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April 12, 2016
April 4, 2016
February 3, 2016
January 23, 2016
November 19, 2015
1. I got married and will celebrate my first anniversary next month
2. I shifted cities & it took me a while to settle down
3. I got a new job & again it took me time to adjust
4. I am trying hard to learn & understand the local language & fail
5. I have put on oodles of weight, none of my pretty dresses & blouses fit anymore. I tried to work out & failed
6. I started to cook, clean & do quite a few wife-like duties everyday
So, guess I have justified my prolonged absence.
I am in Bengaluru, all my friends are away, the friends I have made here are mostly wives or new-mommies so they have recipes & baby talks to share & seriously I need someone to party with.
My husband doesn't dance so, this city has some amazing pubs & lounges and I dance alone & feel stupid after a while.
I took up hobbies quilled a few pretty earrings, crocheted a pretty tie up beach sandals, I started to learn zumba and then the instructor ran off and I am out of ideas.
I mean seriously, do all married girls only talk about what they cooked, what they did with their husbands, when are they planning babies?
What happened to those, OMG such a cute boy talks?
What happened to did you see the final GoT episode?
What happened to lets go party this Wednesday ladies night?
Everyone might have a different perspective, but its my opinion, to not get the husband involved in everything.
yes, you love him, but dude, get some time out for yourself. Go for a ladies spa evening, a high tea, gossip, laugh over silly things
That is the only hing I miss of my bygone single life & a flat tummy also I do miss
This sounds like a rant post right?
Adios, pretty ladies
September 7, 2015
You came like a flowing breeze,
soothed my burning soul,
balmed my open wounds,
and now that I want you to stay,
you say you just came by the way.
I look up in your eyes,
It tells me a million stories.
stories of defeat, stories of shame,
stories of many shattered walls of fame.
you blink, trying to deceive me,
but the door once opened can be entered anyday.
I look deeper in your eyes,
beyond those surfacing stories.
I see a sun blinding my gaze,
The gleaming sun shows me illusions,
I see mirage in the middle of a haze.
I forget the reality,
and start living in the illusions.
my world turns into a vast desert,
and I look upon you
my oasis, for solace.
But after walking miles after miles,
chasing you, like chasing my own tail.
A lightening strikes, and I realize,
my house has been ravaged,
my soul has been stolen,
my trust has been broken,
the drawers of happiness have been emptied,
and my love has been raped.
I want you to tell me,
All's not lost, everything's gonna be alright.
So I look around for you,
But you seem nowhere.
Far away, I can see your shadow,
disappearing at the end of the road.
I run behind you, trying to stop you,
hold your arms tight.
But every single time,
I fall on my face,
feeling like a ridiculous dime.
I hear somebody laughing on me,
It was a joke I didnt want to understand.
Fallacy was served to me on a platter,
And I tasted deceit, while sipping some wine.
Spooning up against you, the feel of your lips on my earlobes, I felt my body shiver, goosebumps on my arms. You ran your hand over my arms, soothing the excitement that I felt. I was waiting for more when you slipped out of the bed, scattering my desires into dust. Oh how I wanted you!
I lay on bed, hoping that you would come back and start over again. But you didn't. I heard the shower running. A part of me wanted to join you and forget all about what lay ahead. But another part, the one that still had some respect, adamantly stayed still, wanting to be loved. You walked out, a towel wrapped around your waist, hair wet and water droplets on your body. I wanted to touch you, bury my head in your arms and take in the fragrance of your body. To feel alive, to reminisce how it felt the first time I hugged you. To be consumed in the fire of the passion I felt for you. You went about getting dressed, hardly noticing the emotions that were threatening to tear me apart.
Reluctantly, I began to dress up for the day. No, I did not feel like taking a shower. You raised your eyebrow to show disdain for my choice. But it didn't matter. I was getting used to your disapproval. I did not want to go back where I had just imagine you naked. I did not want to go down that memory again, the one that spiraled me back every time I took a step forward. Of the numerous rendezvous that we had in that enclosed space, of the water running down our bodies as they became one.
I picked up my bag, stuffing in the things that were lying around your place. I wondered if it occurred to you that you would never see them again. Then I thought, how does it matter!
"What time is your flight?" you asked me. How could you not know? I wanted to shout!
"10.30" I replied, gulping in the lump I felt in my throat.
You sat back in the cab with me, not realizing how my body ached every time the cab took a turn and you bumped into me or your hand brushed against my thighs.
"Good bye. Have a safe trip" you told me at the departure gate.
I had tears in my eyes but you looked away.
I walked in the gate, not wanting to look back. But I did look back. Through the glass doors, I saw you zoom away. Not wasting a second after I left, you had hurriedly got into the cab and gone. Away from my life. Leaving me with a broken heart.
I took off from the city that had showed me independence, from the city that had brought you and me together. Into another one, where I was destined to marry a stranger.
I would never again experience a passion that made me go weak. That would make me blind to all reason. The way you awakened my demons and made me love them! The way you kept making me asking for more of you. The way you never truly gave in to me. The way you stirred my body. Then left it unwanted.
But I am glad I looked back, that day at the airport. I saw a loser running away. It made it easier to move on knowing that you weren't waiting.
Marrying a stranger was not what I had imagined. Yet, on rainy nights when I cuddle next to him, he pulls me closer and makes me feel warm. He doesn't give me goosebumps, he gives me love. He doesn't make me ask for more, he keeps me happy and satisfied. Most importantly, when I cry he doesn't look away, he wipes my tears and makes me smile. You had my body, he has my soul. For that I am thankful to you. If it hadn't been for you, I would have never known what true love is! My affair with life begins now.
August 15, 2015
Like most corporate offices, we had Independence Day celebrations at my workplace. E-mails were sent the previous day informing the staff to turn up in colors of saffron, white or green (preferably traditional Indian wear). The otherwise dull looking cubicles suddenly had tricolor balloons stuck randomly. Everyone tried their best to pick up clothes that atleast fit somewhere in the color category of saffron, white or green. Selfies and team pictures were taken and quickly updated on social networking sites (yes I too posted a couple of them). And that was that. End of celebrations. That's what it has come to!
Back in school, Independence days were different. My school invited only 4th Standard and 10th Standard students for the celebrations on the 15th of August. Nothing biased. It was just that the class strength was too much to accommodate and manage every standard. Plus, the possible rains added to the chaos. The student to teacher ratio was overwhelming. But that didn't mean the other students were excluded from the celebrations. The 14th of August was all about patriotic speeches, stories of brave freedom fighters and singing all the songs to our hearts content. We would literally sing all through the school day on 14th August. The list of songs was never ending and we knew them all by heart. I still remember the times when "Ae mere watan ke logo" was played on speakers and I had goosebumps each time. When I reached my standard 10th, I was chosen to deliver a speech on that day. I remember writing the speech and editing it until I was finally satisfied with the content. I kept practicing the speech. On the day of the speech, my words just kept flowing, hardly repeating the things that were written. I spoke what I truly thought and covered up the gist of whatever I had written. I can never forget that day, because that was when I was applauded by the entire audience. My teachers patted me and told me that they were proud of me.
Every year, our school followed the tradition of calling the topper of 10th board exams to hoist the flag. How many of us get that chance? To hoist a flag and proudly salute as it unfurls? I returned back to school the next year to hoist the flag. In that moment, I realized the true honor of the national flag. Words can't describe the feelings of seeing your flag in full glory. I am sure every one of us has felt that innate sense of patriotism every time we attend flag hoisting. It all feels like another time. Of course we didn't have to fake it to show off on social sites. It was all natural.
Today, as I sat working on my laptop, another team was participating in some contest. They stood in a circle and sang "Mere desh ki dharti" while one of them was recording. The other teams looked at them, embarrassed. How dare they act like kids in a corporate environment? Don't they know better than not to display such childish behavior? None of us dared to join. I am sure no one even uttered one patriotic word other than forwarding Independence day messages. That is what it has reduced to. We stop expressing joy and learn to dissociate. What will happen if we feel patriotic? Nothing is going to change in this country. The politics has ruined every thing. In fact, our Independence itself is a big politics. The complaints are unending. Ask someone who is patroling the borders for you! There are hardly incentives, there are no coffee breaks and no day without a deadline. If each one us thought like that, we would be under another rule by now.
But we have all joined the corporate world and we have to be uptight about it. Says who? The problem starts here. We stop expressing the greatness and gratitude for the country. We only see the negatives. We create another generation of people who do not respect the country. Who do not know the glory of the national flag. Who do not know what it took to attain where we are today. The very people who click pictures with national flag and post on instagram, facebook and where not, do not even bother to pick one up the next day. Every one knows the story of flags on 16th of August. I do not need to repeat it.
None of us became leaders or politicians. But we could all become good civilians. Teach a child to respect the flag and he will know the sacrifices of lives it takes to put one up in a war zone. Do not forget the stories, for he may not become a freedom fighter but he will know what it takes to lead. Sing the songs aloud, for they were all created in memory of something great. Do not let the story die even if it is 69 years old.
Here's wishing you all a very happy Independence Day. Treasure it because someone lost everything for you to have it. Do not buy a flag if you do not know what to do with it the next day!
P.S: This is a very hurried post and written in absolute abandon of the relativity. Forgive the same because I could hardly control myself from putting it all at once :)
August 11, 2015
It feels like ages since I last posted here. Probably like another lifetime altogether. I just happened to read a Facebook message on darlings of Venus page and that lead me to open the mail box that I had ditched as it hardly had anything of importance. But, a lot has changed since then.
For starters, I am extremely sorry that I haven't read the mails asking for membership and guest posts. I was transitioning into a phase of life that I had no clue about and everything else just went into backseat. More on that later.
While I was still actively handling DOV, I had been requesting members to post and introduce new members. Response was poor, most of us had our own stuff to deal with. Darlings of Venus barely managed to pull through with a post or two. Imagine my surprise today, when I saw so many requests for joining. I shall personally write to all of you, if you are still reading and want to join us, I am excited to get you all on board.
As for the requests for review, I guess I am already too late.
I have decided to take active ownership of DOV back again. It all starts with a small push and I cannot do it without you all. I need that push to keep this blog running and not just crawling with bare minimum posts.
I shall make sure the blog has something new to offer every week from my side. I would love it if I get a minimum of one post from all of you.
Hoping I get a better response this time around..
July 24, 2015
I am a woman of 21st century. I am independent. I am strong. I can endure all storm. I can handle both my private life and professional life with ease, and well, how perfectly! I have everything I wanted, everything I needed, everything I dreamt of...or maybe not. There are times I feel incomplete. All this achievement, feels like a waste. All this success looks like the biggest failure. All this feels like a big vacuum, and this vacuum sucks me in every time I look around, and I find a big void all around me.
After all this achievement, after all this success... I don't have friends to cheer about it. I don't have anybody to talk to during cold depressed nights. I don't have anybody whom I can tell anything, and everything I wanted... More importantly, someone who will understand everything before I can say a word to him. I understand people around me...but nobody understands me. I hug people when they cry and sob, but no one comes to hug me when I feel weak and sick. I stay up all night when my friend falls sick, but nobody hands me an aspirin when I get my regular sinus attacks. I cry along with my friend when she goes through a breakup, but nobody even asks me how I am when I feel lonely. One call, and I am there at their doorsteps, but why can't they see my tears, and feel my pain?
I believe everyone is good at heart. They all are good. But in the end, why do they all turn out to be manipulators. I can see through their eyes and heart...hear through their sobs, and feel their pain like it was mine. But the least I expect is a simple 'how are you' or a simple hug from them when I tell them I don't feel good. Is that too much expectation? Am I expecting too much?
Life is a long journey. I have some true friends too, who like me, be there for me no matter what! and many such fake friends... I have many such friends, no matter how much I do for them, they can never see the tear in my eyes, the smile missing from my face, my lost appetite, my sleepless nights. Am I doing less for them? Should I do more? Somehow more always seems less to them. I have stopped bothering now. Still, somehow it bothers me to see them in pain. I wonder sometimes, is it that they just can't see my pain, or is it that choose not to see it? I will never know. But thats okay. I can't expect everybody to be like me. On a lighter note, life would be so boring if everybody took care of everybody all the time like me. And on a practical note, its good I'm surrounded by such fake people all around me, it keeps me well grounded, and keeps me from being dependent on anybody for my needs.
But there are times, I want to be pampered. There are times I want to be the drama queen. There are times I want to feel important. There are times I want someone to wipe away my tears. There are times I want someone to give me tight hug without me telling them to. There are times I want somebody to notice my mood swings, and ask me what's wrong. There are times I want somebody to be by my side. Just be there. To hold me when I fall. To hug me when I feel lonely. Just to say it'll all be fine. To listen to my boring philosophies. Talk to me during the night. Hold my hand when I walk alone. Hold my umbrella, and kiss me in the rain. Lend me his shoulder when I fall asleep in the train. To stay awake all night, just to make sure I'm fine. To fight with me on silly issues. To make up for the fight with a big chocolate bar. To hold my hand, and not let go. To hold me tighter when I say let me go. To stick by my side when I say leave me alone. To love me , even when I say I don't love you anymore...because deep down he knows we are meant to be together. Deep down, he knows I can't love somebody enough. Deep down, he knows, life without him will never be the same.
But life goes on... And life keeps me occupied. And like Wordsworth says...
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.