath the comfortable

Couch of conjecture and assumptions

Love doesn’t break down

It fumbles and stumbles

Waiting for us to reclaim it with

A firm hand and a steady glance

Walk it back to where it belongs

Dancing Demons

We seek refuge

In togetherness

Drown ourselves i the noise

And din of daily existence

Thinking it’ll quell

Our loneliness

Thinking it’ll drive away

The shadows that consume us

Intimacy and attachment

Are but mirrors

Where we see our ugliest

Demons come alive

And stamp at our weary

Weathered souls

They whisper into

Our impressionable minds

Feast on our supple thoughts

Until we no longer pay them heed

And watch with detached longing

As into the distance they

Begin to recede.

Find a home

Find a home

for your feelings

Give them a cushion

to rest on

A corner to set roots in

Let them meander through

the corridors of your mind

Hold them close

till they seep through

your weary bones

Inhale them in

Till they fill

depths of your soul

Open windows

of your heart to air

feelings that gather dust

and let them fly

Dealing With Uncertainty

We’re forever fighting these battles in our mangled minds where we walk the tightrope walk between knowing and uncertainty. The divide between wanting to know what the future holds or waiting for each day to unfold and taking it head on .I often wonder how would it have been had we known what the future held? If we could see through the tricks and antics that time had up its sleeve? Or if we could unravel the surreptitious glances that the future throws our way ? Would life be any better? I don’t know about  better, but it sure would have been writ large with monotony and have us trapped in the rut of predictability. There would be nothing to wish or hope for and no sense of anticipation for the future to unfold. We’d be weary beings treading through a stagnant existence. That brings us back to how life is now uncertain, ever-changing and ridden with complexities, challenges that unfold each day. Perhaps that really is the essence of life and we’re meant to take the bull by the horns not knowing what direction it’ll take tomorrow. Perhaps life is all about dealing with uncertainty and insecurities and overcoming these determines how we grow and mature as individuals. Because comfort and predictability are but a trap that can ensnare our hopes and dreams and keep us rooted in stagnation. While uncertainty asks of us to bend, twist and change with circumstances which is what keeps us moving with life and staying flexible. Taking on and relishing each new experience, experimenting with things we’d never fathomed we were capable of enjoying and basically stretching the limits of our minds and perception.

Shared Silence

Words that fester

In recesses of


Aching to find an outlet

Meandering along

to find their way out

Only to retract

Retrace their steps and

Curl back in the womb

Amble their way home

To rest in crevices of our hearts

Nestling in the warmth

Of the comfort

That they didn’t stir

A storm and

Violate sanctity of shared silence

Have you ever wondered?

Have you ever wondered?

Where do words

Choked in our throats go?

Where do

Unshed tears find a home?

Where do the feelings

That touch tip of our tongue

But don’t find a voice

Nestle and snuggle?

Where do the thoughts

We push to deepest crevices

And unknown corners of

Our lonely hearts disappear

They slip into darkness

They fade into shadows

They dance beneath

Placid surfaces and veneers

They hide between

Dark walls and dense

Fences that hold

Niggling doubts

And cavernous fears

Idiosyncracies of the Indian way of life

We live in a bubble. Firmly ensconced in an ideal world. In our educated and emancipated existence we rarely come in touch with ground reality. We know little that unlike our progressive families and friends, most of our fellow Indians live an alternate reality. One where there is space for only literal minds, where there is little room for change. If you’re born in India and were raised to question rather than accept or be submissive, you will have trouble like me digesting a lot of what we encounter in daily life. While I was an adolescent I thought we were a country where both men and women are on equal footing. So wrong I was! As I met and interacted with people across cities, the fact dawned home. It is only a minority which has made progress the rest of us are either trapped in a time warp or are constantly regressing. Over the years I couldn’t help making mental notes of the quirks, idiosyncrasies, paradoxes and irrationalities that come with being quintessentially Indian. There are several things that come with being Indian that I find hard to fathom and swallow. And when I think of them I feel so alien and can’t seem to relate with these ideologies.

– Our business is everyone’s business- Apparently we’re so awkward at social conversations that the only way we relate with people is by asking questions such as how much they earn, when will they marry, if married when will they have children? This is our notion of relating with extended family and friends. In my mind this shall tantamount to being downright nosy and intrusive.

– Another ones that comes close it apparently the concept of space is non-existent in the Indian scenario. If you give space to a loved one perhaps you’re not loving enough or don’t care. Or even worse they think you’re being negligent and apathetic. You can only show love by being omnipresent and by hand-holding people you care for. The bottom-line is we are scared of letting our loved ones gain autonomy because we feel that will translate into them being distanced from us.

– Since space is an unknown term so is individualism. The rise of the individual is seen as a threat to the community and great Indian family. And it is fashionable to hate people who are not from your religion or community. We don’t know what to make of those who look different, eat differently and think differently. Such people threaten us so as a defense mechanism we label them and keep safe. The good ones are those from our community, family background, and socioeconomic strata. Because they don’t threaten our perception and we end up reinforcing either others’ warped ideologies or insecure rigid belief systems.

-You’re not supposed to live for yourself or your dreams. If you dare to do so you’re labeled selfish and egocentric, it is all about following the path our ‘well-wishers’ have for us. No wonder we balk at people who’re different and encourage our children to follow a beaten track, burdening them with the weight of our expectations and dreams. And unfortunately the vicious cycle extends from generation to generation.

– We glorify pain and suffering in silence. This comes with a rider, only when it comes to women does silence is seen as a virtue. Women who grin and bear it in silence are the idealized while the one who are more human are looked down upon. On the other hand we raise our men with a sense of entitlement. As if they own the world and women were born to serve them. They’re also dehumanized. If a man doesn’t conform to the stereotypical notion he is made fun of. If he’s sensitive, likes art or cooks he’s a dandy and not ‘man enough’.  The only emotion men are reinforced to display is aggression. If they express love and care they are mocked at. What make it worse is the rigid roles and stereotypes that our society defines for both men and women. If you don’t fit the stereotype, all hell breaks loose. Men too bear the brunt of social conditioning. A happily married daughter is a trophy to flaunt to the world, but a happily married son is a threat. Because our society thinks if he’s too involved in his marriage and in making his wife happy, he will neglect duties and responsibilities of a good Indian boy. The male child is supposed to be a caretaker, an investment for one’s old age. He is manipulated, twisted and asked to give up his dreams since he was rendered preferential treatment while being raised. The dichotomy doesn’t end here, the kind of life we wish for our daughters is the exact opposite of what we wish for from a daughter-in-law.

– The only kind of love our society is capable of accepting is maternal. If you’re a woman and your heart doesn’t overflow with the fountain of maternal love, something is wrong with you. Go figure. The concept of a couple even a married one in love is not acceptable. A couple marries to fulfill duty and produce progeny not for love, companionship and all such ‘western ideals’. That is how moralistic we are. All other kinds love is relegated to the status of being immoral, not to be discussed publicly or downright shameful and dishonorable. I still see people cluck in disapproval at “Love Marriages” (Another indianism why would anyone marry for anything but love?) They veil them under some pretext and talk of it in hushed tones.

– Since we balk at and fear individualism, everything linked to it is nonexistent for us: individual freedom, creativity, following our dreams. These are the biggest threats looming large to our good old Indian culture and tradition and are conveniently shoved under the carpet. You live your life for the happiness of others and not your own. That is the message which is conveyed in a very subversive manner from generation to generation.

– We can only preserve the Indian culture by fostering dependence and propagating fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the outcomes of not following the path of becoming a good Indian girl or good Indian boy. Yes religion is also used to make people more fearful .So we’re good not cause we want or choose to be but because we fear the consequences that come with being bad or in other words following your heart

– We’re obsessed with fair skin of women. Our advertising, our matrimonial ads, media is bombarded with images of tall fair slim women who seem to be the paragons of virtue and beauty. We fear dark skin because it is mysterious, alluring and we don’t know what to make of such beauty.

– Another recurring Indian fixation is a man’s pay packet. It is his ticket to a trophy wife. . Such a man is a prize catch for your daughter. He earns the respect of everyone and is looked at with respect. No one cares to think or ask whether he’s happy doing what he is. That is immaterial and beside the point. You are known by your material worth and possessions. What you think or feel doesn’t count

– The only acceptable way of expressing affection and love we know is by force feeding the people we care for and stuffing them with food. We eat when we feast, we eat when we fast. Yes such is our relationship with food.

– With food comes the great Indian wedding preoccupation. That is why you were born, to get married. And you don’t get married till you throw a lavish wedding feast for people you’re never likely to meet again in your life. And not to forget you have to load your daughters with at least a car else you’re stingy especially if you’re North Indian. And no the fact that you educated her and made her capable to earn a living doesn’t count. The man who marries her isn’t expected to have half a spine or self-respect to say he doesn’t want anything. He’s more than willing to accept such gifts. And mind you this is an expression of parental love!

– Terms like privacy and intimacy are alien to our ilk. We thrive on crowds, groups and congregations. Where men interact with men and women with women.. Quiet people, shy people have no space in our society. They are labeled as ‘not so social’ or arrogant, if you please. Have no secrets and share everything with everyone. That is the typical Indian way of life. Thanks to Facebook you don’t need to meet extended family in person they can keep themselves updated about your lives on the internet, irrespective of whether you’d like to share it or not.

– We don’t live; we merely exist passively without making half an attempt to change all that we feel is wrong with our lives. After all it is Karma which led us where we are. We wait on till Karma comes and bites us back.

– We are such a crowd-centered lot that we let majority of aberrations pass since this is what the majority of our people endure it. No one questions, everyone is just expected to conform to norms. This is most dangerous because patriarchy, women’s inequality and violence against women are something most people accept as a given. Just because it happens with the majority of people we know, doesn’t mean it is acceptable and right.

This is by no means a social discourse just a few observations I have made over the years. How we as a society just aren’t willing to let go off the prejudiced lenses we see the world is. What is worse is we want to pass on the legacy of these prejudices to our children. We want them to conform and obey as we did. We want their lives to be a replica of ours. But this vicious cycle needs to stop somewhere. Someone needs to question, not conform, think not obey. And that someone has to be us, our generation. Yes the onus to change all that’s wrong with our society rests with us. The buck stops nowhere but here, with all of us.

Falling Apart

We spend

Our days ironing

Out creases from

From our frayed existences

Smoothing jagged

Edges of our rough-smooth lives

Polishing surfaces

To contain

Tumult and turmoil

That blends within

Churning our weary souls

Burning our core

We gloss over words

Push feelings under a carpet

So that the world

Doesn’t see the

Skeletons crumble

Out of our creaky closets

We walk a tightrope

Do an uneasy tango

With our emotions

Masking them beneath

A stony stoic veneer

Beneath which lays

Simmering rage

And teary eyed fear

We amble on

Rubbing our hands

In glee

Thinking we can

Fool them all

And walk away


Till abandoned

Emotions and

Buried feelings

Knock at our innards

Wrestle with our minds

And snowball

Into fierce fiends

And menacing monsters

We no longer can contain

Unleashing onto

Unsuspecting people

Our smouldering wrath

And festering pain

Ephemeral Reflections

What is so disconcerting and unsettling about life ? The fact that nothing is permanent, feelings don’t come with a guarantee, people change and move on, situations are ever evolving. But when the skies of our life are overcast and grey and when a day turns not so right and you want the moments to melt into sheer nothingness. Push the discomfort out of our consciousness, we pin our hopes on this impermanence. We seek comfort in this transient ephemeral nature of our lives. The fact that no two days will ever be alike. What was once unsettling suddenly becomes the source of reassurance and hope. The transient nature of life remains the same, only our perspective towards it takes a paradigm shift. If it is a happy moment we keep on clinging to it forever and if it is darkness and despair we’re so eager to push it to the recesses of forgotten memories. What if we were to treat both joy and despair with an equal sense of detachment ? Knowing that neither of them are forever, won’t that make life more liveable? I don’t have the answers yet, but that surely won’t keep me from seeking them.

Life in a metro

Cities where we chase our dreams

Have streets scattered with broken dreams

Cities which open up the world to us

Are where many a worlds collapse

Cities where we find a living

Are the ones where we lose our soul

Cities that give you the freedom of anonymity

Have rivers of loneliness flow through them

Cities where you give flight to your ideas

Drown us in their noise and din