If You Weren’t Afraid

By Priya Singh

I came across this line while reading the book ‘Lean In: Women, Work, and The Will to Lead’. It says:

‘So please ask yourself: What would I do if I weren’t afraid? And then go do it.’

While it may mean different things to different people, it gives a common message to all.

“Confront your fears”.

Now the real deal: What would you do if you weren’t afraid?

I was reading about this on a Q&A site and could find all kind of answers, from falling off a big cliff somewhere, to selling everything.

For someone, it may mean sleeping alone at night, taking up swimming lessons, voicing yourself at your workplace, eating a complete meal with your parents, being quite for an entire hour, etc. etc.

It might sound silly but it means something entirely different to me.

What would I do if I weren’t afraid? Well, I’ll go on a road trip all alone to the most haunted places in the world. While you may make the mistake of thinking I am afraid of haunted sites, that’s actually not the case.

Instead of the places, I am afraid of the people. I am afraid of the people judging me. I am afraid of my safety in my own land. And most of all, I am afraid of those demotivators who are lined up, waiting eagerly for one reckless act of mine.

I have discussed my crazy intentions with quite a no. of friends, and it’s disappointing to not find a single one encouraging me to go ahead. Maybe they would have been more supportive if the world was actually a safer place for a lone female traveler.

They give me suggestions to start with Thailand or Bangkok, but India is a definite NO. But this enrages me. After all, this is my country I am talking about. Don’t I have the right to feel safe here, irrespective of the time and the place? If this is not true, we really need to think about this and we need to think hard.

This has to change. It’s high time now.

  

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"About the author"

I am an Indian female, have crossed a quarter of my life (assuming I am going to reach the maximum average age of humans without being consumed in the zombie apocalypse ) without knowing where am I heading and I have learnt the definitions of Geek and Nerd by heart.  Apart from that, I am a Software Developer by profession (Yes, I know every other person is…and I agree I am not contributing anything extraordinary to the humankind). I love to read and spend most of my salary on books (for which I have to face regular rantings from my parents). I have recently discovered that I love travelling (come on, its not like I am 50 and I just discovered I am single!) but I am still searching for some guidance  to fulfill my crazy travel ideas.

Staccato

By Kartheik Iyer

The sun. Now orange. Now red. Blazing. Iridescent. Portentous. Humbling. Setting.

Its reflection. His eyes. His face. Stubble. A tear. Salty to taste. The sea. The waves. Little boat on the horizon. Bobbing.

The breeze. The smell of fish. The taste of salt. Of memories. Bygones. Possibilities.

The seagulls. Fly. Glide. Circle. Fish. Dip. Miss. Dip. Catch. Eat.

Rocks. Vein-encrusted. Tidebreakers. Sturdy. Stolid. Weathered. Worn.

Clouds. Contrast. Shapes. Of wishes. Of dreams. Drift away.

‘I want to...’

Thoughts. Fragmented. Splintered. Incoherent. Looking. Searching. Lost trains.

Life. Meaning. None. Journey. Pointless. Goal. Unattainable. Game. Whose? Mine. Yours. His? Whose? Somebody. Nobody.

Beautiful? No.

Interesting? Yes.

Spectacles. Opaque. Coulombic. Not inverse. Mundane. Nontrivial. Together. Simple. Lies. Random. Words. Strung. Together. A theory. An explanation. A fact. Contrast. A rationalization. Expectations. Reality.

He sat and thought. For a way to put his thoughts into words. Of any form, in any language. Words. Powerful. Meaningless. Powerless. Wise. Such...., such that it allowed his wandering, traipsing mind to express all kinds of eloquent trivialities, but fell short when he wanted to speak of what mattered.

But what mattered? Initiate cycle. Success? Meaningless. Company? Temporary. Love? No, not that. Freedom? Self imposed. Self declared. Semantics. Life? Not being dead? Achievements? Individual. Meaningless. History? Stories. Depend on the storyteller. Peace? Wishful thinking. Happiness? Too hard. Satisfaction? To whom. Self. How? Success? Full circle. No answers.

He sat and watched the sun set, a reflected fire burning in his hollowed eyes as the incandescent ball ducked below the skyline with deceptive quickness, the lights in his eyes flickering with the stormy sea before they, too, went out altogether, leaving the burnt out husk of what once had possibly been a great man. Softly, he sang to the wind, as they carried the quiet words away,

‘Don’t take away my shine, my shine is all I have...’

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Lots Of Love To Antidepressants

By Pallavi Joshi

Yesterday in class we were being taught about Antidepressants, these are psychiatric medication used to alleviate mood disorders; such as major depression, dysthymia and anxiety disorders such as social anxiety disorders. We were all listening carefully how they worked and affected our body. We noted down all names we could so that when needed could prescribe it to the needy.

Photo credit - Chinmay

In between the lecture I got a text from a friend giving me a bad news. I felt all emotions drain out of me; negative thoughts started their in flow. Soon I went into state medically known as depression. It was impossible for me to pay attention in class, I was having severe headache, wanted to go home and sleep.

Thankfully got the lunch break soon. It was my friend's birthday so we decided to ditch our regular eating joint and go some place else. We decided to travel all the way to the western part of the area to have a burger. It was raining cats and dogs and traffic in Mumbai is worse during rains so what usually took 15mins took us more than 30mins.

A friend of mine who is the baby of our group and a chatter box started to tell me about her experiences in Mumbai. Soon everyone started to share their stories. At first I was resistant, just sat there listening to all talk while my mind on other things. But I couldn't resist for long, I joined them in their crazy talks (we had moved from sharing to down right crazy talks). Not long before I was laughing hard followed by floods of tears and aching stomach muscles.

A passerby couldn't have guessed I was depressed a moment ago. All worries forgotten I had become a sane...oops insanely happy!!!!!!

When back in class and to antidepressant drugs I realized no drug could work the way drug of friendship does. For a drug to effect and cure the disease one needs to believe in it, being resistant doesn't help. But friendship is a kind of drug that fights all the negativity and claws its way in...into your life.
Friendship has no side effect... at least no harmful side effects!!
Friendship is the most precious and wonderful gift created by God. It can come in any form...it can come into your life as your mother, father, sibling, your better half etc.

I feel very lucky to have formed this wonderful bond with many people in my life including my mother(my best friend). My friends have been there for me in good and bad times. They have been the reason for me surviving the depression (and sometimes reason for depression :p).

We rarely realize it but God has provided us with lifetime antidepressant therapy. Sometimes it’s the presence of a friend or his/her words and sometimes just a memory that brings a smile on our lips and joy to our heart even in the worst of time.

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About the author : I am Pallavi Joshi from Indore, at present living in Mumbai. I am an independent, free spirited, nature loving girl. My hobbies are reading, singing and listening to music. Books and me are inseparable. I feel without books I am one single person but when I read I get to live lives of several other characters. I am very passionate about my writing. I like writing short stories, articles etc. I have written several things; at present I am also working on a novel. My writing is really special for me as it reflect the person I am. My inspiration are the people and events around me. 

Ethics And Atheism

By Abhishek Namballa

“You do not need to be an atheist to be ethical”

If at all I have learnt anything from my Humanities elective last semester, the one thing that did stick to my mind was this - Ethics and Atheism are not interdependent on each other. The long and winding arguments of Socrates and Aristotle have only served to reinforce my beliefs. Now here I do concede that I have not read through the entire argument and I certainly do not know how the book ends. But as always these texts are open to many interpretations, so I guess no one can label my interpretation as being improper, though it might be incomplete.

Over the years I have grown and matured. So did my taste for logic. The habit of asking Why and How has prevailed and it has served me well on quite a few occasions – both in academics and life. You see, I have that rebellious bent of mind – anything that does not come with a proper logical reasoning does not appeal to me. So naturally, all the superstitions are at the center of my criticism. I just do not understand how ‘educated’ people can blindly believe in them. Here are a few – when someone sneezes, it is supposed to mean good or bad depending on the number of times you sneeze. Further extensions also include the place where you stand and sneeze. Ghosh!! Gimme a break! It’s been proved scientifically that sneezing is body’s way to remove unwanted materials from the nasal tract. One more very famous one – a black cat crossing your path is a bad omen. Dude! It’s just a cat going about its own business! What has that got to do with your fortunes? And why only a black cat? Why not white or grey or brown? You people are so racist!!! Another one – and this I find most amusing – when someone has hiccups, it is supposed to mean that somewhere, someone is remembering you. Crap!!! Most of us know that it is caused by sudden contraction of our diaphragm. My guess is that this superstition was floated by some lonely soul who liked to think that he was being remembered every time he had hiccups.

The safest route out when people are posed with these questions – “It is a tradition – some ‘wise’ and ‘elderly’ people have said so in the past. That is the reason we follow them.”

How lame is that?!!

I repeatedly hear complaints about the continual and steady erosion of traditional values in today’s world by particular sections of the society. They lay the blame squarely on the Internet and the information revolution. Well, how long do you think you could have continued with your vicious agenda of keeping us in the dark? How long do you think you could have kept our thinking shackled in the chains of your whims and wishes? How long do you think you could have coerced us to believe what you believe is right and see through your eyes and not ours?

I am not against our tradition. It is a vibrant one and we should preserve it. But we should try to realize that preservation does not and should not mean blind compliance. It is subject to change and we should adopt those things which are relevant in today’s world and reject those which have been proved incorrect. If we do not do this then we risk losing our own identity.

Since childhood I have adhered to the concept that “God is one”. Hence my respect for all the religions. Now this might seem contradictory to my earlier statement that I believe only in logic. But the existence or non – existence of God is a matter of ongoing debate and till now there has been no firm conclusion. I do not expect one anytime soon. It just seems convenient for many of us to believe that God exists and the universe, as we know it, needed a Creator!! Anyways, whatever might be the case, it does not change the way I live my life. I do not live life under fear of God. Neither do I believe in the concept of re-birth nor do I believe in the some ‘divine retribution’ if I do wrong things. My actions are guided by my own conscience. In fact as the first line of this article states – you do not need to be an atheist at all to spend an ethical life.

It is wondrously easy to teach a child how to differentiate between right and wrong with the help of this thesis – “Fear God”. But as one should be able to reason out, there is an independent and universal understanding of what is good and what is bad. It is this understanding that defines all religions and religious texts. The texts do not ‘define’ good and bad. They help catalogue it. And to bring them to common, illiterate folk, they have come up with various methods. But I think it would be unreasonable to pretend to be ignorant once we realize this. And as my professor Mr. Padmanabhan points out – “Even Hitler knew that what he was doing was not correct. Otherwise, why would he have ordered all the evidence regarding the atrocities at the concentration camps to be destroyed?”

Some of my friends may want to ask – if I do not believe in all this, why do I still celebrate all those festivals and follow those little rituals? Well my answer would be that I prefer to keep myself happy. These small things serve as nice additives to my cup of joy. That is how I see them.

P.S: The ‘rituals’ I follow exclude all and every possible type of superstitions.

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About the author : A 2nd year Electrical Engineering student at IIT Madras who, when not busy devouring the courses at hand loves to write, play keyboard, badminton and cricket and hobble around the internet hoping to stumble upon something that would prevent his brain cells from dying out..

Queer Parade : A Walk To Remember

By Amrita Paul

Reshma strut across the stage and announced with an emphatic glee, - “I think even Rahul Gandhi should join our parade from next year, because he is also gay, no?” The audience roared with laughter while one of the organisers quietly passed on the message that Reshma be brought down from the stage immediately. The voice of the speaker at the Sainik Sammelan, happening nearby was effectively drowned by the loud cheering of the crowd, “Garv se kaho hum Gay hain.”

Sara, a university student from Stockholm, was one of the first few people to arrive. Her clothes were freshly ironed and her cropped hair was neatly parted and clipped. Quite contrary to her appearance, she reminded me of Lisbeth Slander, the troubled yet fierce protagonist of Stieg Larsson’s ‘The Girl with a dragon tattoo’. As people donned scarves, masks and multi coloured wings, Sara stood in one corner, observing and clicking pictures from time to time.

Street children ran around snatching flags, masks and balloons, mostly from those who weren’t particularly assertive.

Delhi Queer Pride Parade was like an over populated sorority huddled together for a unanimous cause. Attendees rolled cigarettes, taking long drags whilst posing for the media, and answering questions about their purpose behind attending the parade. “I think it is very important for us to accept ourselves and each other to be able to stand together and fight against this discrimination.” said an amicable young fellow. Quirky enough, his badge was pinned on the flap of his zipper.

When the walk started, Donna, a feisty middle aged American woman moved around, energetically carrying a ‘happy and gay’ placard. All her conversations began with, “I partied till four in the morning but I had to come for this.” A journalist had perhaps asked her about a certain draconian section of the Indian Penal Code when she replied back in a fervid countenance, “Oh Never mind 377, I just feel sorry that more foreigners have turned up in support of this event when it should have been the other way round.”

As the parade moved on, policemen stood at the corner of each crossing with walkie-talkies, bemused, perhaps wondering what they were doing there in the first place. Photographers slammed into each other trying to take pictures, while members of the community danced away to glory. Ruchi stood in her white robe with a sacred disposition. Her prosthetic bald head and quaint kolhapuri chappals complimented her temperament perfectly. She glided alongside the parade banner, stopping occasionally only to ‘namaste’ as Cannons and Nikons clicked on, furiously. A media van zoomed ahead, capturing the event as it happened.

As the road curved towards Jantar Mantar, the cheering grew louder. Few had grown a little weary and had resigned to the side of the road. The rest marched on, shouting slogans. I met Sara again, who was at the verge of crying, - “I am a little emotional but people here are so brave.”

“As soon as we had set eyes on each other, we knew we were meant to be.” - said Arvind, a bespectacled, burly man. The turquoise parade banner fluttered behind him, on the stage. “And I want all of you to come for our wedding, whenever it happens. Even if my parents don’t come, you guys need to be there. It would mean a lot to us.”

“We don’t need laws to govern our body. We don’t need to be told whom to love, because love, even as a fleeting emotion unites souls and triumphs even in the silent tremors of darkness.” – One of the demonstrators summed up.

It is close to sunset and the venue has shifted near India Gate. Participants sat together on a rainbow coloured banner, sharing a modest lunch. Their smiles were a little more self assured than before, perhaps with the idea that even when you think you are alone, you are not really alone. 

| articles | blog  

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Amrita Paul
I write. I read. I eat. I sleep (a lot ). Oh yes, Chick flicks make me cry and I love dogs. Some say I am a feminist, I say - "Is it necessary to define every ounce of passion arising from an individual?" I think not. Anyway that is me :)

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Alive In Me

By Pallavi Joshi

My grandfather was a partially bald short man, with twinkling pair of eyes that lit up when he laughed; a laugh that came easily to him. He was very calm and content; I do not remember him complain about anything, even once. Always went around spreading joy and love. He had this gift of making people feel warm and comfortable around him. All loved him; children, men, women, animals. He was a soul mate to his wife; a perfect husband. He was a friend to his children and a very loving grandfather to the grand kids.

He was always trying his best to make other’s life simple and comfortable. Still it was never enough for him. As a child I remember him doing anything and everything to make his grandchildren happy. I used to love riding on his bicycle and even though using bicycle meant longer hours and fatigue he used to take me for a ride just to see me smiling. This was one of the many things he did to make me happy.

People say their mother or grandmother is a brilliant cook and that’s true even for me but I’ve one more name to add to my list - my grandfather. He was a brilliant cook and a complete foodie. No one I know can prepare daal the way he did; several have tried but failed. He used to say there’s no secret recipe and always gave tips but we still haven’t gotten it right.

My favorite from the long list of his culinary talent is curd rice. It’s a simple dish not even that sophisticated but I would give up food by the world’s best chef for it. For me curd rice and train travel goes hand in hand; whenever we used to start our journey back home he used to give us curd rice and pickle prepared by my grandma. It’s fair that I mention here that my grandma was a brilliant cook herself and paired up with her husband created food land for us.

Few years back we lost him, it was sudden death. His death was hard on all of us, especially on my grandmother. She lost her will to live and within a year we lost her. In his death we all lost something very precious. It’s been 6 years but I still feel it’s a nightmare, and any moment now I’m going to wake up and find him whistling while going about doing his work. 

Source

There are times I dial his number and wait for someone to pick it up on the other end. While walking on road or sitting in a café, in every old man I see I try to find my grandpa. I always have this hope that someday I might see him standing across the road or buying vegetable from a shop. I see a man walking with his grandchild I see my grandpa, I see a bald spectacled man I see him. 

Everyone tells me to move on, to let him go. But, how does one let their loved ones go? Won’t it be like accepting that I’m ok with him not being around? Because I’m not! I’m not ok with no one picking up the phone on the other end!! I’m not ok with not having my grandparents around on big days of my life!!! NO! I’m NOT!!

Few days back I was in a market; somewhere I heard someone whistling; it was the way my grandfather used to. I got curious and walked down to see who that was. I saw a middle aged man nothing like grandpa. But, a sound from past and all the memories came back to me, the warmth and security I felt around him, everything. The most prominent memory I have of my grandpa is his whistling; he always used to whistle while gardening or cooking. He could whistle any songs and the sound was always so melodious, it made my heart warm. While I was walking towards the sound in market I was half expecting to see grandpa standing.

Another thing that was patent of grandpa was his checked pattern lungi; which he used to wear at home. When going out I always feared that he would go out wearing the same and ended up requesting him to change. Though he never stepped out that way but always teased me saying he would. Last month on train on my adjacent berth there was an old man; very stern looking. I didn’t really pay attention to him. At night he took out a piece of checked cloth; it was a lungi just like the one my grandpa wore. In the very moment I started seeing my grandpa in that old man. I know it was all in my head but couldn’t help it. In that moment I was reminded of how much I miss him; how I wont mind him wearing his lungi anywhere and everywhere if that means him coming back.

There is so much I wanted to hear him say, so much to tell. There are days when I wish I could see him for one last time but then wonder will it be enough; will one moment be enough to tell him how much I miss him.

Everyday something happens that reminds me of him; for others they are small things but for me they are majorly important incidences which keeps me connected to him. I feel him around me every moment of day; I feel him besides me holding my hands when I’m afraid to take next step. I feel his hug when I feel alone and cold, he’s always besides me sharing my fears. I know when he disapproves of my behavior and when he’s proud of me. Some might think this is crazy talk or that I need help, but then I don’t expect them to understand. I see and feel him around me because somewhere he’s still not gone. With every breathe I take, every memory of him relived over the time, he lives. He lives in everyone who remembers him and loves him.

One day, may be I’ll be ready to let him go. I’ll come to terms with his death. But he’ll always be alive in me.

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About the author : I am Pallavi Joshi from Indore, at present living in Mumbai. I am an independent, free spirited, nature loving girl. My hobbies are reading, singing and listening to music. Books and me are inseparable. I feel without books I am one single person but when I read I get to live lives of several other characters. I am very passionate about my writing. I like writing short stories, articles etc. I have written several things; at present I am also working on a novel. My writing is really special for me as it reflect the person I am. My inspiration are the people and events around me.

Smile

By Pankti Dalal

They say they love my smile, but what they fail to see is the endless nights of crying that have gone in, to perfect that smile. They say I am a happy person and that I make them feel loved, but yet it’s ironic of how they easily assume I have no problems.

Photo credit - Anoop Nagendra

The love of my life is man who does magic with his words. His ability to write could easily make any girl fall madly in love with him, just the way I did. They say he is destined for greatness and he has a promising future. I smile and agree with everything, and believe strongly myself. But everything comes with a price. In order for my confidence in him to “become something famous”, I need to let him go.

It hurts that going abroad and studying for four years in order to pass that first stepping stone to his successful life he has to leave me behind. And I’m sure going abroad is definitely a better future, than loving me. It makes me wish I never loved him.

His eyes seem so misleading so madly in love with me, my every action has an effect on him, I make a difference to his life, he loves me, and he does; Just not enough. No one would ever leave everything behind and spend every passing day with me.

Well, if anyone who reads this will think I am a hopeless romantic, which I am. And perhaps I am over reacting but nothing changes the fact that it kills me every day to smile.

Every time I see that sparkle in his eyes when he sits to fill his applications, the same eyes that light up every time I tell him I love him. His arms that I spent the last two years in with comfort and warmth now hold innumerable papers practically screaming I am headed for a better life. I just stand there and smile still madly in love with him, nothing has changed since the day I met him except the fact that the foundation of our love now depends on Skype.

I stand there and smile tell him I love him and he tells me he loves my smile, but what he fails to see is the endless nights of crying that have gone in, to perfect that smile. He says I am a happy person and that I make him feel loved, but yet it’s ironic of how he easily assumes I have no problems.

Love @ 7

By Tanya Sehgal

"How much for the potatoes Bhaiya?" a feminine voice asked.

He looked back and saw a stunningly beautiful girl buying groceries. Mayank was an assistant manager at a leading bank. He usually reached home by 8, but since it was Saturday he was home early. And much to his dislike he had to buy some vegetables for his mother, but it soon turned out to be a blissful memory.

"20 Rs for a kg."
"Weigh 2 kgs please" came the reply.
She took the bags and went her way across the street to the left.

Mayank was brought back to reality when the vegetable seller asked "How many kgs should I pack?" Leaving him behind, Mayank hesitatingly ran following the girl, but she was no where to be found. He felt disturbed and couldn't sleep the whole night. His mind muttered the same words again and again, remembering the beautiful eyes, the accentuated lips, lovely fair skin of the angel in disguise.

"Shit !! Where am I gonna find her now?"

The next day went in a jiffy, but he did not forget the sweet voice even for the fraction of a second. At 6:45 he dressed perfectly unlike his usual track suit and went to the same spot where he had seen her the previous evening. He waited till 8:30 and the seller was ridiculed like hell. 

"What do you want Sir?"
"I will tell you in a while."
"How long will it take?"
"I will tell you in a while..."

He waited for half an hour more and at last said, "pack me a kilo please", to which the seller replied "Here is the packet. Please leave now, I don't need the money."

Monday went with usual office chores. In the evening, he asked permission to leave early, to which the manager agreed. Back at home, he got ready again in hope that he might see her again. He reached the market exactly at 7 and  voila ! There she was, looking pretty as ever.

She stood near the fruit seller, bargaining in her mesmerizing voice, laden with sedatives (or that's what seemed to him). He kept staring at her. When she began walking his way, he realized his mistake. After all, which decent girl would feel comfortable, at being gazed upon, so contently by someone?

She made a face and left. A week passed and the same routine followed. By now the girl had also started liking Mayank. The way he dressed up was suave and  sophisticated. Mayank was also a bit calmed now. He knew, he must not stalk her publicly, making her feel uncomfortable.

Both of them used to stare at each other, from time to time. When he stared, she looked in the opposite direction, biting her beautiful red lips. When she looked back, Mayank looked down. But they both knew they wanted each others attention.

A month passed and still nothing happened. Both of them were shy like hell. Both sober, polite and had awesome personalities, yet each feared the rejection (everybody in love get chills down the spine when it's time to express there feelings. Right?)

Photo credit - Vasudhaa

At last after 6 months Mayank gathered the courage to follow her to the end of the street. She knew she was being followed, but she wanted him to make the first move.

"Excuse Me"
"Yes" she stopped.

"Can I please know your name?"
"Ananya."

"I want to tell you something, girl."
"What is it?"

"I come to that shop everyday at 7 just to get a glimpse of you. I am Mayank and I am not a loafer by any means. I think I have fallen for you. I love everything you do. I know you live at Rose Apartments, 6th floor and I would really like to know you better."

"I know you come there just for me. I noticed you, standing there, looking at me like that, a long time back. I would like to confess - sometimes I don't come here to buy any veggies. I come just to get a glance" she said shyly.

"How can you be so sure that you love me? You hardly know anything about me? Maybe after knowing me you would not like me anymore?" Ananya asked.

"Even after knowing everything I am sure I would love you even more. There is something about you, that keeps pulling me towards you. I am sure its not only your beauty, but the inner soul. We are destined to be together." Mayank replied.

"What if I told you that I am a widow" she said.
Mayank was speechless, "What?"

"Yes, I know I should not have acted, the way I did. But my husband died after a week of our marriage and my in-laws say that I bring bad-luck. I am not very well educated girl and my religion would not allow me to date another man. I have to live with my destiny no matter what!"

"Can't you fight against the customs for our love...? Oh! I am sorry, you don't even love me, right?"

"I don't know, but those 15 minutes around you make me feel free from all the chains, society had imposed on my heart. I am not allowed to love, I am sorry."

And she began walking her way, tears flowing down here cheeks.

"Wait", Mayank screamed.

"Please leave me alone. If anyone saw you with me, it will be bad for both of us", she sighed.

"Love is not about letting your lover go. Ananya, just tell me that you love me or not?"

"I don't know, Mayank but you deserve someone better than me. Some one who can unconditionally love you". With these words she left. It was the last that they saw each other.

Next morning Mayank went to her apartment, but the guard told him that Ananya left at 4 in the morning.

It's been 8 years since the last conversation they had. Mayank has a 6 year old son and a lovely wife. But he will never forget those 6 months of constant staring at 7. Maybe his love will be like this forever, constant, secretive, hidden somewhere deep in the heart, not letting any one know how much he miss her even today, 8 deadly years....

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About the writer : A soul surfer, a dreamer, innately passionate are words that describe Tanya to some extent. Love & romance are her forte, which is very well reflected in her writing style.

Time To Grow - Up ? NO !

By Meera

I was 17 when I left home for college.

Never having stayed away from my family, this was going to be a major change in my lifestyle. But I had studied for 2 years to get into a good college and when I got admission into a decent college in Hyderabad, I didn't think twice before accepting it.

My mother came with me to drop me to this alien world called a college campus and after living in a house with four people, I was asked to live in a room, all by myself.

The first time I ate in the mess, some girl sitting on my table saw the food and started crying and I thought to myself maybe I'm not alone here; others are just as miserable as me!

"Home, home again. I like to be here when I can; when I come home cold and tired, it's good to warm my bones beside the fire."

There were times when the separation from home seemed insufferable and the lack of home cooked food made me cry but I dealt with it because I was told it was all a part of a little something called 'growing-up'.

And then there were times when I felt at home both at home and in the campus, those were probably the moments of warmth and bliss hermits preach of.

But now, as college is about to end and I've to go for a job even farther away from home, I wonder is it all worth it ? For how long can I stay away from home ? Do I even want to stay away from home ?

And NO, I refuse to accept it all as a part of growing up. I always agreed with Dominique Francon more than Howard Roark and I understand that there are certain ways in which the world functions.


Yes, I have accepted the rules of the world but I will not believe that there can ever be a time when my home will be a place without my mother; those buildings will just be temporary places to rest in.

 
The point of this whole article ?  

Growing up does not mean you have to lose the relationships you cherished for the initial 17 years of your life , it means preserving them in your heart like an old wine and enjoying it as the love become as sweet as wine!

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About me - All I want in life is, a beach house with a library. If I'm able to achieve that, I'd be at peace with the world and with myself.

The Million Dollar Smile

By Saloni Mishra

*Tring Tring*

The phone rings at 2AM in the morning.

Getting up from deep sleep, she jumps out of her bed and instead of getting irritated for being disturbed at this time in the night, runs into the corridor, straight towards the window, and answers the call.

It's him; just his name on the screen of her cell phone, lights up her world

It is said, when you are in love, you don’t care about anything around you. But an exception to this would be the balance left in your mobile phone!

After talking for about an hour or so, they finally hang up, not because they wanted to - neither of them have the balance to continue the call.

She comes back to her room; everything seems to be beautiful, just perfect. She looks around the room and smiles for no reason.

Photo credit - Aman Wilson

All she knows for now is that she is madly in love and she wants to remain that way forever. She goes to bed, holds the pillow to her chest and sleeps with the smile still etched on her face. Next morning when she wakes up, the first thing that crosses her mind is his face, his smile - which makes the whole world around her, stand still - his hair, his voice, which drives her crazy, and makes her love him all the more.

She gets up and checks her inbox for messages, if any. With all love, warmth and care, she wishes him a good morning and also lets him know that if he bunked classes again, she would be angry.

After falling for him, she cares for him, knowing that if left to him, he would not take care of himself. Throughout the day, she thinks of him, and as the time passes, her urge to listen to his voice increases. After the classes for the day finish and she walks back to her hostel along with her friends; talking and laughing - but a part of her mind is still preoccupied with thoughts of him. Suddenly it stats raining and then she notices something - something which makes her miss him even more.

She sees a couple crossing the road, with the boy holding the umbrella and the girl leaning on his shoulder. For her, nothing could be more innocently romantic than this. At that moment, all that she wants is to be with him, and enjoy the first shower of the season with him, just like this couple. Her friends’ chatter brings her back to reality and she knows that if not now, her moments will come later. Her coy smile comes back at that thought. 

At the hostel, she does all the activities attributed to a hostel dweller after which she goes online on Facebook. Every now and then she opens his chat window, eagerly waiting for that little green light near his smiling face to glow. She stares at his profile picture, goes through his timeline again and again. Easily she gets jealous of the other girls on his friend list. She is convulsed by fits of anger when her internet slows down and tells her that her Webpage is not available. She relentlessly refreshes the page until she gets back on to the "Newsfeed” - It is important to mention the role of Facebook in maintaining long distance relationships. Finally, he messages her and ends her self-afflicted torment. They chat about his day and him flirting with other girls in his college(Though the flirting part is just a way for him to tease her).They chat about various things for hours together, without getting bored.

They love each other : truly, madly, deeply.

But today, she is unable to sleep as she is upset - They had a small fight.

The thought that he might be hurt does not let her sleep - the insecurity of losing him envelopes her.

Every now and then, she checks her mobile for a new message or a missed call. But finding none, she feels low. When it becomes impossible for her to resist, she picks up her mobile, goes out and dials the number.

*Tring Tring Tring Tring* - And then a minute later, a voice says "The customer you are trying to speak to, is busy at the moment".

The desperation and agony rises. She sits back on the staircase, wondering how only yesterday she was so happy she lets a drop of tear trickle down her cheeks.

She thinks about how much her mood depended on the happiness of one person and how much she stood to lose without him.

Upset, she goes to bed, reminiscing about all the good times she spent with him and tries to sleep...Suddenly her mobile starts vibrating.

The million dollar smile returns to her face.

The same girl, who was upset a few minutes back, is now the happiest person on the planet.

They talked as if nothing had ever happened - For love is meant to be patient, and love is to forgive the wrongs.

And then, they keep talking till the fated balance gets over. Everything is just like it was before - She blushes and smiles with her million dollar smile.

A Memorable Phone Call

By Nikhil Jain

Life is such a capricious business really. All it takes is a few moments to completely transform your entire way of thinking, your mind set, your outlook and your life. Change is an inevitable part of life. Change is the only constant factor and the earlier you accept it, the easier it will prove to be. One thing is for sure: You must remain resolute about your dreams because dreams are the only things that give you satisfaction. Once broken, they can leave the person shattered for a long time.

But what is the most important requirement for fulfilling your dream? No, it’s not money. Time is crucial but the Condicio sine qua non is a bunch of people with whom you feel connected. These are special people whom you call friends. Nokia helps you connect with such people too.

Wait now! From where did that came from? My semi-sleep mode philosophy remained incomplete as my thinking boat took a stop to find my cell phone ringing. It was my darling sister calling. I looked out of my window and realized that it was still light outside with girls still roaming around. Now the best thing about my sister was that she would call whenever I was with a girl or when I was collecting my thoughts. Another speciality of hers was that whenever I was in a fix, she would always be there with a diplomatic way out instead of a solution. So I picked up the phone to greet her:

Hi!
Hi gadhe! You sound as if you’re asleep.

hmm... once again you broke my train of thoughts.
Oh...Who’s the girl you were thinking about this time? Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! (Sisters always get excited when they ask this question)
 

There’s no one special.
Okay, I get it; you were thinking something else and you obviously won’t tell me. So, how’s that friend of yours of whom you have been talking about for a long time? Any progress?

No not much. Listen, why did you called at such an odd time?
Oh yes! I almost forgot. Listen, what are your plans for the night?

I don’t know. I just woke up. You are asking as though you are arranging a date for me.
I mean you don’t have your CAT coaching classes or any late night party or any prior commitments?

No… But why are you asking?
So it goes like this. I have this friend of mine who’s just had a breakup and she’s depressed and she needs someone to talk to so I have given her your number. So she might call you tonight.

Ha-ha…You are joking, aren’t you?
Why are you laughing? This is serious.

What shall I say to her? And why on earth would you give her my number?
Please help her out. She’s really sweet and nice but she’s not listening to me. So I thought you might be of help. You are smart too. And who knows you might find your true love tonight. He he… (She laughs that typical girlish laughter). Instead of thanking me, you are cursing me. And guess what? When she smiles she has those lovely dimples on her face. What else do you need? I help you at all times and you can’t listen to a nice girl? You’re going to help her or I’ll share all your childhood pictures on Facebook.
The point is that, you got over your break up really fast and I want you to give her some tips too. Remember: Knowledge increases by sharing. That’s all I want you to do.

Alright, I’ll do it. Now, will you please stop this melodrama of yours? But don’t blame me if she gets further depressed.
I knew you’ll do it! Advice time: Take that friend of yours out sometime. Give her a rose and loads of chocolates. To win a girl’s heart, go by her stomach. I know you like her and from her responses I believe that she likes you too. It’s time to take it one step further.

Oh please stop! I’ll bring you a box of chocolates next time I come home.
He he…okay then, I’ll call you later. I haven’t told her your name but she will call you Bond.

Is this a secret mission or something? Shall I call her 007? At least, tell me her name and some tips on how I should approach her.
Oh...just be cool and don’t be tough with her. She has asked me not to say much about her so you ask her when she calls you. Okay? Bye…Take care!

Wait… listen… that’s not … (I said desperately as she cut the phone.)Fair.

Photo credit - Chinmay Maheshwari

Sisters! Whenever they get bored and need something, they will call you, make you see a beautiful dream and then put you into a fairy tale. I looked out of the window to see that girls were still roaming. I love this view from my room. I realised my roommate and everyone else would have left for their NIIT classes. I went to the lobby only to find out that all the rooms in which I spent my evenings were bolted.

I distinctly remembered something special about the day but I couldn’t track it down so I returned to my room and switched on the laptop. A laptop has assumed the place of the best friend of every student. They spend their maximum time with it, share almost all of their secrets with it and a thorough search of a laptop might reveal the darkest secrets of any person. It has a vivid collection of his unexpressed feelings, his best moments, his choices, his likes and his dislikes, and his fantasies. I checked my facebook account to find that two people had liked my status update. I had no new emails and nothing to check out. No girl was available to flirt and no old friend was online to revive golden memories.

With nothing to do, I wanted to relax a little bit. I sat back on my bed, put my latest favourite song on repeat mode and started to think about the beautiful time I had spent at Cherrapunji and Shillong with my best friends. I thought of writing something but gave up that idea as I was unable to focus. To beat the boredom, I started searching my room to find something to do; a book on programming, loads of photocopies of the topper’s notes, read novels, a box of cigarettes with one cigarette in it (that’s new!).

Finally my search came to an end as I started reading my roommate’s diary but it added to my annoyance as he hadn’t written anything new. This is going to be a long and deadening evening. I closed my eyes and once again tried to think. Suddenly, my cell phone rang; an unknown call from a number starting with the number eight. Damn these service providers and there promotional offers! I must now register to DND service as soon as possible. I picked up the phone, considering the possibility that it might be from some competitions that I had applied for. I received the call but said nothing as my mind was set to hear some cheap Bollywood song to be applied as my caller tune. To my astonishment there was silence on the other side. Then the conversation went as below:

Hello.
Hi is this Bond?

Yes. May I know who this is?

Hey! I am your sister’s friend. She might have mentioned to you about me. I hope I am not disturbing you?

Oh yes! I do remember. Hi … how are you?

I was dumbstruck with what had just happened. My sister had finally done something good for me But this girl sounded very depressed and heart broken. Her voice was dulcet and I tried to imagine her face. She would probably look as pretty as Deepika Padukone or Gul Panag. As my mind raced to think of other actresses who she could resemble, I suddenly realised that I had been insensitive and that she hadn’t replied to the question.

What’s the matter? You sound very sad. Is everything all right?

No, everything is not at all right. I am going through a very tough phase of my life. I need someone whom I can talk to.

Please don’t take me in the wrong sense but people generally talk to those whom they feel close to in these circumstances. Out of genuine curiosity, Why me?

Yes, you are right. But I think that talking to someone close to you isn’t always the correct option. Sometimes talking to an unknown person might lead to a better and unbiased conclusion. You might need to hide something when you talk to a close friends it might hurt their feelings. But with a stranger, you need not wear a mask. You can talk like a kid, act like a kid and cry like a kid. You can speak your heart out. I have heard of how you help your sister. She’s the one who suggested that I talk to you. I found you interesting and apt from the way she described you. Also, she said that you are a very patient listener and you might have a solution to my problem.

So you don’t fit with the popular crowd. Now, I take that as a very good omen. Okay then…. Let’s start. Tell me what’s eating you out?

You might know the basic story but let me start from the beginning. It goes like this : 2 years ago, a guy proposed to me and he was smart and handsome and I kind of liked him too. So we have been together for the past two years until a week ago when we broke off. We were a happy couple, but suddenly I felt as though I was standing in the middle of an island, with nowhere to go but the sea to drown in.

I know it’s tough but could you please explain the break up part a little bit more.

I realised that he didn’t love me. I was just a materialistic requirement for him. So I broke it off

So, what’s the trouble then?

I made up my mind not to sulk about not having a boyfriend. I wanted to develop inner poise, authority and a sense of self as a woman of substance who was complete without boyfriend. But now, my desire for finding true love is increasing day by day. What if I have found him but do not realise it? I just want to know if my true love has come into my life or not.

Is that it? 

Yes, that’s all.

Girls. They don’t worry about internships, jobs, money, gadgets or gifts. All they worry about is true love. But even if a man does propose, what he feels doesn’t seem to matter; it seems to be about the way he says it.

You know what? While it’s good to have crushes on men, one should form relationships based on mature assessment of the character. And now you want to do just that. That’s really nice. Now tell me, if there is an elephant and a bunch of bananas, but the elephant isn’t eating them. Why?

What the hell are you talking about?

It’s a simple pj. But answer me.

I don’t know… Maybe he’s not hungry.

Actually, the bananas are artificial.

Do you really think that’s funny?

Ok. Now once again, there is an elephant and there are bananas. But the elephant is still not eating them. Why?

Let me guess; this time the elephant is artificial.

Good. Now, neither the elephant nor the bananas are artificial yet the elephant is not eating them. Why?

I don’t know.

Because bananas are on TV!

That was terrible.

He he...Now the elephant and bananas both are real, both are in TV still the elephant isn’t eating them. Why?

Let me think. Um… because they are on different channels?

Correct! So you see, finding true love also has the same trouble. Sometimes you might think that you have found it by merely looking at it, but when you get close to it - when you know its nature, then you realise that it is fake. But to understand the difference, you have to experience it, bear the pain once and only then you would be able to distinguish between real and fake. Sometimes, your true love is very far from your reach, though physically you may be inches apart. Mentally your thinking and your mind-set could be completely different. You might know this person and ignore him because he’s just an acquaintance. That is the second case: when you can see the person but you don’t like him. There is also a third case in which others know that the two are made for each other and it takes time for them to realise it. Another possibility is that you might have not met each other and will do so in the future. 

Hmmm…that was quite philosophical.

It’s one of my several originals.

Now I am wondering if my last boyfriend was my true love

Let’s do an experiment. Do you have a matchbox in your room? 

Now, don’t you start a Jab We Met styled therapy. I am fed up of such absurd suggestions.

Don’t worry; I am going to do something better. Now, do you have a matchbox in your room?

Yes, I do.

What is a matchbox doing in your room? Do you smoke? Or have you started smoking as an anti-depressant?

No... We have frequent power cuts and that’s why I have it. My favourite anti-depressant is chocolate ice-cream by the way. What's yours?

A cigarette. But black currant ice-cream will also work fine.

Hmmm… So what shall I do now with the matchsticks?

Okay then; Find out any old love letter you received, turn off the lights and try to read the letter in the shadowy light. Let’s see what finishes first. You ready?

Okay. Let’s try…

I sat back, drank some water and waited for her reply. I found what was happening amazing. Oh my dear sister! You are going to have to buy a big chocolate box this time, I thought. Then, I heard some weird noises on the phone.

It’s done.

Let me guess; the match stick got finished and you didn’t burn your hand.

Um...You’re right but how did you know that?

Well, it was easy. I knew your feelings for him were contrived. There’s no point crying for such a person though you might feel guilty for what you have done. In the long run, that person will realise this too and on that day, he will be grateful to you. The point is that, these things are memorable but they are not unforgettable. At a point, you will get over it. Also, you can hear from the phone what's going on the other side and there was no girl burning.

Wow! That’s quite a nice way to realise your feelings. I have already started feeling better and I never thought all of this would be so fast. But how do I realise if I have met the person I love already?

That’s a tough one but still, let’s try. You have a candle in your room?

Yes, I do.

Great. Turn off the lights. Light the candle. Listen to the Titanic track “My Heart Will Go On” and keep your mind in peace. Only listen to your heart and try to see the person’s face you see in the glowing candle.

It’s a nice idea. But I have a better one. I have read some of your poems. Read any romantic one of yours because listening to something new would be better.

I was taken aback with the response as I wondered what else my sister has told her about me. That wasn’t fair. Here I am, clueless about her and she already knows my secrets. No chocolate boxes for sure. Still I maintained my composure.

Okay, let me pickup my diary but don’t you think listening a song would be better?

No. Please read!

Here it goes. My latest one and actually you will be the first person to hear this. Try to get into the situation and see the face of the guy.

He drove just watching.

Then they came to a green road between the trees.

They turned cautiously round,

And were advancing between the oaks of the forest,

Down a green lane.

The green lane widened into a little circle of grass,

Where there was a

Small trickle of water at the bottom of a sloping bank.

The car stopped.

'We will stay here,' he said,

And put out the lights.

He extinguished the lamps,

And it was pure night, with shadows of trees

Like realities of other, nightly beings.

He threw a rug on to

The ground and they sat in stillness and mindless silence.

There were faint sounds,

But no disturbance, no possible disturbance,

The world was under a strange ban,

A new mystery had supervened.

‘A magnificent gift you gave me’ she said, as they sat there silently.

Silence followed for a while after I dared to speak

Are you there?

Oh yes, I was totally lost in the poem. It was really nice and beautiful. Now, I feel relieved as there was no face I could see. But I desperately want to see someone in it.

A wise man once said “If you want to do it fast then do it slow”. These things cannot be controlled by us. It’s already written; the best we can do is to live every moment. And remember that it’s never too late to express yourself.

I guess you are right…

I don’t know much about you but I am dedicating this poem of mine to you. It will be with you forever. It’s yours.

Aw, that’s so sweet. Thank you very much, my dear. I actually don’t have words to thank you but thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I am obliged to give you a gift in return. Remember that song you were listening when I called you- “Abbhi na jao chhod kar”? I dedicate it to you. That is one of my favourite songs. I will always remember you when I will listen to it.

The pleasure is mine. And I might know the reason that you haven’t seen any face in the candle.

And what is the reason?

We haven’t yet met.

Another pause. It was she who broke the silence this time.

I knew this would be the toughest part. Actually, I don’t want to talk to you ever again or meet up with you. I know this is selfish of me but I really need to get over this bad phase in my life. I am grateful to you for what you have done for me and I will be grateful for my whole lifetime. But the truth is that I can’t face you. Consider this as a ‘doctor- patient’ relationship. I hope you understand. I will break this sim card after this call so that no further contact is possible between us.

But what if we are destined to meet?

Then we’ll meet as complete strangers and fall in love at first sight.

From what I have gathered of you in this half hour, I hope to get at least one phone call from this very number with good news; either for you or for both of us.

Let’s see. Good Bye till then. Take care. Thanks a lot once again for making this evening unforgettable.

Same here. Bye.

As I cut the phone, I couldn’t identify the emotion I was feeling. Should I be angry at her? Should I call myself foolish for not even asking her name or forcing her to talk more? As I listened to my heart’s decision, my mouth twisted itself into a smile and I went back listening to the song.

“Why the hell are you smiling like that when you’re sitting alone?” my roommate asked when he came back. I replied “Destiny. Consider the option that the elephant and the bananas are in the same TV channel. Both are real but the elephant is not eating the bananas because there’s a TV running inside the TV”.

“Have you gone crazy?” he asked furiously.