Moments of Epiphany

I have not written since a long time. I have made plans. Elaborate lists with themes. I have created full length stories in my head. I have saved pictures to write poems on. I have clicked images of people and their characters in my head. All for the sake of someday returning to Nascent Emissions and penning them all down, but each week presented a new picture of my own failure to my head. The amount of stories I have now hoarded inside me is nothing short of criminal. And the curious part is, it is not a crime against humanity, so much as it is a sin against my own heart which has now grown heavy, very heavy with the weight of all that is untold, and unshared.

Today, however, something triggered a change, forcing me to open my laptop, even though the hours are late and office time near. I had planned on sleeping the entire day - thanks to the constant dizziness caused by the Delhi smog, till I remembered a commitment. Two very sweet girls - Ditsa and Pushpangana had invited me over to give a short talk at their monthly get-togethers to encourage prose writers. They call their endeavour - Euphoric Epiphanies - a complex name signifying a very basic human urge, that to write and then to share what has been written with so much heart and labour. Of course, in the presence of a warm and receptive audience.

So I dragged myself out, reached the meet-up an hour late with an itchy throat and itchier head (thanks, again, to the Delhi smog), and was given a fabulous welcome note (most of which I missed), post which I shared a little something on prose-and-poetry writing. The writers who had collected at the spot, the beautiful Hauz Khas Monument Complex, gave me more than their ears, when they engaged in a discussion about what they find more solace in - prose or poetry. Surprisingly, most of them found poetry to be their calling, since prose demanded more 'effort', or did not come as naturally to them. While for the latter reason, I feel convinced, I am nowhere as satisfied with writers taking to a form of writing because it is easier. Poetry demands as much, if not more effort, because of the gravitas of thoughts and the unity of meaning which a poet constantly aspires towards while churning out lyrics in the most apt words, with music, and with metaphors yet to be unravelled and understood by the world.

I also read aloud my favourite prose passage from a book titled Ammi - Letters to a Democratic Mother, authored by Saeed Akhtar Mirza. The excerpt dwelt upon the simple, yet profound love story of the author's parents - Nusrat Beg and Jahanara Begum. In the simplicity of that tale, I know many hearts felt the weight of their own heaviness lift off.

It was already a very fulfilling day, but became grand when I received a special handmade gift from the organisers (I love gifts - always remember that!). Ditsa and Pushpangana (and Tavishi) put together a little box crafted like a book for me. This box/book was titled 'Nascent Emissions', and this is when I realised how others still remember what I have conveniently forgotten. With over 230 posts, this blog has chronicled most of me, through the best and worst of times. And thanks to the kindness shown by the girls, I had to get back here and pen a little of whatever I could. Truth be told, a lot came to me in life because of this virtual collection of very personal writings - my first writing assignments, as well as a little recognition in the world of bloggers. This blog, in fact, also served as the live portfolio for my first job!

So, thank you Ditsa, Pushpangana and Tavishi, for putting together this heartwarming labour of love. I would keep it very close to my heart. Thank you also for the pretty bookmarks with prettier quotes on them - all of which, by the way, are my favourites! How do you people know me so well? Cyber stalking, eh? And those notes on coffee smeared pages - sigh! How do I even begin to say how loved they made me feel?

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Continue doing pretty things to make our smog-ridden world a more tolerable place to live in. And thank you, yet again, for shoving the words 'Nascent Emissions' in my face, and having me land up back here, happily!

I hope the associations forged today continue a tad longer :) 

From The Other Side

I have been a great fan of my teachers. For a child struggling with many tussles inside her heart, mind and the manner in which they related with the very judgemental world, it was my teachers who came to my rescue in ways which cannot be contained inside any text book. This weekend, I took out some time to relive the fantastic college and school times, where teachers formed the pivot around which my life revolved. They were more of my friends than any peer. And I am not exaggerating one bit.

This Teachers' Day, however, I was greeted with another pretty revelation. In a manner uniquely subtle and unconventional, I had stepped over to the other side. It's been a year I have been working with Shiv Nadar School (as a Content Strategist, and not as a teacher), but I have had the privilege of sharing my knowledge of literature and creative writing with the lovely kids there. These few interactions were enough for the students to deem me a teacher, and gift me some love in the form of fond hugs and heartfelt wishes. 

My moment of extreme pride came when I was informed by the Principal herself that students at the school had been wanting me to visit more often, to teach and interact with them. The way my heart swelled and my eyes welled-up is inexplicable in words. What greater joy can greet a person who has made it her life's aim to hear people out and share whatever shreds of knowledge she has managed to amass during her stay on this planet?

I have a special bond with everyone at Shiv Nadar School, right from the teachers, to students to the management, and probably the space of this blog is too scarce to express even a fraction of it. In a relationship spanning more than a year, I have enjoyed the trust of many, and appreciation of the kind that leaves me humbled. What is truly humbling, however, is the scope of learning that the school precincts provide me. I have a genuine belief that the teachers which Shiv Nadar School has chosen to carry its philosophies forward are a unique breed. The value system of the school, as well as the very innate desire to curate learning experiences brims over in a kind of infectious energy which greets me each time I visit. I rue not being able to visit them more often, but, ah, the perils of distances and a crumbling human body. 

The lady, who has left a profound impact on me in that jolly world of learning, as is public knowledge, is Ms. Monica Sagar. It is difficult for me to figure out completely why Monica ma'am appeals to me the way she does. It has probably got something to do with her absolutely down-to-earth and nonchalant demeanour, even on the most glamorous of days. And all this, when she is an exceptional leader. To my mind, she has somehow mastered the art of shepherding her herd while giving them a lead to locate their own paths. After being such a busy woman, she manages to be ready with a hug and smile to greet you at all times. She doesn't exactly teach me, but I end up learning much from her. Always. 

I have written glorious paeans for my school and college teachers, but this Teachers' Day post is an apt time to thank Vaibhav and Karan for being the guides in the professional world, where I still exist as a strong-headed, moment-inspired writer. They manage to keep me going, happy and proud of my work. 

To end, I think a good teacher rises out of exceptional students. Here are a few words from Drishti's blog, which she wrote for her favourite teachers. I am fortunate I fall in that category of favourites for her. 

10 Things You All Must Know About My Birthday

Long story short - I had an epic birthday. Well, an odd way to begin a post about the most special day which greets me in an entire year, but that is it. Epic could well be an understatement. Crazy is more like an apt word, and I mean the highest degree of crazy at that. Birthdays, or any celebrate-able occasions have always been kind of big affairs for me. My dear, dear friends, this time around, proved how affairs could be made bigger and grander and unforgettable. The celebrations began four days early, went on for about a week (if you could include all the pleasant hangover) and left me exhausted, but with a happy smile on my face. I cannot name and thank everyone involved here, in this post - because open display of affection and honest admissions have their pitfalls, and because all content is not for everyone - but I will still whisper gratitude to all those awesome people who inhabit my world, and who make life a brilliant journey to travel through.

That's how it began at Jamia

There are a few things I would like to tell you all about my birthday though. I am not sure, but I think I will go and name this post as 10 Things You All Must Know About My Birthday. So, here, the ten things which will always make me remember turning 24. I am not just promising cheese and flowers, but salt and lemon too. Let's begin.

#1 The Birthday Poster

Now, did you ever have a poster proclaiming your birthday has arrived? Well, I had not one, not two, but three of those posters promptly made and displayed by two of the most awesome, creative, innovative artists I know! These posters were pretty and funny and so endearing, that I ended up believing my birthday this time was going to overshadow all the previous 23 ones put together. When it begins at gorgeous, it ends at gorgeous. Mostly, yes.

Aastha di and Neha - thank you for this one! 

#2 A Day Out With Mamma

This was new, and special, and fun. I like using 'and' a lot. It projects a chain for me, which could keep subsuming experiences, and thoughts, and words in an unbroken connect. Having 'and's' is kind of cosy - you can have it all, and have it at one place. And with Mamma, and my sister, and two of my dearest friends, I had the first of its kind shopping day out, which was topped by a quiet lunch of tea, pasta and sandwiches, and which got rounded off by some more shopping off the Janpath flea market. I've made a mental note of making more such days happen!

On our way out, for shopping!

#3 The Afremov Connect

Now, people just know that it was Leonid Afremov who made me fall in love with colours. And so, two of the most awesome painters in the world got down to task to paint me some breathtakingly gorgeous Afremov-like paintings! I am keeping them safe and closed. On the most appropriate day, they shall come out and decorate a space which is an extension of all that I stand for.

Some colours and some light - all wrapped as perfect gifts!

#4 The Twitter Chaos

Some fantastic brains adept at handling social media were employed to run a 'tweetathon' two nights before my birthday to just talk sweet things about me. Honestly, it was embarrassing - but it was super fun too! There was a guy on twitter who called it an ego massage. It could well have been that, but for me, it was also a positive reinforcement my life had been severely lacking. Thanks twitterati!

Very creative invite for the Tweetathon!

#5 More Social Media Chaos

They all wanted to make me feel like a celebrity, and the first step in that direction, which my extremely loving and irritatingly creative friends took was to develop social media profiles in my name. So, there was (is) a functioning twitter handle, a Facebook page, and an e-mail id created to keep me flooded with electronic updates loaded with excitement of anticipation. This is, veritably crazy stuff. Crazily crazy.

#6 The Kids

There are too many to name. And they are always around, to show their love and also to ask for love. They are all a gift God has given me to feel special, and to be privileged enough to make them feel special too. The paint, draw, ask for longer hugs, want to take me out on dates, or for bowling; they let me in on their secret conversations, they even cry with me when times are rough - and they basically love me as much as I love them. And this, my dear friends, is a gift. To love, and to be loved back.

#7 Mr. Ashok Chakradhar

How awesome could it feel when a bunch of friends conspire to invite your favourite poet as a surprise for your birthday? Ashok Chakradhar ji has been a favourite since I first saw him on television in a show called Wah Wah! I could meet him only for a little while, but cutting the cake with him, hearing him recite his poems and being gifted a heart-breakingly pretty crystal lotus by him are sweet bits of memory I shall always savour!

#8 Bhagwan Das Ji and Cultural Extravaganza

No part of my body was not enjoying when Bhagwan Das Ji, the legendary puppeteer, singer, poet, performer came down to perform specially for my birthday! He is a repository of dying traditions and cultural practices, facing his own share of apathy from those authorities which have a reputation of being insensitive when it comes to their own interests. However, personal hardships aside, he sang like a true performer - filling us all with Rajasthani and Sufi melodies. Kailash bhaiya, his second in command, took over to then put up some fine showmanship, which included puppet dances which were breathtaking and unbelievable. An artist who knows his craft can breathe life into the lifeless.

#9 Mr. Harivansh Rai Bachchan

He could definitely not have come down for my birthday, but I invoked him for some solid life advice. We're all transient, and dispensable - and if to this truth we do not awaken, we're being plain unjust to ourselves and the world around us. Leaving behind things which are dear is never easy - but sometimes, moving on, even if with tears, is the only option. One of the greatest poets of our country taught that in a perfect poem his scribbled ages back. The beautiful consolation was that his son, Mr. Amitabh Bachchan, sent me an autograph scribbled on my portrait, along with four other famous names - Gulzar sahab, Shaan, Hariharan ji and Mr. Manmohan Singh. How do my friends even make these things happen is crazy.

#10 The Magicians

And there are so many of them. They're also known as friends, but for now, I shall call them magicians. I can never say enough about them, so let's leave it there. Over past few months, I've lost some, gained some, reconnected with some and fallen madly in love with some. My cup is full, so full, that it continues to brim over in a smile or in a fond tear.

These are only two of the many faces which make my world special

Such celebrations should happen only once in life. To all the gorgeous people who were a part of my day, I'd just say - stay close, you're all valued. And my life makes sense and has meaning because of all of you.

On that note, the day ended. 

To Moments Which Hold On...

Some days do not require a label for being called a celebration. They just inherently carry a celebratory air. These days need not necessarily be a birthday, an anniversary or anything close. Such days could just be a lingering thought on your mind about some extremely special moments you spent with a loved one. These moments might not be the first of their kind - but by the sheer intensity of what you share, they elevate themselves above all similar times and expressions, and become priceless, to be cherished till whatever is your concept of eternity. One such day is today, when I had a long telephone conversation with a friend, who has alternated between roles of a bestie and that bordering on filial protectiveness. This phone conversation was neither the first, nor the last of its kind - but it was an experience where the world ceased existing except for the phone in my hand and the voice reaching my ears from the other side. This phone call happened around seven years ago, at about three thirty pm in the afternoon - and there was nothing exceptional in the chit-chatting except for the fact that it gave me a sense of finally having arrived at a safe, secure place in life, and of having entered a bond which was meant to last.

My blog, at one point, was a place I honoured the most special people in my life from. I believe in expressions, but they are best left cryptic at times - for meaning to ooze out from pores which have deliberately been poked in a narrative. For the bravest person I know, I scribbled a dozen lines some ten minutes back - and they seemed pretty enough to be shared here. And so I am.

A toast, to moments which don't stop existing even long after they have passed!

Picture Perfect - January

This year did not start for me on a particularly good note, but that is the subject of an altogether different post. Here, I want to introduce you all to the point where it turned around, where I figured that blessings currently in my life are such that any and all hurdles can be overcome, must be overcome. Random elation greeted me on an excited phonecall when a dear friend, confidante, elder, mentor (and so much more), told me he had made my portrait! The element of surprise did not end here; it heightened when I realized that the portrait is actually a magazine collage - and a trusted expert told me this activity requires both - skill and time. I still shiver with excitement when I look at it - and its the perfect picture with which I am resuming my monthly picture perfect posts. Here, have a look. Isn't it completely incredible?

The happiness continued, when upon my whatsapp window, knocked another artistic genius - another portrait, this time made out of tea leaves! Now. I won't say anything, but let you all have a look at it.

I am a happy girl. Narcissistic, yes, but happy too. Any words of gratitude for this grand gesture are too less. So I will shut up. And go to sleep. And bring to mind yet again all those factors which count as blessings in life. 

That's Not The Point!

Baat yeh nahi hai ki tum sundar ho.

Kyunki tumhe tumhaare bare mein bataane baithe,

Toh yeh baat bahut chhoti hai

Kya dhang se tumhe shabdon mein bayaan kar paayenge

Is soch pe shanka bhi hoti hai

Par ab baat karne ki thaan li hai

Der se sahi, waqt ne bhi yeh khwaahish jaan li hai

Kuchh lakeeron ko andekha kardoon

Toh is bhool ko andekha tum kar dena

Kuchh sawaal main khade kar doon, 

Toh unhe jawaabon ki roshni se tum bhar dena

Ab baat yeh nahi nahi ki tum jawaab likh deti ho

Baat toh yeh hai phir bhi kitne sawaal

Hal kiye hain tumne

Kitne hi pareshaan, neeras kono mein

Rang bhare hain tumne

Yeh toh jeevan ke us pehlu jaisa hai

Jo khali bhi, aur dukhdaayi bhi tha

Par jiske bare mein main jaanti nahi thi

Jab tak tumne usko bhar na diya

Dekhi apni achchhai?

Mere jeevan mein ek dukh ko aane se pehle tok diya

Ab baat yeh bhi nahi hai ki tum achchhi ho

Par tum yeh zaroor sikha deti ho

Ki achchhai kya hoti hai

Koi aankhein padh paaye tumhari toh jaane

Ki sachchai kya hoti hai

Par yeh jo aankhein hain tumhari,

Yeh jheel ke khamosh paani jaisi hain

Jinki gehraai maapi nahi ja sakti

Jinki kahaani aanki nahi ja sakti

Kabhi kabhi, khud se hi bhar

Chhalak jaati hain, kuchh kehna ho jaise

Tab darr lagta hai, aur mann kehta hai

Yeh moti sab khud mein sametoon main kaise?

Baat yeh nahi hai ki tum ek kahaani ho

Baat toh yeh hai ki tum mein kisse baste hain

Jeevan ke jo mool hai, who unhi kisso mein toh sajte hain

Ek ek seekh, sabak, ek ek kissa, 

Kitni khubsurti se piroya tumne 

Us mala mein, jo kuchh bhaari zaroor hai

Par amulya bhi, anubhav aur gyaan ratn se

Jiski chamak adrishya zaroor hai

Par jo roshni phailaati hai seedhe antar man se

Kuchh roshni ke kan tumne mujhe bhi diye

Un pyaare palon mein jo tumhare saath jiye

Baat yeh nahi hai ki tum mujhe pyaari ho

Baat yeh hai ki shayad tum khud pyaar ho

Jiska pehla hissa jab mujhe mila tha

Toh samajhne mein thodi der lagi thi

Vishwaas nahi kar pa rahi thi na, 

Jisse dhoondha bhi nahi, woh apneaap dikhi thi

Par ab, tum jitna bhi do

Woh pyaar poora, par kam padta hai

Aur miloon, dekhoon, seekhoon aur jaanoo

Yeh lagaav (jo tumse hai), ab tang karta hai

Mujhe pata hai, tum aisi hi rahogi

Par mere aas paas se kabhi gaayab mat hona

Ek rishta mila hai maayoos sadiyon ke baad

Jaayaz se thoda darna, aur tumse yeh darkhwaast karna

Ki chahe jis raste zindagi le jaaye,

Theek lage, toh mujhe saath le chalna

Akhir mein, baat yeh nahi hai ki tum Aastha ho

Matlab, Aastha toh tum ho hi, 

Par us se kitni zyada ho, yeh batana ab mumkin nahi hoga

Kabhi aur uthayenge phir kalam

Yeh baatein khud tak rakh pana jab aasaan nahi hoga 

This poem came to me on one inspired morning, when I walked out of the warm quilt to tap away on the keyboard my understanding of perhaps the most precious, unexpected gift life sent my way, in her. I wish calling her beautiful, or good, or awesome, or amazing, or even phenomenal was enough. But it is not. Beauty resides so deep within her being, that it makes her glow with a kind of radiance I have not observed in men or women around me. She is different, and rich, and a personification of most manifestations of goodness one can perhaps conceive or conjure. But that's not really the point. I mean, anything I say about her will never be sufficient either to describe what she is like, or to describe what I feel for her. I only, time and again, wish that she, Aastha didi, remains around me always for those doses of inspiration, and those reassuring words of understanding which have come to mean so much to my daily existence. Loving her is a privilege I hope to keep for life. 

Wish you the warmest winters Aastha didi. You've learnt to give the perfect hugs at the perfect time! 

One of those rare times when she is not camera-shy :) 

Picture Perfect - December

I know its a little early for this post, but the above picture left me so excited, that I had to share it on my blog, as soon as I could. This was taken on a chilly Delhi afternoon in Aurobindo Market areas, where the flower vendor was still putting his shop together, and was kind enough to let two mad women get themselves clicked in the company of his beautiful flowers. The other mad woman is my friend Neha, who has been complicit in most of my crazy plans in the past few months. You will find her picture below.

There is another reason why for me to have put this picture up. A dear friend of mine, Gopan, found this picture inspirational enough to convert it into a Christmas gift for me. In a beautifully crafted mini-story, called "Memory of a Winter Morning", he has inserted this picture to add a visual glow. And, to be honest, with the story about a girl who sold flowers running in the background, I think this frame looks a lot prettier. A heartfelt thank you to him. 

To all readers of my blog, a Merry Christmas! You all deserve a special thank you for being with me on this journey upto a lakh views. I usually give you all flowers when I need to express gratitude. This time is no different. Roses, gladiola, lilies, carnations - look to my left and take your pick. Thanks for dropping by and leaving your valuable feedback. It feels nice to know that whatever I write is not for nothing, that there will be people who will read it, and also, perhaps, get back to me on it. You make me want to continue writing. Thank you all so much. 

And here is my pretty friend, with more flowers - Neha!

Rich With Life!

Clouds gather lustre

Nature comes to life

Dew emits sparkles

All in her one smile

Makes me love her more, much more

It was an ordinary day when she came to my life. However, any day there after I spent with her, was anything, but ordinary. She has occupied my mind and heart for the better part of 2012. I know there are people convincing you that 2012 the world will end. I can confidently denounce their claims as grand 'rubbish', for it is in this 'doomed' year, that I got a new lease of life. In her.

She chirps to brighten my morning. She laughs like no one's watching. She is conscious of the world around her, yet, she dares to carve another, mini world of her dreams and fantasies around her. Gentle, and naive - she easily grants entry to anyone in her world - her realm of imagination, of blooming flowers, of flowing rivers, of magic, of angels, of darkness, of good triumphing over evil, of niceness pervading all hearts, of love binding people together. It is hard to imagine - a girl, whose visions hold so much piety, how pure would be her heart?

I began this post thinking, I will write her story. That, would be one of first birthday gifts I would surprise her with. However, when I closed my eyes, to conjure her face - my muse for now - only a million descriptions swam in my head.  It is her birthday today, a day no less special to me than her, for it is today I can celebrate her, her existence, her presence in my life. Actually, I do it each day, albeit secretly. Today, the show can be opulent. And it is not her story I need to write, that privilege is entirely hers. I can only cast a subtle impression in words of the grand personality my friend is. Tiny eyed, kind hearted, scared of traffic, proud of her friends, always available to help - all these words are but insufficient capsules to contain the phenomenon Neha is (yes, Neha, that's her name) - and it will take many, many more posts for me to chronicle what time spent with her has been like.

Coolest place in Delhi, and the coolest people in town!

Right now, as my eye lids become heavy, I plan to whisper these wishes into the cold air of night, hoping they are carried as a murmur to her ears.

Dear Neha, 
I pray for your life to be rich. Not (just) with wealth, but with love. You have so much in you too give, and you deserve so much more in return. Just know, you will always get your due, and rewards will always come your way, just not from the direction you expect. Have faith in the grander plans life has for you. Make your talents speak for you. Persevere and excel. 

My God protect you from pain.
May Life be kind on you.
May the stars watch you over.

Happy Birthday!

Love,
Saumya 

Your pictures look lovely with me, hence only 'couple' pictures allowed!

Picture Perfect - October

Not all sibling relations boast of expressiveness. However, all sibling relations do have an undercurrent of love flowing richly through their invisible interiors. This love does not raise its head always; in fact, this love revels in chiding, in taking digs at each other - even in openly refuting the existence of any such love! Softer sides are not for everyone to take pride in. That said, it is also true that this soft, loving side gets activated when one sibling sees the other get threatened, vulnerable or melancholic. Somehow, troubling our brother/sister is entirely our prerogative, isn't it?

The above ranting is to give preface to the most wonderful visual which my eyes grazed on this whole month. It was a post-birthday gift for my sister - and its only once in years I get this expressive towards her. I thought I should share it on my blog.

PS - The super-cheesy lines on this poster are not mine; they belong to Hartley Coleridge.

PS 2- I think sometimes we want to make our siblings feel better so that 'we' (only we and no one else) can regain control on making their lives miserable. Especially if its a younger brother/sister we are talking about. Isn't it?

The Girl Who Asked For Too Many Surprises

I wish this post were a short fiction about this little girl with mischievous gleam in her eyes and a soft, innocent smile on her face who went around asking people for gifts without specifying what she wants. But sadly enough, this post is not a story about that girl, unless a few people might think that that girl's description possibly applies to me. Does it? I don't know, but I have a queer feeling in the pit of my stomach which says that some people might agree to the above stated. Few of those some people might be the closest friends to me. Oh, and aptly enough, those are the people, and not the girl herself, who are the subject of this post.

An old wish fulfilled, due to my cousin's crazy affection for me. Thanks Tapan!

I sang, and danced, and shouted around since weeks before my birthday as to how excited I am for it. Few smiled, few scoffed, mostly people ignored. My birthdays in school days fell during holiday season and during college days fell in the exam season. In short, the timing of my birthday was a recipe for disaster for a girl who takes such keen interest in dates and looks to celebrate even the most insignificant among them. However, something special was in store for me this time around. Without waiting, like I usually did, for people to create that perfect birthday ambiance around me, I went ahead and did it on my own. I bought myself trinkets. I saved up to buy some grand gift for myself. I fooled around a lot. I allowed myself to have an impossible wishlist and secretly sneered when people thought what a perfect lampooning crackhead I am. I went out and risked things and people beyond my comfort zone. God knows what all I did in order to feel like an idiot, but a happy idiot this time around.

However, this birthday was different in many respects from the previous ones. It is not a facebook addict's typical line I steal when I say I had the best birthday ever. 'Tis true. Reasons galore, few I would like to share.

This was my first birthday where I got to see three whole cakes dedicated to me. Now that is HUGE by any standards I have set for myself in life. The cake season was on the wane in my life till it was revived this year by three very thoughtful sources-best being the one my family brought in for me.

Fruits and glaze and cream and chocolate- dad does know the best! 

A regular chocoholic, I had never quite eaten anything like this one. Oh wait, what was its name, again?

A third cake had manifested itself in front of my eyes via the people who have been a source of tremendous consistency in my life for past some years. Their presence was almost a certainty for my day, and I did revel in this lack of unpredictability. Despite having studied in a girls' college, I have had many boys as (almost) my college mates, and the ones I would specifically thank for embarrassing, but entertaining me on my birthday are- Mujeeb, Mittal, Diwakar, Namit, and Mudit. Pampered and cared for- among them I feel safe.

That one expression describes most of my expressions- but the people thanked above have much their own interpretations and sound and visual effects for the same.

An odd yet special little bond had happened to develop between my and a young student at an event I had once went as a judge-cum-chariperson to. A precocious ninth standard student sat among confident college goers and unleashed on them his intellect and oratorial skills with baffling ease. More than inside, my relationship with Anup grew outside the committee. In a very sweet gesture, from a person so far away from my immediate landscape of life, manifested itself in my inbox. Red and bright and warm. Needlessly said, I loved it!

Another surprise awaited me in my gmail inbox. It was a masterpiece of crazy creativity sent my way from a girl who has been a part of my heart ever since I can remember. Her artistry lent me, not smiles, but guffaws. In a gesture commensurate with hers, I would thank her by accepting her perceptions of me as reflected in this ingenious poster. Thanks Niyati Kochhar!

Two extremely endearing gifts came my way from the girl I call my Goddess, with whom the readers of my blog would only be too well aware. Cheistha Kochhar is one hell of a talented woman, the kind whose talents cannot be bundled together in a single category or genre. On demand, she got me a painting and a flower arrangement she herself assembled. Here is a glimpse of them both.

As weird as it might sound, but I have never gotten something which can lexically be described as a surprise on my birthday. This time, hence, I went around telling people to surprise me. For once, I am glad that the only girl I did not ask to surprise me took my words seriously. Cheistha brought together few of my dearest friends to create what would remain my favorite memory from all the recent events. As I was still absorbing the presence of Pallak Jagga (the sunshine, as friend better than the best) around me, I was greeted by two nonchalant figures waiting for me at a restaurant table, one of whom was supposedly sick and another out of town. Saurabh and Rohan were perhaps all I needed to make the celebrations not just complete, but special. From these two, a few things still remain due.

Two cups of coffee later, when I was finally returning home in the metro, thinking that the best is now over, a brawl broke out in the metro coach I was traveling in. A twisted middle aged men was hurling abuses in front of his daughter and wife over the occupation of a seat at an older and more decent couple. When I might have felt bitter and angry or scared, I felt happy for having witnessed a scene in which right and like-minded set of people came together to support the ones being humiliated by the abuse-spouting uncle. I smiled inwardly and decided to thank everyone, aside from those bold but polite people in the metro, who made sure I was happy on the day I most wanted to be.

Tarique and Sumit and Gopan- Thanks for all the pampering.
Cheistha- Thanks for just being yourself
Pallak- Your one smile is enough, but thanks for a long familiar hug.
Mudit and Diwakar- Thanks for getting me paintings in the perfect color.
Mittal and Namit- Thanks for creating an Awww Moment
Saurabh- Thanks for just coming. And the two cups of coffee.
Tapan- As I said, thanks for the crazy affection, a frame and a new friend.
Rohan- For smiles, and pleasantness, cheesiness and that refreshingly fresh tone of yours.
Manan Bhaiya- Thanks for the consistency in taking my wishes seriously.
And Mujeeb- Thanks, for too much to be simply put in words.

"Reach high,

For the stars lie hidden in your soul.

Dream,

For every dream precedes a goal."

-Cheistha Kochhar

First Gift

For about a month now, I have been posting the most impossible, insane and ludicrously self-advertising birthday wishlist on twitter, much to the annoyance of my twitter followers, I am sure. My birthday is still 14 days away, but I like making my demands much in advance. So I did. However, nothing beats the charm of subtle surprises that come your way to make you feel nice, revived and loved. There came my way a sweet picture surprise from my dear friend (My Goddess). Though I share this picture with many more recipients and it isn't exactly a slice for my birthday, I am still taking the liberty of officially considering it my first gift and posting the same here. Cheistha, who very thoughtfully shared this picture with exquisite words with me, is slightly more than a mere inspiration for me. But what that 'more' might be, I am yet to understand.

Ridiculous. I was supposed to have kept dumb and shared the picture. Look at me! Can never get enough of words.

Here is, what I pompously declare as my first gift from a dear friend. The irony, unfortunately, is true, as I have been explained today.

The 7X7 Link Award

I have just been initiated into the world of blog awards, primarily due to the kindness of a blogger who writes under the curious guise of The Serious Butterfly. Her name is Sanchari, and this colorful butterfly flaps her wings over numerous ideas and issues and employs some beautiful words to provide contours to hitherto formless thoughts. She is an artist too- the hues of creativity splashed on her blog will make you realize her caliber.

And the reason for my current obsession with her and her blog is that she has conferred on me my first ever blog award! Honestly, the concept of Blog Awards has still to appeal to me in full glory, but accepting it as a gesture of appreciation does wonders to nourish the writer inside me. It makes me happy for the fact that while I am but a miniscule speck floating amid the current of millions of upcoming writers of brilliant potential, some people out there are  noticing my words and encouraging me to keep them flowing.

I am following Sanchari's lead. As I have learnt a few hours back, there are rules to acceptance of this award. They are flexible, but the ones adopted by Sanchari are fun, hence I'll make use of her research, with some special words of gratitude being sent her way.

Rules to this award:
1. Thank the person who gave it to you.
2. Share 7 unusual things about yourself.
3. Share 7 of your worthy posts under the following heads- Most Beautiful Piece, Most Helpful, Most Popular, Most Controversial, Most Surprisingly Successful, Most Underrated, and Most Pride Worthy.
4. Nominate seven other bloggers and notify them.

#1 Gratitude

Dear Sanchari, I formally thank you for making me feel awesome at the dead of the night. My first blog award will always be remembered. It might so happen that it will be the only one to be remembered, since I do not foresee more coming my way, but that dismal picture shall be painted some other day.

 #2 Seven Unusual Things About Myself

One- I am a very clumsy eater, and I try to hide this fact, resulting into a clumsier eater in the attempt. This is the reason I never eat my subs in company; they are always packed and eaten in the solitude of home.
Two- I love silver jewellery, and often think that on the progressive path, I will skip gold and graduate to diamonds and platinum straightaway. For the time being, I am saving to buy some silver pieces I have been eyeing for a long period.
Three- I have a habit of hugging special words and sleeping. How? By clutching to my bosom my journal, a nice novel, some rare letters or even my phone if it pings with a touching SMS.
Four- No matter where I go, I always carry a pen and my journal along.
Five- Agrasen Ki Baoli and Nizam-ud-din Auliya's Dargah are my favorite places in Delhi, at least for the time being.
Six- I am a listener and observer- I think that in each element around me hides a story waiting for me to discover it.
Seven- I hate being answerable for any of my actions. I work hard towards avoiding any situation where I am answerable, but often ruin things by trying too hard.

#3 Seven Posts

Most Beautiful -  An Engagement Mills & Boon Style!
Descriptively the most beautiful, this post takes inspiration from a real live love story to paint some fictional scenes. Among my own writings, it has a sacrosanct status.
Most Helpful - At The Edge Of Sunshine
In this post I record some musings which I want to remember forever. Written based on a chance meeting with a relative stranger, this article talks of the importance of been shaken out of our comfort zones to realize our true potential in life and the perils of stereotyping our own selves. Helps me, has helped a few others too.
Most Popular- Valentine Art Affection
Sitting on top since the very day it got posted, this post based on the magic of Leonid Afremov's brush strokes beats all the other in number of individual page views by miles. It is a visual delight, and a welcome break from my customary lethargically long posts.
Most Controversial- Revelation
It is a nice post, once again extremely close to my heart, but it is the only one on which a critical debate has arisen right here, on my blog itself. While the content was appreciated, the controversy hinged around my proclivity for grandiloquent words, my untamed verbosity of expression..err...and I think I did it again!
Most Surprisingly Successful- Understanding Them/ Beauty Lies In Distortions
This was my first guest post with which I ventured into an area I seldom explored- psychological vestiges of experiences during adolescence. More than comments, it fetched me numerous words of gratitude sent via personal mediums. When we are brave enough to share thoughts we feel tormented with, we might actually inadvertently end up helping someone else- this I learnt from this guest post experience.
Most Underrated- Winter Reminiscences- That Story
If the comments are anything to go by, then I feel this post did not get the attention it deserved. I tried to figure out, but could not find reasons as to why. Motherhood is not a topic I touch upon often in my post, and when here I did, I thought I did a decent job of it.
Most Prideworthy- That Walk Down My College
I know I did a good job with this piece of writing. Besides getting me noticed among some people of reckoning, it narrated with devoted honesty a simple incident which left a profound impact on me.

#4 New Set Of 7X7 Link Award Recipients

Yarn of Words by Aakrity Malik
The25thHour by Archika Poria
Monumental Crankiness by Rahul Biswas
A Portrait Of Emotion by Priyanka Tampi
Nirvana by Aavika Dhanda
Words by Saru Singhal
Hausle Buland by Kunal

Fledgling Affection

"So, what would be the top five things you do if the 2012 fiasco were to happen?"
Kanika Chaturvedi left this query for me @twitter a day before. I had never given it a thought. If the world were to end, as has been predicted in some quarters, in the year 2012, what would be top five things I would want to do? The high bred among my stock of friends would snub the query, as useless confabulations of some vacuous brains. But it was an interesting note to have welcomed in the year 2012 with. So, I tweeted.

The first interesting detail I would remember from the year 2012 would be the following five points, which are the innocent first thoughts to have entered my brain. I find them naive and cute at the same time, and I am copy pasting them straight from twitter. Of course, with slight bit of my musings accessorizing them at their tail end.

#1 I have letters to write. I want to finish them before the world ends.

As said earlier, I love the whiff of paper. There are certain traditional paradigms, which, I wish, had not been hijacked by the technology which establishes itself as an omnipotent deity at present.  Writing letters is a romantic's delight! Quite obviously, hence, it is mine. There are some I started on. Some are pure cheese and corn mixed together to let my special ones know they are special. Some others are important confessions of guilt, hurt and anger which I wanted to convey to dear kith after putting thought and heart in it. They lie incomplete. But they are cozy reminders of how much I value those who make my world. And if it were the world, my world coming to an end, these I intend to complete as a first priority. Sounds bollywood-ish? Well, that's what I grew up watching. (

#2 There is a large chunk of Italian Cuisine I still have to taste. Learning it won't make sense anymore.
To call myself an inveterate foodie would be an understatement. I recently started falling for Italian cuisine, realizing quite late that luscious Italian culinary specialties are naturally made for me. I am 'cheesy' and 'corny' in my thoughts and writings, may be also in my appetite. Those dollops of cheese of a dozen different kinds, that creaminess, that subtle aroma of herbs, and the generous quantities of corns and mushrooms in different preparations- this is stuff that dreams are made of. Give chocolates and give me cheese- I won't have a single regret before dying then.

#3 There are some people I met via WSDC/EOC interactions, who are in need of urgent smiles and warmth. They will take my attention.

Hugs and smiles in copious quantities, to everyone walking past by. On a serious note though, being at the helm of organizations like Women Studies and Development Cell and Equal Opportunity Cell made me come across some faces and some stories that can touch anyone at the softest spot in their heart. These were stories of courage, of despair, of honesty, of losses, of dreams, of daring, of tears and of smiles. The faces behind these stories, some at least, don't need, but deserve some genuine smiles and warm hugs. 2012 or not- this one thought I intent to keep. At some places at least, we should not procrastinate.


#4 I dream of a novel. To compensate hastily, I will compile Nascent Emissions into a book, printed with a jazzy cover, & kiss it when done.
It was supposed to be a secret dream, but the moment I posted on twitter, being a published author no longer remained secret, but it still remains a dream. I realized it a moment too late, but the thought of the alternative devised to suit the requirements of ending time filled me with mirth. Nascent Emissions forms an important part of my subconscious, I realized. And why should it not? It has been a companion for the most special of my thoughts and ideas.

#5 I will marry!

Oh yes! This, I will. Now is not the best time to write on it, because I am filled with the visions of passion which surface when Elizabeth Turner (the heroine of a compelling Barbara Bradford historical fiction which I am reading currently) meets her love and is consumed by it before she can take another breath. However, this is perhaps the most important part of my top five. So, even though the visions are their, describing them is a near impossible task. I can only share a chuckle and some knowing smiles with other fellow romantics, females specifically, for they would know why this wish. All this romance, it has to go somewhere, isn't it?

Thanks Kanika Chaturvedi, for being the idea behind this post. More gratitude for giving my these silly smiles and thoughts. Not all of them are silly though. He was an intelligent man who asked us to live each day as our last. To do a few things mentioned above, and a few more things which are pullulating inside my brain, I do not really need to wait for the end of the world. What should be done, must be done. So, except for the marriage bit, I shall do all. Its a better note to begin the year on, rather than resolving to lose weight, because, as Sonal Kalra puts it, 'woh hota toh hai nahi'.

And now that I mention her name, I am also reminded of the fact that I wanted to dedicate my first post of the year to the people I love. But Ms. Sonal Kalra stopped me. In her casual yet persuasive tone, she churned out another priceless set of calmness tricks, this time on the first day of 2012. Her article, titled Are You Ready To Fall In Love? was about just that, falling in love, not with anyone, but your own self. Her fabulous quill yet again worked its magic, and made me want to dedicate the first post of they year to myself. I will heed her advice and not spend the year seeking the approval of others. I will make sure I have my own.

“To fall in love with oneself is the beginning of a life long romance.” –Oscar Wilde

PS- All this new blissful affection, its my new year gift for myself. I believe in gifts, remember? I hope you all do to :) Love and best wishes for a great year(s) ahead! Even though my most clairvoyant friend thinks this is the last, I'm happily assuming the opposite.

Mere liye :)