Missing link.

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Hello dear readers, I know it has been a while since I last posted a write up but it kind of was a set back for me when the last¬†article I wrote by putting in so much thought, didn’t attract many readers. Nonetheless, I write to share my thoughts, to put them out in the open and I am sure that somewhere down the line I will connect to my audience ūüôā .

 

If I haven’t mentioned already, I have been home alone since the 16th of this month as my husband was detailed to go somewhere for a task. This was the first time ever that I have lived all by myself. Strange isn’t it? I am 27 ¬†now, never experienced hostel life or been a paying guest. Never lived away from family, ever. Every time he had to leave, I used to plonk myself at my parents’ or at my in laws. But this time I was too far away from home, so the question of being around familiar blood ties didn’t arise. ¬†However, the strange part about this arrangement was that I didn’t miss any one. Of course I missed sharing the bed with my love, who wouldn’t? I missed having him around to talk to, to cook for, to sing with, to bathe, to make love to etc. But it was just a matter of time till I got used to not having him around.

I felt a little evil inside because truth be told, I thought I will be miserable when he leaves and that I will be home sick. Sooner than later I realized that I am someone who needs her ‘ME’ time. I got around to doing things I have a certain amount of passion towards and in the process I completely lost myself, taking each day as it comes. Ideal situation is where the better half counts days till she reunites with her loved one, but here I was only counting on days to finish what I had started.

These past few days have been very productive and kind towards me, but all in all I do miss my baby, I am eagerly waiting to touch him, to share with him whatever little that I have done for myself as I know that he will be the only one to make me feel like I have achieved something great at the end of the day. So in conclusion, “we may not be related by blood, but for you, I will bleed and my heart will beat”.

 

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The mistress.

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She sat on the bed, with the cupboard opened right in front of her and donned her typically¬†clueless expression. When it came to clothes, she could never get enough. ¬†It was always very tough for her to decide what to wear for a particular occasion. She used to pick out a few pieces, dump them on the bed, hold them against herself and take a good look in the mirror. And if there was more time, she used to try them on! For silly things like these, she used to consult her husband and bug him till he picked out one ensemble. To him, she looked beautiful in everything she adorned but that’s never a satisfying compliment for her. So even after his decision, she would try to chalk out the pros and cons of the outfit that he chose, finally deciding to wear what SHE thought was perfect for the occasion. Such was their love.

She told herself “If only he was around to help me decide”. She missed him the most during these silly endeavors, however he was far gone. She would always ask herself “Should I call him? Will she be around or will he be free to talk to me?”. They would go hours or sometimes days without talking. Finally, she decided to dial his number. The phone rang the first few times and then went into “unavailable” mode. She was restless, she wanted to speak to him but somehow held herself back. He had packed one night and left the next morning, giving her very little time to comprehend what was happening. She never cribbed or complained, she never called frantically for she knew that “she” was waiting on the other end to bind him to her. But that day, was one of those days where she needed to hear his voice, to feel beautiful about herself and to just remind herself of what she misses for she had ¬†dedicated her everything to him.

After a long wait, her phone finally rang and it was his name that popped up on the screen. She couldn’t gather herself, she felt excited, emotional, irritated and so many mixed feelings ran through her. She received the call and heard him say “Hi baby, sorry I couldn’t attend to your call, how are you?”. The very affectionate term “baby” itself had her covered in goosebumps. “That’s okay. I am good”. She wanted to say so much more but she was just taking it all in minute by minute. He asked again, “Are you sure you are okay boo?”. She let out a heavy sigh and said, “I have missed you SO much. I have been sitting in front of my cupboard for the past hour, not knowing what to wear and I need to attend a party in about 45 minutes. I miss fighting with you, doggy misses you too, so does our garden, so does our car. Why aren’t you here?”. He said, “It’s just a matter of a few days now and I am coming home to you my love.”

“No no I understand that she needs you more right now, and I know that she has always been your priority so be where you have to be, just know that I will be missing you”. She heard him laugh at the other end and say to her, “Why are you so insecure about her? A little jealous rather? She is important to me but so are you. What do you call her again? My mistress huh? Darling, serving the nation is what I swore to do and duty will always be a priority to me but baby YOU are the love of my life and I too miss you a lot, you need to know that”. Suddenly all those feelings left her body and she was calm as the waters for she just needed to hear him say those words. All of us need some reassurance from time to time, don’t we? She went on to asking, “The pink one or the green one”.

 

For the “love” of colors.

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Hello world! I don’t know how many of you are aware of this festival called Holi, that we celebrate in India. For those of you who have no idea about it, it is the festival of colors. We celebrate it by using colored powder that we apply on each other, followed by massive water attacks. Some of us like to make water balloons and target our friends while some others prefer doing it the old school way by filling buckets of water and throwing it from our roof tops. It is on the same lines as the tomatina festival in Spain, just that we don’t use tomatoes.

We all get down and dirty on this day but this festival is celebrated for a reason. They say that even enemies need to call it a truce and reconcile on Holi. Holi is that festival which aims to bring people together. It is the festival of LOVE, love of two divine souls in Hindu mythology. However, this year I find that in many parts of India, people have sworn not to use water.They want it to be a dry Holi. The reason behind this is the rising awareness among the masses, of the water shortage faced by people in some parts of the country. While Holi is mostly a one day affair where gallons of water is wasted, there are some people who are fighting for this precious resource. Facebook being such a strong medium of interaction, the awareness has spread on a large scale.

The thought behind making an effort to save the human race from facing drought makes me really happy on one end but it also angers me when I hear of the very same humans misusing these chemical colors by throwing it on animals. Why can’t efforts be made to avoid cruelty towards those poor voiceless souls? We often get to know of such cruel acts only the day after, once¬†the celebrations come to an end. Animals suffer while humans enjoy! Their skin tends to get itchy, they get rashes and many such grave issues are faced by them. This is a pity because even though most of our population is educated, they are completely illiterate and oblivious when it comes to caring for our ‘abandoned’ or ‘ignored’ animals. I humbly request¬†those¬†of you gearing up to play Holi tomorrow, PLEASE limit it to yourselves! Animals are NOT interested in engaging. So play safe holi, play dry holi and here’s wishing each one of you a very Happy Holi!

Nothing a coffee can’t fix.

It was good to see the bright rays of the sun this morning. Felt like eternity, as I never wake up in time to appreciate what brightens our day, in the literal sense. Today, I stood there(my terrace) and noticed all the things around me which I somehow have not paid much attention to.

To begin with, my garden has orange and yellow flowers, which look pretty wild but absolutely stunning. Breaking those bold colors, there is this small plant which grows lavender colored flowers. They are those delicate flowers with tiny petals which would make for very good dried flowers, after being pressed between the pages of a novel. I regret not taking as much interest in gardening as I should have, but I have now found a new something¬†for me to pursue¬†ūüôā .

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Furthermore, I saw the first Periwinkle, slowly waking up just like me, spreading its beautiful pink petals. I started imagining what mornings would be like for flowers. Do they wake up to face the day, to provide nectar to the bees, to celebrate their beauty or do they wake up with the fear of withering away, of living just for the day. All this while I sipped on some hot filter coffee; it opened up my senses and gave me this new energy just by being around the little patch of nature. So what coffee did to me, a little sprinkling of water did to the plants. They came alive.

I think what I was trying to convey through this post was¬†that, we all have five senses but we aren’t quite aware as to how we can use them to their fullest. I am not generalizing here, but I am sure that like me, there are many others who have moments of awakening, of living, of getting in touch with reality. For me, coffee acted like a catalyst for this particular morning and soon I won’t even be needing that. Thing to remember is, however busy one gets, there is always room for ‘me’ time, which all of you should engage in as I strongly believe that, you are own teacher!

Nacido para bailar (born to dance)

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And 5,6,7,8… I have never loved numbers more than when they are used to start a routine in dance or form beats. Dance found me. When I was 2 years old, my father had taken me to a sugarcane juice vendor near the railway station. We probably traveled by train and to quench his thirst he may have stopped at the stall. Now, the sugarcane machines back then had these tiny bells attached to them. Whenever the machine was running, it made this fine yet catchy tinkling sound as the bells were tied to it. If memory served him right, my father remembers me moving my hip and derriere to match the rhythm of those bells. All this while I was in his arms. He tells me that, that was the cutest sight ever as I just started grooving to the most random sounds and with so much of confidence. My father has a knack of telling stories. He makes you feel like you have lived it even if you haven’t and that is exactly what I feel about this particular memory. This vague image of me dancing in his arms is probably the reason why I started dancing in the first place.

He always encouraged me to do better and to do the things that I love. When it came to dancing, I was always fearless and would go up on stage and perform without any stage fright. Right from school, up until now I haven’t given up on it. I am not one of those dancers you find on dance shows, the highly trained ones. No, I am not! I have been trained but I dance more from my heart. I define the term “letting your hair down”. Dance is something I was born to do, something that gives me utmost happiness and satisfaction. It pulls me up from the dead, literally.

The best experience I have had is with my girlfriends. We dance like nobody’s watching. We always own the dance floor wherever we go and we are so in sync without even trying to coordinate. We reach a different high, we become something new as soon as we enter the bar/pub and we cannot get enough. I think each one of us is passionate about something that’ll make you feel this way. I reckon that all of you should find your passion and bring it out in the open without fearing anything or anyone. If not now, then when? Ask yourself this, I know I have and I am never giving up on it ūüôā

 

Weight and watch !

Love-Your-Curves

Hello readers, i am back! i was hibernating for two and a half months as i didn’t have much of an option. There was no access to internet but its been a while and i’m back with tons of stories for you’ll to read.

Remember how i was whining about wanting to go home to my family? Well, i had excess time with them. I spent these two months entirely with my family and extended family. No more complaining for a long time.

Apart from that, i caught up with my friends, had a wild time with them just like old times and also gained a few pounds in the bargain. Not ashamed of it but currently working on it as i want to fit into my pretty dresses, which somehow seem to have abandoned me.

I have started enjoying food now; something i never particularly liked while growing up. My taste palettes now want to explore different cuisines, flavors and textures. Now, when i love something i do go all out to express it. So gaining a few pounds here and there was never my concern. I have been stick thin so far so i did get a lot of criticism for these extra kilos. Hence i stopped to asked myself, “Does it really bother me?”. Pat came the reply, “NO”. When i asked myself that question i realized how people are bullied or how their self-esteem goes for a toss just ’cause someone passes a remark or has an opinion about the way they are. I want to shout out to all you beautifully curved people out there, “PLEASE DON’T GIVE A FUCK”. Sorry for being this curt but why should anyone have the right to mock you when in the first place you are pretty comfortable in your skin?? Do NOT allow yourself to feel any less just ’cause your cheekbones don’t jut out or ’cause your waist has crossed the 20’s league or that you can’t be a part of the crop top trend.

On the other hand, it is good to be fit but it isn’t necessary for survival. One just needs to be healthy, no matter what the size. So darlings, embrace yourself and love what you are instead of succumbing to the stereotypical image of what a woman should be. YOU are what a woman should be, never forget that!