Shout our hearts out

I see the words you write, the songs you sing, the music you create, and the dreams you see and show. It’s a beautiful melancholy and a grand familiarity.

It feel like I am a kid again looking at the vast sky and thinking if I was just a little bigger I’d take the brightest star in my hand and shine just as bright.

The beauty you create is visible but it is also the vulnerable piece. You let people like me, who can’t put their thoughts out clearly, have a chance to show and shout our hearts out.


I’m sorry to bother you

I have so much to say but most of them do not make sense, even to myself.

I am constantly tired. By myself. I know all of us have our inner monologue but are any of you ever tired of it?  Because I am pretty much am done with mine. I used to call the voice in my head ‘Bob’ after the adorable minion. Up until that point, my head voice – non-stop commentator – was nameless.

‘Bob’ is just me if I were to have the courage to be quirky and witty. I can definitely say that I enjoy people who are quick on their feet. I’d need a 2 months notice before anything funny and sassy comes out my mouth. It is like my brain and my mouth has no connection at all.

The voice in my head sounds like the one I want to have in my real life but I have had enough of it. These days I have to keep myself occupied to stop Bob from talking to me. These days he asks a lot of questions that I don’t possibly have answers for and it was new and intriguing at first then it started to give me headaches. Now it just gives me sleepless nights. If I don’t keep busy and occupied, the personal questions asked starts to haunt me and I break down crying and shaking. Then it gets real dark. Like to the point where I’m made to feel like I am worthless and this is the best I can be. It’s a downward spiral from there.

This happened to me for months before I realized it was happening to me. For months, I was tired, sad and with no intention of doing anything what so ever. I did not want to eat. I could not sleep. I will just simply start crying every chance I could. I liked being alone and confined. Because I was not good enough to be with friends and family. I would think about how good it would have been if I had not been born at all. Or If I had run away from home like I had planned when I was a child maybe I’d not be a burden to my parents. I would also curse out my brother, mother, and friends for not being able to stop bothering me and not being able to see that I was in pain when I assured them I was good. I would hug myself and rock back and forth saying ‘it’s okay. I am a good person.’  with tears rolling down my eyes in a dark room.

I have repeated this sentence so many times that it may have lost its meaning. But, it did get me to read something and recognize that there are others that go through this as well. Before we panic, let’s say I don’t know what it is that makes me feel like that or most of us but I am working on it and slowly figuring things out. As of now, I have told a couple of people and they did suggest to go to a doctor. I am too scared to go to any doctor as of now. I am not sure what I am afraid of, that if I actually have something or if I am just making this up for some twisted reason.

Until then breath in and breath out for one day at a time.


It is a weekly hang on a Saturday night with 2 of my ladies. We all gather at whoseever place is free. This week was my turn. The calls and texts start around 5 PM like it does every week.

Even though we always end up cooking the food late in the night, it will always start with ‘are we cooking or ordering in?’. Whatever ingredients are missing the other 2 ends up having to bring or purchase it.  There is always a bottle of some or the other liquid courage involved to get drunk. And by drunk, I mean one glass each. This week’s poison is red wine. We definitely enjoy our wine.

We do live close by, but that does not mean we will not take at least 2 hours get our lazy asses out the house. By 7 PM or so, we are all together, having hugged and said we missed each other. Some dancy tunes are already playing in the background. Whatever is the fruit of the week is, it’s being prepped to eat and we are deciding what needs to be made to feed ourselves. Finally settling on a soup, roti, and daal. For desserts, we have a tub of ice cream.

As we start on the actual cooking, we pour ourselves a glass of our drink and start talking about our week. How one discovered is a song that needs to be heard. How for the amount of work that is done, a raise should be given. A book that was started and surely will take at least a month to complete. How we are not getting younger and how it is the main topic of conversation with our parents. Yes, every week there is something new that happens in all these regards. Anything that is on our minds we end up discussing. We talk about this in all seriousness for a few mins and then we start dishing out absurd ideas and how to get away with it.

Sipping the wine, eating the fruits and some chocolates, cutting up Spinach for the soup, making the dough for roti, and measuring the lentil is a marvellous time. We have been friends forever and been together for everything. We had to work in different places owing to our interests. Since then we have hung out together on Saturdays, which is about 5 years now. In the beginning, it was going out for brunches and some random things. Now, as we get older we need our sleep and quiet. So we gather at home.

Sometimes the conversation is fun and light other times is hurt, hate and darkness. We get through it all. Together.

We put on a movie, never to complete it. Once we add the cream to the soup, dinner is made. We don’t serve it to anything we take 3 spoons and dip it in. It’s hot, one of us shouts and we wait for a bit again. Talking about a trip that we always wish to take and this time set on a date we get serious. Lets book the stay and we can drive up there next week lets skip work on Friday and Monday. This time none of us make any excuses as all of the excuses are being shot down by others. And we decide to book it.

We are in no mood to clean up and wash up any new utensils. We just use the big ones that we used for cooking and eat like uncultured morons. We praise ourselves that we did good this time and we should be running a kitchen by now, that is how good we are.

As the dessert comes out, we book our mini vacation. By then the time is 12:22 AM. How the time flies. Now we remember the half drunk wine glasses and hold them again. The movie is running with no one watching. We are busy making fun of the things in our sights. We do that when we are high on food and a great time. We laugh at nothing and everything.

At that moment, you know you will be okay. You will be better than okay.



I will listen to anything from classical to goth and baby shark. Even to the languages, I don’t understand. I have at many points in life seriously considered buying a car just for the sole purpose of singing along loudly. I have actually calculated the finances to buy one and soon those dreams were crushed as I realized I can’t afford a car. Not right now.

One day, as you do, I was talking to my friend about music in the bedroom, Not during the ‘sexy time’ but while actually sleeping. I told I’d love it and that it would be a dream come true if we can get speakers attached to all parts of the house and play music according to my mood. I got a little too excited. She asks me, what if the man you are with does not want music playing all night long? I get so defensive and immediately go “then he is no longer my man, is he ?”  I genuinely think that I would kick that rascal out my bed and sleep like a drunk adult without a care in the world if that would ever happen.

I hate it when I have my earphones plugged in which is most of the time and on a journey to Musicland, someone has the need or the urge to talk to me right at that moment. Never once is it anything important. I stuff down the urge to roundhouse kick anyone who does interrupt me.

To me, there are 3 types of people.

  1. Those who can’t function without music.
  2. Those who will play a little music every now and then
  3. Those who don’t listen to it. At all!

Whatever you do, don’t ever trust the 3rd type. Not worth it. We do have many subtypes of listeners and I will not be getting into that because this will turn into a book and no one has that kinda time to spend on the internet.

I am the first type. I can’t function without music. And on top of that, I will listen to any kind of music. I’m sure I have not heard so many of the beautiful artists and bands. And you could do me a favour and leave me the name or links to your favorite song that you discovered on an offbeat track share it. I am always on the lookout.

I have lately been on the slow melody track and I found these and could not stop listening. My latest discoveries are:
Y. Billy Raffoul – “Acoustic” (Live)
Z. BEN KYLE (Romantica) – SIMPLE LIFE – Slow Studio Sessions

Hope you enjoy

Books – a sonnet

I found books when I was lonely
I am not sure if I was depressed
I was young and perplexed
Not about sexuality but about life
I was fighting my battles with a blunt knife
They gave me great solace
I roamed the land of the lawless
As I read away into the night
A brave new world shining bright
Created in my head, gave me pleasure
It set me straight, kept me like a treasure
Books are my religion
I am thankful for my savior
And my resurrection


Words, well-written words, when read will make you want to flop into a nearby chair and take a breath to appreciate it. It could be a song, a line, a quote or a sonnet or a whole book. When it is good it casts a spell on whoever is reading it at the moment.

Like honey, words, are soft and pure. And is just as well when used after hundreds of years. You can hear someone singing/ quoting it – whatever form writing ends up in, you have to ask yourself how does a person feel so much and actually put it in writing. Most importantly, how and when will I be able to do it.

Having said that, I do not believe someone who says the most beautiful things and promises a lifetime of it. Not unless it is put into action. Consistently. I make it a practice I do the same or nothing we do is meaningful. It becomes so that a few good words were written for someone else and whoever wrote it might be keeping the promises but we are just living in the fantasy of how we wish our lives were and refusing to accept anything else.

Words are important. Saying beautiful, encouraging things are important. It builds trust. It just won’t maintain it. And when it is broken, a piece of us just starts to accept that we are not worth the effort of even stringing a couple of words together and standing by it.

So, I tell you all. Yes, LADIES and GENTLEMEN, we are worth the words. But it is of no use unless you add value to it. Over and over again. It is the choice that made is what makes us all romanticize the literature.



All who travel have their reasons about why and what travel means to them. Some travel to forget and some to remember, some to take a break from their daily struggle. But one thing is for sure, we all travel for the change in the pace of the day. Like many things in life I have a theory on how one should travel as well.

I will definitely tell you my theory.

Anyone who dreams and thinks of travel should always travel twice. Once travel when you do not have much money to spend. Take a backpack, live in cheap inexpensive hostels and shared dorms. Eat the food bought from markets. Make friends that will feed you with their favorite places in their city and share their food with you. Take you to all things local. Where you struggle to use the language but will still try your best. The best way to put this across is to say travel on a limited budget and when you have the energy, meaning, in your 20s and mid-30s.

Then comes the luxury travels in your 40s and 50s. Where you have the money to spend and stay in an expensive hotel and resorts, where you don’t even have to leave the place to experience the exquisite food and culture. This is when you hang back and chill, pick out a few places you want to experience and carry on. Where you take a car to visit a place to shop and people know the language you speak.  The epitome of the best your money can buy.

I have to say, this seems like a long distance relationship with the idea of travel from a person who has not ever left the city except for work and we all know how well that can be logged under “travel”.  I am definitely working towards redeeming this lack of experience in travel. I envy the ones that do get to see and experience the world, to them I say, share with us your secrets. How do I travel? Share your tips.

What I fantasize the most when I think of traveling is, finding a good spot where I can drink a cup of tea or share a glass of wine and marvel over the beauty of the place from where I am seated at the moment. Take in that beauty and just breath.

Here’s to the lovelies that are bitten by wanderlust. I hope that we let go of whatever is holding us back, take a chance and live.

What can be better than living?

Especially if you are doing it on your own terms.



Being Weird

I don’t know if I like being weird. What I do like is to be myself. To almost all the people in my life means that I am weird.

I am weird because I like chocolate but nothing that has got to do with its flavours. I will eat the candy bar with cacao in it but refuse to eat the chocolate ice cream because I don’t like how it feels on my tongue.

People seem to think that being yourself and being vocal about what you like and dislike sets you apart from what they are used to or their standard of normalcy. I am called weirdo like it is a bad thing. To me, it is and always has been a compliment. It just means that I am doing something that you would not try, like, liking a pineapple pizza. One either loves it or they don’t. There is no in between.

I also give away free advice and that probably the real reason why I am called weird.
“Oh, you think you are gaining weight, girl, try this you will be 55 Kgs in no time”. Meanwhile, I am crossing a century and unwilling to help myself.

And as I type this away I realize how ignorant I am being. This probably does not even make sense. This is literally my inner dialogue, in print. This post has no cause or effect on anything worthwhile. It’s late in the night, even though I have slept all afternoon I am sleepy right now. Blaring ‘Crazy by Gnarls Barkley’ into my ear, shaking my head like I just don’t care and wishing I was better at this and many other things in life but walking around like I got things under control is basically my full-time job other than actually having a full-time job.

It is what it is and we are what we are. I am on a long road of changes but that won’t dull my sparkle and the will to shine and be myself. There might be a 1000 reasons why I should give up on being weird but if I give that up, Who am I? You call me weird and I hear unique.

I am here to inspire me to be as myself as I can be. Call me weird and just ignite the fire.

Make a video

Make the moments count. Not just the ones that pass as time but the ones that stop time as well.

With the modern world, it is very easy to capture everything. A camera is just about on every single thing that is electronics. I mean It won’t be far away if a mixer has a camera unless it does already and I am late to this party as well.

Although a great many people try and capture the beauty of the world from behind a lens, what our eyes see will never even come close.

The grand and simple gestures of your loved ones have a great place in your heart. You may have a video of the same but what you remember is what you always romanticize the most. That is what keeps your heart warm on a cold winter day. Videos will always remind you of the small forgotten things that make that memory last a lifetime. The romantic version that is playing in your head is always the best video one can ask for.

So, go on. Hangout with yourself. Go on a date with your friends. Do something spectacular for your parents. Sing in unflattering tone. Tell your brother how special they are. Say a kind thing to the stranger. Appreciate someone’s beauty. Dance to that tune. And by some luck, you give your heart away, make a big deal out of it. Never treat any moment less than ordinary.

The limited amount of time that you do have will pass by in a wink. Turn it into an affair that it is. And affairs are worth reminiscing over time. Any affair to remember is always recorded. Never miss your chance to make a video.


You have trap & bass running in the background. You have just showered and are picking out some colourful clothes to put on. You are dancing away as you get ready and you plan to meet your friends. But at the last minute, they cancel – they have their reasons. But you are all dressed up and are feeling yourself after a few days of being locked up in your own mind for many various reasons which now seems completely induced but at the time it was necessary to wallow.

What do you do?

You feel particularly beautiful. It stings a little that you were ditched. You look outside your window, it is a bright sunny day with sweet wind kissing you on the nose. It smells like lemons and how cherries taste. You breathe it in deeply, as you turn around, you see yourself in the mirror and see a faint smile. You admire yourself for a minute and decide you will take yourself out. On a date!

The cab ride seems like a walk in the park where birds are chirping instead of the honks of the cars stuck in traffic. You decide to get little adventures and go to a place you have never been to before.  After a skip, hop and a shoe click away, you reach your destination.

It is not dark yet, but it is not as bright as well. You choose to sit on the ground floor open roof area with trees and plants all around. Each tree has fairy lights strung to it and you think to yourself ‘this must look like a wonderland at nights’. The rustic feel of the bistro keeps you elated.

As you are taking in the beauty, your stomach rumbles. Taking a look at the menu, everything looks mouth-watering. Finally, you settle on broccoli soup, spaghetti aglio olio, and water to wash it down. You are hungry and the food is brought to you before you know it. You add a little pepper to your soup, take it slow to savour the moment and taste but after a few spoonfuls, you began to attack it because it was the best thing you have tasted. Then comes the pasta, you eat a mouthful and moan. This one, you take your time to eat, flavours dirty dancing on your tongue, teasing you with every bite, sliding down your throat and each time asking for more.

You forget yourself and just enjoy the fireworks that are taking place in your mouth. After you are done with the last bite, you realize you are stuffed. There goes your plan for having a piece of cake for dessert. Your waiter brings out the menu again asking you to select something to end your meal with. You get too embarrassed to decline. You pretend to take a look. At the end of the menu, it says butterfly something tea, assuming it is some hot water with a coloured tea bag, you order that. Thinking you can just pretend to take a sip and not like it and leave.

The tea is bought out. There is a pot of hot water with flowers in them, it is blue in colour. There are some cut lemons next to it. You thought this was supposed to be a glass of tea, surely there was a mistake but the waiter reassures it is what you have ordered and asks if he can put in the sliced lemon. As you shake your head, he drops it into the teacup and pours you a glass. The colour changes from blue to purple right in front of you. It surely is magic. It looks so dazzling. It is the star of the show.

You take a sip without sweetening it. Tea tastes warm, mellow and as the night’s soft breeze brushes past it turning it into a sweet melody playing just for me. The tree stands a little taller and the lights turn a little brighter and the soft music being played in the background almost turns into a whisper. By the time you finish the cuppa you know, you will be a tea-head for life.

You walk out of there like you are floating on air. It was a memorable day and tea is what tied them all together.