Knowing Me...

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If I say I'm just a teenager leading a life as normal as it can get, I sort of defy what I stand for. Its not all that easy but it has its moments. I like those moments when they come along and they bring with them a significant amount of emotion, which I only began expressing in words at age 7. Since then, its all about the writing. It gets to certain people and some just don't get it! But I think that its important for me to write because that is maybe the only talent that exists in me [not denying the presence of good enough speech to win a few here and there =P] There is little I know and there is much I simply yap about but I make sure that if its really got to be said, it better be said, however in the wrong or right. I feel much. There are lot of things I plainly observe and those are sort of the things that I adore writing about. I'm inspired by minute details and small things that have a huge impact much later on. There is much more to me that most know and many have bothered not about. Not like I want them to. But I'd like to be known. And that's what I think I stand for, being known beyond what is known. =D

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Meri Dilli

Ghar kar gayi dil mein Dilli
Jaise raat mein lipti kaali billi
Kabhi mohabbat, kabhi hai khilli.
Ghar kar gayi dil mein Dilli.

Jab dhalti hai yahaan shaam sunehri
Ya uthe suraj sunehra
Jab baarish deti hai pehri
Aur dhund ka chhaa jaata hai ghera
Tab yaad aati hain galiyaan
Iss shehar ki, rangeeli
Mann mein baha ke khushiyon ki nadiyaan
Ghar kar gayi dil mein Dilli.

Sochti hoon chhod jaoon
Iss sab ko meelo peechhe
Aasmaan mein main ud jaoon
Chhute jag saara neeche
Tab kheench laati hai waapas yeh yaadein
Pyaar takraar aur zindagi mein mili
Nahin ab kisi aur jagah se naate
Ghar kar gayi dil mein Dilli.

Monday, August 5, 2013


I hate my hands.

I think they're really ugly - stubby fingers, darkened knucles and joints, broad and tall palm and bitten off nails [who wants to keep those pretty when the rest is so pathetic? It'll just draw more attention.]. They're also very uninviting - fat and warm and rough. I hate to use moisturisers because it just makes everything slippery and sticky.

But if there is ever a time that I believe my hands look beautiful, it is when I have mehendi [henna] on them.

I love mehendi. It cools, soothes and looks beautiful and - at least in my case - stays for 10 days till it wears off. As a child, I used to love to have my whole hands [sometimes right up to the elbow, like a bride] tattooed with this herb paste, even though I was too impatient and would want to have the dried mass off of my skin as soon as possible, to reveal the warm colour beneath. Regardless of how short the duration for which I had the mehendi on, my hands would still colour the darkest of all around me. Someone would say it's because of a loving husband or a doting mother-in-law that I will have in the future, and others would cynically deduce that it was because I had a warm body temperature. I agreed either way, because my hands would blush bright beneath the richness of the mehendi.

Over the years, the love hasn't even faded, even if the mehendi fades with time. My hands still colour the darkest, and despite my growing and constant critique of my hands, I loved them dearly when they were tinted with mehendi. The designs became smaller at one time, and stayed that tiny, because I finally began to see that all the empty space around the designs looked fairer, brighter, lovable and unlike any quality I ever ascribed to it.

And funnily, I'm not the only one in adoration for my hands. My family would constantly kiss my gorgeously coloured palms, and feed me and help me around when the mehendi would still be fresh - disabling me from even lifting a finger for fear of spoiling it. My friends would look at my palms with admiration and envy. My hands drew attention, questions and compliments. With the mehendi on them, my hands took on a life of their own and became a thing of beauty that is always looked at with joy.

This taught me something really important. If I highlighted what I considered my worst features and turned them into assets, they would make heads turn. The beauty that I don't see in myself would be visible to the world. And this gives me a hope and confidence each day that I look at my henna hands. It makes me believe that a fat, average height, average brained and slightly talented girl could have her way in the world once in a while. And if not that, at least I'll have the beauty of my henna hands to get me through.

Saturday, August 3, 2013


"Well, this is new"

"Of course it is. You refused to go anywhere we've been before!"

"And what's wrong with a little wanderlust? It's a rarity in our stage in life."

"Sure. Wander away. Just remember, these curtains aren't as good as the ones in the place we were in during our 10th anniversary"

"I don't agree. Although, I will say that these big glass windows give me the creeps. So much for the peace and calm they advertise."

"Oh, stop being so cynical. We may as well enjoy it here."

"As long as the food is good!"

"Of course it will be. Although I daresay, I would rather cook you a roast for your 50th birthday next week."

"Hmm. I have a feeling that this is where I want to spend my 50th birthday. Not like that old place, with mouldy walls and over-starched bed sheets. It's comfortable here"

"And what makes you think you're celebrating you're birthday anywhere else but at home?"

"Tradition, honey! It's been 20 years since I had a birthday at home. I hardly remember it."

"Add to that our children's birthdays, Matthew's graduation, Amy's first car and our 25th anniversary. The list doesn't end."

"Maybe it does. Maybe this year is the last of all of that. I'm too tired to keep this up. Sometimes I refuse to believe that this is what we've done to our lives."

"Oh, nonsense. I turn 50 in a year and even then, we'll be on the move. And I would rather have this than no life at all."

"Umm, excuse me. It's time for your daily blood work. Can I have you both in your beds please?"