Secret Solace

It was raining heavily. I could see the bird cage across the courtyard, perched upon some flower pots. The door of the cage was open and was banging against the wall of the cage. The cage was empty. I was 6 years old. I remember my Nani talking affectionately to me, feeding me, playing with me. On  evenings when there was no electricity, I remember her face lit up in the light cast by the oil lantern. My Nani loved lighting up oil lanterns. She would give the bed to me and my brother and lay herself on the floor watching us. She would tell us stories and sometimes sing to us. She loved reciting Ramayana to me especially and talk a lot about Lord Rama. She taught me how to light a diya and pray. She took me to Ram mandir with my mother and brother. We used to love running around the big temple. She used to love applying kajal to my eyes. She would make the kajal herself on warm sunny winter afternoons and she would tell me how she was making it. Once it was prepared she would put a ...

It was a day of warm showers and barefoot walks. I had been craving a day like this. A walk in the cold breezy weather in the company of chirping birds had relaxed me already. I spent the afternoon in good company, dipping my feet into small pools of water. The night had fallen slowly. I lay on the grass staring at the starry night. And I gave some thought to myself. To the girl I am. The one whose soul dances in poetry, whose heart beats in rhythm with music, who finds beauty in flowers and paintings, who cries over songs and books, who needs no other reason than love to smile and laugh, who is enchanted by starry nights, who never settles for shallow waters, whose spirit believes only in flying, who wants to look at the future and see light, who is untouched by noise and distractions, who can see others' aching truths and silent dreams without judgement, whose eyes see storms and stardust and whose soul chooses to embrace both. I had been away from this girl. Away from myself. Af...

I was in 8th standard in school. I used to like my biology teacher. She used to teach with so much clarity and enthusiasm. One day she told us all to read the book "The Diary of Anne Frank". I thought if Gurjit mam is telling then I have to read it. In the next library period I borrowed the book from the library and spent the next 2 weeks reading it thoroughly. The book took me on an emotional journey of hope and courage during difficult times, the impact of war, adolescence and human resilience. I wept. The ending was cruel. I went to school the next day. I stood there watching everyone. Everyone looked happy. How can they be so happy? Because they didn't read the book. I chose to pick up the book and read it. I didn't speak about the book or that I wept to anyone. Not my friends, not my parents, not my brother. No one. That's how I behave. A silent sufferer. I endure my difficult times privately. I am not able to speak about what truly hurts me. Why am I like th...

I am walking on a bridge The river is gushing beneath The air is cold on my skin The bridge is swaying in the strong wind My hair bun is no longer able to hold all of my hair strands The fragility of the moment is making me shiver I pull on my coat tighter Tears well up in my eyes For my fragile feelings are placed inside Straining to come out The emotional turmoil strains me It makes me think Should I even express? Will my fragility be understood? Or are they safely sheltered in my heart's cocoon?

My habit of exploring songs led me to Lagan Laagi Re, and it has become my current favorite music video. I have always liked Amit Trivedi's songs, and this one captivated me too. It isn't a newly released one, though. One of my friends was suggesting disco songs with catchy tunes—the kind filled with DJs, bars, wine and crazy dancing. I suggested Lagan Laagi Re to her. She agreed to listen to it after being sceptical for a while. Lagan laagi re speaks of a quiet devotion. It made my heart fly the very first time I saw and listened to it. Every expression and every note carries a depth that words alone cannot explain. The ending makes one realise true love doesn't go unrecognised.  I always prefer songs that nourish my heart to those that briefly entertain. The ones that offer depth and meaning are the songs I am drawn to. My friend later admitted that she liked my suggestion better. Something that filled her heart rather than distracting and leaving her mind in a frenzy.  ...

In my 10th pre boards I scored 99/100 in maths. My maths teacher praised my paper a lot infront of other students. I used to think "Is he actually talking about me?" I used to be a very quiet girl. Not the kind of girl people talk about. But when everybody started talking about me I was suddenly pulled out of the shadows and put into the limelight. And that made me uncomfortable. I was not used to that kind of attention. Sir praised the way I wrote the paper with so much clarity. It was neatly written, all problems solved with proper steps without a single scratch on the entire paper. He kept telling the other students. "She hasn't made a single scratch. That's the power of attention and practice." Sir came to me and respectfully asked me if he can keep my paper. He showed it all the students from different sections. He never gave my paper back. Then everyone started talking that I would definitely score a 100 in board exams. Now I have never been too much i...

In this world of cafe lattes, cappuccinos and espressos I am still a chai girl. I have my own little ritual of making tea everyday. I love the aroma as the tea slowly comes to a boil. Especially during the rainy season, there is something deeply comforting about making my own cup of tea. Why is the modern culture so much into coffee and coffeeshops? In my city the coffeeshops are bustling with people on almost every street. The coffee lifestyle here has been heavily influenced by the West.  I do go to coffeeshops and I really like the coffee, the music and the lively atmosphere. But at home I always prefer to have tea. Maybe it's because I'm not much of a culinary adventurer. I don't find myself exploring different varieties of even tea - Darjeeling, Assam or exotic blends. I like my tea just the way I have always known it.  I learnt and started making tea regularly during my study break for 10th board exams. I remember the warm, sunny afternoons when I would simmer my own ...

I opened my closet and was greeted by the lovely fragrance of lavender. The lavender fragrance bar hanging on the wall of my closet was responsible for the fragrance. I looked around my closet, at the short piles of my dresses sitting on the shelves, the long ones hanging on the hangers and few of them stored in the boxes. And then I took a minute to admire my elegant collection of dresses that I had slowly bought over the years. Since when did I become so fashionable? I wondered. Browsing through my wardrobe I found so many of my favorite pieces were lavender in colour. My suits, tops, my bindis and my earrings and my nail paint. Even my lip balm is lavender in colour!  I am so drawn to lavender. Lavender enhances my softness, balances my mood, puts a beautiful smile on my lips and peace in my heart. I feel pretty wrapped in lavender. I don't know if I look pretty in lavender. Maybe I don't care if I look pretty. But I know I feel pretty in lavender. And that's what matter...

The hill stood Proud, bathing in the sunshine Surrounded by the vast meadows Came along a cloud dancing in the sunshine and the wind The hill was having a good day It waved Hi to the cloud happily The cloud waved back happily It was in a good mood too "Where are you off to?" asked the hill "I am on my way to chase my dreams. I have been dreaming all along. And the time has come to live my dreams", said the cloud. "That's great to hear. Do tell me more about yourself", said the hill. And they chatted happily like old friends sharing their happiness and dreams. The hill was elated in the company of the boisterous, mischievous cloud and laughed at its funny stories. The cloud was touched by the hill's stillness, genuine listening and encouraging nature. The hill confessed that although it can never travel, it has always dreamed of seeing the world. "Don't worry. I'll come visit you and tell you all the stories of what I saw in the world...