Because silver linings are a myth..

There are times when you feel like it’s going to explode. What why where how… You can never explain even to yourself. It’s like there is a volcano in your own head. Something that is always bubbling, but staying down because you are holding your breath. You are at the pinnacle of an emotional upheaval and suddenly it all bursts..
I am a harbinger of extremes, even those who love me often call me a drama queen. But they forget that my extreme is the reason I am the way I am. My beliefs are black and white but my perceptions are grey. My judgements maybe black and white but my intuition is made of greys. More often than not I am articulate, but when it comes to speaking my heart out – all the articulate sensibilities fail me.
I am tired and exhausted of the efforts one puts in fitting in. I want to just not have to fit into a mould of what someone wants to believe I am. Most of our lives we go without really knowing what we want.. What we would do… How we behave.. What is it that we believe.. We are colored by opinions and by expectations. Because we believe that people are our silver linings… But silver linings are just a myth. Only you can be the anchor of your soul, your grief, your joy and your fear. So in the good bad and the ugly.. Anchor yourself to the shore of your belief and have faith when you say to yourself – this too shall pass.

Thank You Mom- For courage

Dear Mom,

Today I stood and talked to a few friends about why it is ok to stay quiet when another person is fighting. I spoke of how its unfair and all I heard was it is situational. And I remembered to Thank you for courage. I remembered to thank you because I never did for giving me the fearlessness I carry. I stood there and in my head thought how easy it is to discuss another’s pain.

I remembered how once as we travelled as kids in a bus, you stood and fought with some men who were harassing a woman travelling alone. I remember you had my little brother and me along. But what you cared about was the respect of another woman. I remember how you screamed at random men who harassed you or other women.

And I was always proud, proud of being your daughter. Proud of being with you and safe. I grew up without fear. I grew up to be one of those forward women who create an ‘issue’ about ‘small’ things. Those women that fight and scream and yell when they are harassed or harass another. I don’t often tell you mom, but I have had my moments of hell. When I have been asked for ‘my rate’ in a crowd or been called lewd names. And every time I turn around and glare thinking of what you would have done.

I wish there were more mothers like you Mom. I hear the fear in you now. I know you worry that I fight too much, or stretch it too far. I know you were not worried till I was closer to you mom. But I hear the fear in your voice now when I say I stood up for what’s right. Maybe when I have a daughter I will know your fears better. I just hope I can set the examples you set, so that my daughter will not stand quietly aside while others fought. I wish there were more mothers like you mom, then maybe more would have stood up for the right and not been bystanders of injustice.

I am scared mom, of being a woman sometimes, always thinking twice about what is right to wear, how must a girl behave, or whether I will be groped or not. But I still stand up and will always. Because my mom taught me too.

I wish there were more mothers like you. Then may be just may be two boys would have been alive.




I am seeking inspiration,

holed somewhere deep inside,

I wish I knew where it hides.

Just keeping faith intact,

can be so much of a task,

of your dreams and desires you were never asked.

Slowly, the rhythm of my patience

is waning away.

I am hoping that the short breath is just a small stress ball,

I am hoping that soon and surely this will come to a stand still.

And hope is the start of will.

lonely not alone

I keep wondering if people really know what it means to be lonely in a crowd, but most of us are at most points. There is this nagging feeling when people get married, that you are alone.
I was always the girl that dreamt of commitment and marriage! The girl who believed in the institution of marriage. But I think I have moved on from there too. Sometimes there is a setback that ruffles the entire being of your existence.
I think my existence has been ruffled.


Its when you are at the worst of your expectations of self that you know that you are still moving backwards,or at least trying to. Its difficult to not do that more often than not. But you need to, stop moving backwards. Its like everything passes you. Would you do it the same way over again in a breath.
That’s a difficult call, there are bits and pieces you would want to re work always. Relive some, erase some completely from every shard of memory. And this is where you realise it doesn’t matter at all. Not even a bit! And it should not be the trend of life to move backwards.
Its the ahead that matter, each done day should be trashed. Like the gmail trash button. Because that’s when you stop pondering dissecting and altering in your mind.
So today I make up my mind, cliched but true, live each day like its the end of your life and start one like its the first ever!