Monday, June 30, 2014

Movie review- Her

(Image courtesy: Google)

There is something about love that makes one hope for second chances, a way to mend your past. Her is an American film, released in 2013, directed by Spike Jonze. Though I had this movie for quite sometime now, I had never gotten around to watching it despite the good reviews that I heard. Probably because the hero (Joaquin Phoenix) didn't appeal to me (the mustache, if you must know) and I have never been a fan of mustaches in my life. I kept postponing it and finally sat down to watch it last night. 

Anyways, coming back to the movie, it takes place sometime in the future, when we humans have drifted so apart, that there are even professional writers of letters for people who don't have the time or patience to write them. Theodore Twombly (Joaquin Phoenix) is one such amazing writer who spends his days writing theses letters to other people, being a part of their lives involuntarily. Who weaves together some beautiful and touching letters, which is one of my favorite things about the movie.

He is, however, going through a rough patch in his life with his inevitable divorce looming at large. He had been married to his childhood sweetheart Catherine (Rooney Mara) before their differences grew them apart. And he has phone sex with strangers at night! Though he comes across as a bit weird initially, I warmed up to his character when it came to his gift of writing and striking a chord with his readers.

And that is when Samantha (Scarlett Johansson) enters his life. Oh no, she is not a woman. Technically, she is an operating system who speaks to him. She is just a voice with a lot emotions that she's struggling to understand and you guessed it, with no body. What starts off as an innocent friendship and a voice to talk to, a secretary cum friend to remind him of his appointments and so forth, soon develops into something a lot more complicated. 

Though the chemistry between Theodore and Samantha is great, the fact that she is just a voice creates tension during the course of their relationship. As much weird as it may sound, Samantha is not just a laptop, as put by Catherine, his ex-wife. When the programmers created her, they have instilled in her not just an artificial intelligence, but also the ability to feel in deep any emotions that she many have. 

Though the story revolves around the relationship between Theodore and Samantha, a few other characters add more charm to the movie. Charles (Matt Letscher) and Amy (Amy Adams) are a married couple who are friends of Theodore. They get divorced shortly afterwards and Amy befriends a female operating system that her husband leaves behind. Apparently, she is not shocked to learn that Theodore is dating Samantha. 

I don't want to say what happens next as it would take the fun out if you want to watch the movie. I'm sure you will love it, if you are a die hard romantic (like me), at heart. The fact that Samantha is in awe of the world that she is only getting used to and her liveliness and passion are what fascinates Theodore and draws them together. How long will they be able to carry on a relationship which could die as technology changes? Watch the movie to find out! I would give it a three point five stars on five for this one. 

The concept around which the movie is based is different and you won't be disappointed. Give it a watch!

Sunday, June 29, 2014

A deprived chocoholic speaks up

(Images courtesy: Tumblr)

I'm chocolate deprived, like seriously, craving for some chocolate right now. I guess this is how the withdrawal symptoms start for addicts. Now I know what all addicts, be it drug addicts, smokers or alcoholics, go through. It is so hard to stay away from chocolates for a person who has religiously worshiped all sorts of chocolates (the gooey milk chocolate ones especially). Sigh! Never knew it was going to be this hard to stay away from it. 

I have even taken to eating those bitter chocolate ones, as a means of consolation, if there is something like it. Well, as they say, once an addict, always an addict. There will never be a cure for chocoholics, I guess. It's a hard thing to take a resolution but easier is giving into temptations once in a while. Else, you become this horrible monster like person whose head will be filled with tantalizingly drool worthy images such as these. The ones that you are not going to have in a long, long while. 

Hell, I'm getting a high by simply looking at these images. Chocolate, when are we going to meet ever again? I hope you do realize that you are being missed by your ardent worshiper. I used to be one of those people who could eat bars and bars of chocolate and not get fed up. How I miss those days!

Imagine the irony of munching on cucumber sticks instead of those big, thick chocolate bars. Life can be cruel sometimes. I hope the day is not too far away till we meet again, Mr. Chocolate. Not a day or night passes by without your absence being felt. 

I look wistfully at the rows of chocolates and chocolate cakes and brownies when I'm browsing through Supermarkets. Even fingering those shiny wrappers embracing the richness inside is enough to make me misty eyed. The cravings are getting too strong, I hope my resolve doesn't weaken too soon. 

Thinking of you all the time. Till we meet again. And please do not ever think that anyone else can take your place. 

Your ever faithful devotee,


Saturday, June 28, 2014

A 'Roar & Soar' Award

(Image courtesy: Soumya Prasad)

When Soumya gifted me with the first 'Roar and Soar' Award, I was over the moon. This award came straight from her heart and I was touched. Soumya, my writings may not be up to the standard of your posts (which I love), but THANK YOU! For someone who is new to the blogging world, each comment and appreciation means so much! A big heart felt Thanks to you once more!

Soumya blogs at LOL: Life of Leo and I'm a huge fan of her works, especially her trysts  with fiction and poetry that leaves you wanting for more. 

Soumya, like you mentioned in your post, though I had started the blog way back in 2011, it was only recently that I have actually started taking it seriously. I was one of those bloggers who had an account and used to follow a small number of bloggers back then. I used to love reading (still do), but writing was not something which I felt that I had it in me. I did the occasional book review or wrote about something that caught my attention. But that was about it. 

The hectic jobs that I had till now left me very little space to actually sit and blog. Right now, I'm taking a break from it all and I must say, I'm loving it! Not to mention the ample time on my hands that lets me do the experimenting with my writing. Fiction was a genre which I have always secretly dreamed of writing. On a whim, I started penning short stories and was surprised at how much I enjoyed doing it. Poetry, on the other hand, was something that was a bit more safe, initially. 

But my confidence started building up when I got new comments appreciating my work. And again, Soumya, a big Thanks to you for being one of the first readers and encouraging me so much. Your words mean so much, since I admire your writing style a lot.

Soumya, I started following your blog sometime around March and I was amazed at how talented a writer you are. You are truly an inspiration for newbie writers like me. 

Regarding conceiving of characters, I'm still not sure whether my characters have left a lasting impression, but few of them are inspired from real life and the images inside my head when I start writing a story. Sometimes, I draw inspiration from strangers I see everyday and try to imagine what their story must be. I believe, everyone has a story to tell.  

Most often, I start off writing a story having no idea how it would end, but that's part of what makes writing so exciting and adventurous for me. I hope it made some sense!

Thanks once more for bestowing me with the 'Roar & Soar' Award. It's a wonderful initiative from your side which would definitely be an inspiration to all those wonderful bloggers out there. I'm honored to be the first recipient of your award. 

And I guess, the 'Leo' thing was what drew me to your blog first! Maybe, it's just a star sign we share in common. But I could relate to most of your writings. Sounds weird, I know. I'm flattered that you see a bit of yourself in my writings. I Just hope I don't disappoint you. Thank you, Soul Sister. Looking forward to many more of your Roars :) You rock!

Thursday, June 26, 2014

Behind the mask

(Image courtesy: Google)

The moment I stepped into the party, I couldn't take my eyes off her. I was dazzled, not that I could see much of her face, more than half her face was hidden by the mask she wore. 

I caught a pair of feline eyes looking at me through them, the kind that reminds you of golden specks in a pool of brown, that drew me in and yet I could not place them. 

And it was only later in the night, when I got her to loosen up over a couple of drinks did I realize why she looked so familiar. She reminded me of my wife who was tucked away safely in a box under my bed and I smiled. 

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Roses in bloom

(Image courtesy: Google)

The roses were in full bloom
The red like spilled blood
Spreading their tentacles
Along the old brick wall

The roses would bloom
Every year just before Winter
Reminiscing its old life
Before she went away

The scarlet roses 
Were her favorite
Though they reminded her 
Of a love gone wrong

The roses would bloom
As though missing her presence
Watching her as she slept
Along the old cemetery wall 

Monday, June 23, 2014

Ferris wheel

(Image courtesy: Tumblr)

Lanterns afloat
Twinkling beneath us
Like little stars
Round and round we go
In the Ferris wheel

Music from the rides
Drift into the air
Laughter of children
Reminds us of innocence
And a lost past

The Ferris wheel
Goes over and over
Taking us with it
Allowing the wind 
To cradle us in its arms

And we float above
In the Ferris wheel
Not thinking or talking
Just drinking the moment in
On the last day of the carnival...

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Before I leave

(Images courtesy: Google)

It is 6 in the morning when I wake up drenched in sweat. The nightmare I had is still clear and etched before my eyes. I lie dying, living a life of regrets. As life oozed away from my body along with my blood, the only thought that I had was I am not ready. Not yet. 

I still had a lot of dreams, I was not ready to give it all up. The thought stuck me out of the blue, what if today was actually my last day. That I if I were to die tonight, would I go in peace? Or would I kick up a mess, like I always did when I was alive?

Today is a Monday. I have to report to work and be at my desk at Nine O'Clock. Even employees reporting half an hour late would be marked off as a loss of pay, such were my strict office rules. Do I really want to spend the last day of my life slogging away at a job that I didn't even like in the first place? I got up, took a shower, wore my favorite yellow sundress and had my breakfast. Donuts and coffee. The donuts were definitely not good for my already expanding waist line, but it's my last day and rules don't apply. Not anymore.

I happily ignored the calls that were coming in from my office. I panicked all of a sudden when I thought about the work that was long overdue. Today was the deadline for submitting the presentation that I had worked hard and sacrificed my weekend for. I switched off my mobile as an afterthought. I don't need this.

I have a whole day ahead of me. What do I do first?

Then I remembered. I took my old bike that now lay dusty in the corner of my car shed. The second hand Audi that I had bought using my last year's bonus overshadowed the rusty bike. But nothing a good cleaning up can't fix. The bike had gifted me so many fond memories. Skinned knees while I was learning it, the dent that it still bore as a reminder of a crazy drunken stupor. 

I rode it home, to my parents'. The wind played with my hair, the ride gave me an adrenaline rush that I was yet to experience while driving a car. The memories came rushing back and brought a smile to me face. That felt weird, so caught up was I my hectic life, that I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so carefree and happy.

My mother seems surprised to see me when I reached home. Whether she was surprised to see me on the bike, or whether she was simply taken back at seeing me, I was not sure. She hugged me close and the smell of her cooking on her and the warmth of her skin made feel that it was not a mistake in coming home today. Dad seemed happy to see me as well, and it was felt like I had traveled back in time. Helping Mom with the cooking and watching the football commentary with Dad.

It was past late afternoon after having the delicious lunch when I left. They both seemed surprised when I hugged them tightly before waving goodbye. I was never good at displaying my emotions. And maybe that is why I had to visit one more person before I go.

I drove to his home, which was hardly twenty minutes away from mine. I had not expected him to be there, honestly. The last time I heard, he was preparing to leave the country and pursue his career elsewhere. But I didn't want to die without having to know. I didn't want any what ifs. Not any more. 

We both looked at each other dazed. It had been so many years back. We had grown apart, in so many ways. He looked so different. Gone was the boyish arrogance that he wore in his teens, instead it was replaced with a ripening maturity. He had a scar on his left eyebrow as a reminder of the by gone days with me. We stood and stared at each other before he managed to muster me in. His voice had changed too, somehow it felt like being wrapped up in the softest of velvet. 

We didn't speak much; but his eyes said it all as did the raised eyebrows. Another habit which refused to die. 

"Look, I know this weird. Finding me springing from your past must come as a shock to you. But I had this huge crush on you back in college and I know that you considered me as a good friend. I could never gather the courage to tell it to you on your face. But today is special for me and I could never forgive myself if I didn't tell you this...", my voice trailed off. I hope he didn't notice the quiver in it. I would never have uttered these words had it not been for the dream. And for that, I'm thankful. Another thing off my chest. 

He stood looking at me in surprise with his mouth wide open. What he must have expected could certainly have not been a confession of love, which obviously, looked like it came a tad too late. I got up to leave, it was mortifying to sit in uncomfortable silence as he continued to look at me skeptically. 

"Well, you must probably be busy. I better be going now. I was in the neighborhood and thought...," he didn't let me finish the sentence before he got hold of my hand.

"Wait, I wanted to tell this to you on our last day together, at the farewell party. But somehow, my gut ditched me the last moment. I never kept in touch because I knew you were enjoying your new life and job...", he said so looking into my eyes.

And trust me when I say this, but if I were to die that very moment, I would have done so happily in his arms. That evening I mailed in my resignation to my office before we went out for a stroll in the moonlight, after all, we had a lifetime to catch up on. And the voice inside my head said that it was only the beginning of a new life. I was reborn.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Saturday, June 21, 2014

I am Sita

(Image courtesy: Google)

I am Sita. Devoted daughter, loyal wife, faithful mother. But first, I am a woman. With dreams and hopes of a life that lies in front of me. I was pampered and cherished as the only daughter to my parents, who has never made me feel that I was adopted. I was their own. I learned to fall in love with life, from those early years. 

And when my father, the King, decided that I was of marriageable age upon blossoming into a young woman, I was apprehensive. I was young and new to the ways of the world. But the moment I set my eyes on you, my Lord, my worries vanished. For I knew this was the man who would protect me more than his life. When you passed the test set by my father for the swayamwara, I was the last person to be surprised. For I knew, deep in my heart, that you would always be the One. 

Our joy sanctified by matrimony, however, was short lived. You loved with me all your heart, swore to protect me till the end of life. And I, believed. No, I trusted you with my life. And so, when you were forced to leave our kingdom behind and to take sanctuary in the forests, there was no thinking twice for me. You begged, pleaded and cajoled with me, asking me to stay back, lest I should face the hardships that I was not accustomed to, living in the safety of the Palace all my life. But you were my life, and I could not imagine spending a day without you by my side.

With your ever faithful brother, Lakshmana and me by your sides, we left for the forests. It did not feel so hard. Not when the thorns pricked by delicate skin, not when the Sun set my skin burning and not even when I had to step on stones, that tore my feet and drew my blood. The pain was nothing compared to the fire that was burning inside me. 

You loved me with all your heart. You made it your mission to fulfill even the smallest of whims that I may have had. And so, when I laid my hands on the magnificent golden deer, you did not hesitate to go after it. Even when I sent Lakshmana to go after you, for fear that you were wounded, I did not think twice when the sly Ravana disguised himself and came asking for alms. It was an instinct that I acted upon, without regret. 

And when Ravana showed me his true colors and abducted me to his kingdom, Lanka, my heart twisted not from fear, but due to the chain of events that would follow, for which I was the spark. A lot of it having adverse consequences. That one year, in exile, my heart wept, filling me with a longing merely to hear a word from you. I guarded my chastity as fiercely as my loyalty and nothing Ravana said or did would have made me change my mind. 

A year of separation, my Lord, I have lived through hell and back. Till you finally came and rescued me from the clutches of Ravana. I have not felt such happiness and nor will I ever forget the ecstasy that I felt when I was finally back in your arms! If I was to die that day, I would have died a content woman. Ravana was dead and I was reunited with my soul mate. My heart overflowed with delight, not knowing that I would never be able to enjoy it again in a long, long while. 

We returned back and you were crowned the King. But tongues soon started wagging, for I was a woman who had spent one year in the prisons of a stranger. You ordered Lakshmana to light a pyre for me. As a test for my 'purity'. 

It is not for me, but merely to please the people of my kingdom. For as a King, I must practice what I preach. I could read the thoughts that you tried to tell me, but failed. 

Did you notice the flash of anger in Lakshmana's eyes, my Lord? For the first time and perhaps the last, he dared question the action of his elder brother. But not one voiced their thoughts. Not one.

I decided to step into the burning flames, not just to prove my chastity to the hundreds of people. But maybe, it was for you. I could see the pride reflected in your eyes. 

There she is, pure and unscathed. Devoted to me as ever. Your eyes said it all. 

I realize today, that a part of me died in the fires that day. Or maybe it was a rebirth. I am still not sure. But what I know is that, a woman of great strength was reincarnated. In me, as me. A woman who vowed to herself, that she may lose all that she had, riches and relations. But this woman, would hold on to the shards of her dignity, no matter what she may lose with it. 

You accepted me back into your life. Pretended as though nothing was wrong. But I could sense your eyes on me, watching me, when you thought I was not looking. Did you really think that Sita was a woman who cannot be trusted? Who would not hesitate to speak nothing but the truth? I tried to put it all behind me, at least for the sake of our children, when I found out that I was pregnant. You rejoiced with me on hearing it. For you would have successors to carry on your legacy now. 

But even then, my joy was cut short. Didn't you realize that you cannot sew the common man's mouth? Despite the test of purity proven by Agni, your devotion was first to the society and second to your wife. You were, after all, the majestic King. Maybe I knew it was coming, for when you ordered Lakshmana to leave me back in the forest, despite my condition, I did not shed even a drop of tear. Or maybe my tears were all used and dried up long ago. I could see the dilemma reflected in your brother's eyes, the pain that coursed through his veins, but I reminded him gently that his devotion was supposed to be for his brother first.

I was taken in by a kindhearted saint,whom I consider my savior. I gave birth to our twin sons, Lava and Kusha. They grew up to be two fine young men, like their father. But did I manage to inculcate in them the most precious of human virtues? Trust and faith, that they must follow throughout their lives. To listen to their instincts, before they turn against the world? I hope so, my Lord. I hope so. 

When you meet them finally, not just as your sons, but as the fine warriors they have turned out to be, do you feel a sense of pride? A sense of accomplishment reflected in your eyes? Like me? Or do I see a shadow of loss in them? Do you realize that you have missed out on the smaller joys that life has to offer when you were busy ruling your kingdom based on a rigid set of principles? I do not blame you, my Lord. For your sense of responsibility towards your kingdom and disciples have earned you the name as one of the most famous kings to have walked on Earth.

Now that they are rejoined with their father, who should rightly be the guiding light of their lives, here on. For our sons need the presence of the father who was missing from their lives all this time. In your hands, I give you my life. Guide them, protect them, teach them. Scold them when they are wrong, for they need to know that life does not always go as planned. And lastly, don't forget to love them. With all your heart and soul. 

It is time for me to go, my Dearest. Dwell not in my absence. But in looking forward to leading a better life with our sons. Make them the mighty princes that you have always aspired to be. And make them even better human beings, for me. 

Mother Bhumi, open up for me. It is time. Time to bid goodbye to the chains that have shackled me in this life. Time for us to meet again. You have made me and to you I shall return. I have relinquished all my ties. I want to be cocooned in your depths once more. Embrace me in your folds as you would hold a long lost daughter. Envelop me in your tenderness. Take me back. I am Sita. 

P.S- This is a work of fiction, though I have relied on a lot of sources from the Internet, including Wikipedia for my limited research.

P.P.S- I have tried to do justice to Sita as first heard from my Grandmother where she used to weave stories that left all of us granddaughters, enthralled. It was a long time ago, many years in fact, and all I have tried to do is dust the cob webs away and tried to recreate the magic that I experienced back then. 

P.P.P.S- I do not claim that the facts mentioned here as true, it is just my version of the story. At least, how I have always thought it to be. It is not meant to offend or mock any one. 

The haunted bungalow

(Image copyright: Mary Shipman)

The house seemed normal enough before we moved in here. At first, it seemed to be a stroke of luck, getting such a grand bungalow at a price much lower than the market price. The sounds of hammering nails started the night we moved in. 

Knock, knock, knock. The sounds were muffled through the walls. 

Though we ignored the sounds at first, strange things began happening around our new home. And the sound of nails, more than ever. 

Till the day we came to know about the woman whose voices inside her head drove her to hammer her fingers into the wall, one by one.

This drabble is written for Friday Fictioneers- 20th June for the above photo prompt. 

The other side of the fence

(Image courtesy: Google)

We are worlds apart, I can never be hers. Yet, I wait, patiently for the Saturday evenings to see her. She comes faithfully, with utmost devotion to see me on those days. We stand across the fence, looking into each other's eyes, her big brown ones into my black. When her Dad holds her hand to take her back to the warmth of her home, she looks back wistfully thinking, I wish Midnight was mine.

Book review- The Winning Hand by Nora Roberts

There is something about Nora Roberts that keeps you hooked to her books from page one. The Winning hand is no exception. It is a story set in the back drop of Las Vegas and its famous casinos which makes it all the more colorful and interesting. The book is part of the MacGregors series (which I was not aware of till I was well into the book). The book is number seven of the series, but it can be read as a stand alone novel as well. I have not read any of the other books in this series, but was still able to enjoy it.

Darcy Wallace arrives in Vegas with just nine dollars and thirty seven cents to be precise after having her purse stolen and her car getting broken down in the middle of nowhere. But the fire in her keeps her going and she walks up to Vegas and finds herself drawn to The Comanche, a casino. Deciding to try her luck, with hardly anything to lose, she puts all her last money into a slot machine. And Viola! She hits the jackpot winning close to two million dollars! 

She faints in the shock and wakes up in the arms of Robert MacGregor Blade. He is the ultimate hero of all novels, tall, dark and handsome. And of course, the attraction is mutual. Mac describes Darcy as pixie like with her delicate frame and short hair. He is often seen comparing her to a fairy (without the wings). Meanwhile, Darcy is a librarian cum budding writer who is fleeing her past from Kansas city. She has a dominating fiance- Gerald who makes a short appearance after her press conference regarding her stroke of luck. 

Darcy seems to be on a winning streak, not with just the money flowing into her hands, but also in terms of her love life and career. She completes her two books while staying at the Comanche. What a life! The relationship between Darcy and Mac is however, predictable. There are sparks flying and of course, Mac cannot be sure whether he just wants to protect this innocent virgin (Yes, you heard that right!) from the bad world out there or whether, he has indeed fallen in love with this petite woman. 

We can also see a lot of other interesting characters of the MacGregor family including Mac's parents, his grandfather and his Uncle. They make the story more lively and prevents it from dragging. The chemistry and fireworks between Mac and Darcy is predictable, but necessary for the story to move on. Another character which fascinated me was Serena, Mac's mother, a strong independent woman with an eye for gambling and winning. I would love to hear her story and maybe shall try to get my hands on that book (Playing the odds, which is the story of how Serena and Justin- Mac's parent met, on a Caribbean cruise, no less!). 

The Winning Hand, is rightly named and does justice to the fans of Nora Roberts, who will not be disappointed on reading it. Bottom line- I really liked it and would definitely give it a four stars on five as I enjoyed it immensely and finished it over the night. The book is not too long, which is a plus point, else it would  have definitely been a drag. Go for this one, if you are looking for some romance and an interesting plot. After all, we have all dreamed of being Darcy at some point and turning a millionaire overnight!

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Something about her

(Image courtesy: Google)

I still remember the day, the sun was ablaze tanning my skin a deep brown. The air was crisp and I hoped the saline breeze would not cause much damage to my camera lens. Being the amateur photographer, I was experimenting with my new SLR on the beach. I captured a lot of beautiful images that day. At least, I like to think so. But what captivated me the most was a picture that I shot at random. A pair of legs, the left one adorning an anklet. The sound that it made when she moved her feet were music to my ears. The owner was lost deep in thought. It appears that she has not noticed me clicking pictures of her dainty feet. The water lapped around her ankles. She seemed distant, far away. 

The wind blew her auburn tresses over her shoulder. There were deep red highlights in them that shone through when the sun kissed it. She wore a light blue dress that stopped short at her knees. She must have felt my eyes boring into her back for she turned her eyes and looked at me. I saw a look of surprise on her face, which soon turned into indignation when she noticed my camera. Perhaps she knew that her memories are already mine.

She took a couple of steps away from me. But I was not ready to leave her. At least, not yet. 

"Do you mind if I click some of your pictures?", I asked.

"And what if I do?", she answers my question back with another one. This one was going to be tough, I realized.

"Well, I won't click any more of your pictures then." , I replied.

"So, that means you have already clicked me without asking." There was no mistaking the mild annoyance in her tone.

"I'm sorry. If you want I shall delete them right now. But the snaps are beautiful. You can have a look if you like." A look of uncertainty crossed her face before she agreed.

I could see the delight that she was trying hard to mask on seeing the pictures. Like me, the shot of her legs in the blue water, with her anklet peeping, held her attention. 

"I can mail it to you if you like." I offered.

Surprisingly, she passed me her email ID. Tanya, that was her name. 

And that was how she came into my life.

I transferred the files onto my laptop the first thing I did when I reached home and mailed it to her. I waited the entire night, but there was no reply. She seemed to be taking her time, though I was sure that she had seen it. Sometime after midnight, I slept off. The next morning, I woke up to her Thank you mail on my screen. Somehow, that made my day. I couldn't wipe off the goofy grin on my face all day. 

That evening, I caught her online and started chatting. It was mostly monotonous replies from her side and you could say it was more of me doing the talking. But the more she resisted, the more I felt drawn to her. She was reluctant to tell me anything about her. But somewhere along the way, the ice melted. 

Maybe it was my reluctance in giving up. Or maybe she simply took pity upon my desperation. But whatever the reason, I was happy. Not talking to her, made my day incomplete. Like a love lorn puppy, I lapped up all the attention she threw my way. In spite of talking to her for over six months, I could still not figure her out completely. She was aloof, immune to my charms. And maybe that is what fascinated me. She could not be termed my girlfriend, she was certainly not that. Maybe the word that I'm looking for is obsessed. Yes, she was more of an obsession for me, that had me hooked. There was something about her, something for which I always went back for. 

The very rare occasion, she decided to come out for a coffee or a movie, after a lot of cajoling, my heart sang with joy. She would sometimes hold my hand, stroking it softly, as she spoke to me. A whiff of fragrance when she tossed her hair or leaned across me would waft into my nostrils. Vanilla blended with honey. That is the smell that would always remind me of the time I spent with her. 

The truth is, I have never been able to figure her out even today. There are days when she would ask me to click her pictures, posing for me without inhibitions. With a careless abandon. Other days, she would snap at me if I did as much as click her picture on my mobile. 

And so, when she told me out of the blue, that she was moving away from the City, I was not taken aback by her decision. But that didn't leave me any less heart broken. She appeared not to be bothered about my sensitivity. But deep down, I knew that she was deeply affected as well. Had I played a role in driving her away, even unconsciously? I will never know. Some people come into our lives and leaves an impact. A long lasting one. For me, it shall always be hers. The stay, however short it maybe, gifts you memories to cherish for a lifetime. They shall remain locked up, fiercely guarded like an intimate secret, that you dust and look at when you are alone.   

And today, three years later, when I hold my first photography exhibition, my showstopper is still a peeping anklet. 

Monday, June 16, 2014

An award of appreciation

I got nominated for Liebster Award by the lovely Priya. I'm sorry for the delay in writing this post, Priya. But as they say, better late than than never! The whole idea of Liebster revolves around the words 'kindness' and 'appreciation'. Thank you Priya, for nominating me for this award. Priya, in her own words is a person who studied physics, married and raises kids and has a passion for cooking. She is new to the blog world, but do check out some of her lovely blog posts. She blogs at A pencil and a scrap of paper!

Though I have been in blogosphere for quite some time now, it is only recently that I got active around the whole idea of blogging. I read a lot of talented voices out there who are all unique and special in their own voices. 

The Liebster Award Official Rules:

If you have been nominated for The Liebster Award AND YOU CHOOSE TO ACCEPT IT, write a blog post about the Liebster award in which you:

1. Thank the person who nominated you, and post a link to their blog on your blog.

2. Display the award on your blog — by including it in your post and/or displaying it using a “widget” or a “gadget”. (Note that the best way to do this is to save the image to your own computer and then upload it to your blog post.)

3. Answer 11 questions about yourself, which will be provided to you by the person who nominated you.

4. Provide 11 random facts about yourself.
5. Nominate 5 – 11 blogs that you feel deserve the award, who have a less than 1000 followers. (Note that you can always ask the blog owner this since not all blogs display a widget that lets the readers know this information!)
6. Create a new list of questions for the blogger to answer.
7. List these rules in your post (You can copy and paste from here.) Once you have written and published it, you then have to:
8. Inform the people/blogs that you nominated that they have been nominated for the Liebster award and provide a link for them to your post so that they can learn about it (they might not have ever heard of it!

My answers to Priya's questions:

1. Do the characters you create have the impression of your qualities?
    Sometimes. Most often, I like to create a world which I dream about!

2. Favorite food?
    Chocolate and Ice creams (I know they belong in the dessert category, still!)

3. Do you share your secrets with anyone? 
     That depends on what the secret is ;)

4. Given a chance to visit USA, whom do you take with, parents or love?
    Preferably both!

5. Do you get angry?
    All the time! (Bad habit I know, but I'm quite short tempered)

6. What attracts you more, babies or flowers?
    Babies, anytime.

7. Do you like to read lengthy posts?
    Depends on how interesting it is.

8. What is your unforgettable dream?
    I forget dreams when I wake up. (Poof! And it's gone!)

9. Do you apologize verbally, for your mistakes?
    Sometimes, yes. (Big headed ego issues here!)

10. Do you like to spend or save?
     Both actually. I like to splurge from time to time.

11. What is 'love' according to you?
      Love means a lot of things for me. But in short, love is magic. It happens to you and you just know if it's   meant to be.

11 random facts about me:

1. My heart turns to mush on hearing real life love stories.

2. Die hard romantic at heart.

3. I have the habit of smelling books before reading them.

4. My dream is to have a room full of books (like a library) at home.

5. I feel people who write and read makes the world a better place.

6. I cook only when I have the mood. Food needs love, much like people and I somehow feel that food cooked without love is bland and tasteless.

7. I dream. A lot. 

8. My latest obsession is watching TV shows back to back. I think I need help!

9. I write my name on my books only after I have finished reading them.

10. I still lust over the special payasam (a sweet dish of Kerala, much like kheer) at Vinayaka's.

11. I'm a messy person to live with!

I would like to honor the Liebster award to the following lovely fellow bloggers:

1. Soumya Prasad at LOL: Life of Leo
2. Vinodini Iyer at Ifs buts ands etcs
3. Seeta Bodke at The Write side
4. Juhi Roy at Shiht Zooo
5. Nikita Goel at The Enchantress
6. Sabeeha Parack at Midnight scribbles

My questions to them would be:

1. Your secret obsession?

2. Your favorite smell?

3. What inspires you to write a post?

4. What is your therapy for getting through the lows in life?

5. Which is the destination that you have always dreamed of visiting?

6. Do you think love gives way to reality?

7. What do you love getting as gifts?

8. Given a chance to undo a mistake in life, would you do it or leave it as it is?

9. What do you like to blog about the most?

10. What's the craziest thing that you have ever done?

11. What is the biggest dream for you right now? 

My congratulations to all the nominees! Thank you once more Priya! Wishing you much luck and success! Spread the love!

Black souls

(Image courtesy: Google)

Black souls hover over us
Around you, around me
Seeking redemption
For sins of their past lives

Wiped off the face of life
By a clean sweep of death
They circle, uncertain
Waiting for a sign

To be called back by us
Lingering around
In between lives 
That seduces them still

Black souls yearn 
For another chance at life
To quench their thirst
One last time

Not yet ready
Not yet prepared
For the final cross over 
To the other side

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...