Tag Archives: LIFE

Love lived here once…

Love lived here once,

and now there are charred remains

Yes, there are heartbeats

and smiling at cute boys

Then there are memories

that flash across

rather strongly

and tell you never to be the same.


Healing happens

in its own time

and when it does

it surprises you with

the softest touch and a

long lasting giggle.

It is never too late to

have found blood

running in your veins,

yelling out to the world,

I have healed.



Late One Night…


Late one night, about six months ago, I was bored. My friend in America was bored himself. So we just started talking in fiction. I managed to create a little story including all our chats. I rarely write fiction. The story includes all the parts of our chats only. SO this was basically a conversation that ended up into a story.

London is really cold this year. Well, we are known to have blue weather for chunk of the year, but this time it is relatively colder. As I drive down the London Bridge, it is the season’s first snow. The city looks white. And the snow sparkles as lights from the buildings reflect upon the shiny surface. I see two silhouettes in the thick early morning fog walking on the other side of the bridge. I park my little car on the side as I try to get a clearer look. I try clearing the mist off the windshield to get a better look at the figures in the distance.

The first snow can be slushy and slippery and I decide to walk  towards them. As they get to this side of the bridge, I realize it is none other than Mr. Hopkins and his niece.Hopkins was a master of creating the most exquisite perfumes and people from all over Europe came to buy his creations. Celebrities, the rich and the famous, everybody was mesmerized by Hopkins and the fragrances he created. His little shop boasted of these moments from his career. Little frames that were now fading held pictures of Hopkins and his rich elite clientele smiling and beaming holding his creations in little glass bottles. The highlight of his career as a perfume maker was none other than when the Queen herself ordered his very special Moroccan Rose fragrance.

My earliest memories of Hopkins were of visiting his little store in the lane right next to Harrods with my grandfather when I was a child. My grandfather was a really famous wrestler and would wear a new fragrance each time he had a fight. Mr. Hopkins, a great friend of my grandfather, always had an exquisite range of fragrances ready well in advance that he created just for his friend.  My grandfather was extravagant in his ways and of course wined and dined with the best of the crowd. But Mr. Hopkins was one man who knew him for real. They grew up together. And the differences in their lives never distanced them. I cannot recall my last meeting with Mr. Hopkins, that’s how long ago it was.

Those memories urged me to say Hello to Mr. Hopkins. And of course, his niece was popular so there could have been no better reason to get a chance to see her. Margaret was talking about her. I am yet to meet her after she moved into town from Leeds. Maybe I could ask her to join me at Finnegan’s for wine tonight. As I was lost in my thoughts, I completely missed on closing my car’s door. That’s when it happened. Charlie, my brown mastiff jumped off the car and started running in the other direction.

Yes, Not again. Charlie was cute, but terribly disobedient and often been caught by the neighbors in their yards chasing around their cats. I have had to pay hundred of pounds in getting him trained to become sociable, but I guess Charlie had his own ways. After all he was a British dog. Strong and yes, stubborn, but everybody loved him. As I tried looking for Charlie, I heard a loud splash in the water on the other side of the bridge. I hurried to the edge, worried and realized that it was an old man who was throwing stones in the water. As I look for Charlie, the homeless guy asks for some money. “It is Christmas. Leave me a gift, Jesus will praise you.”

I rush to the car and pull out a doll with a missing limb. My fourth ex-girlfriend Nina gave me that doll. One day I randomly lost interest in her. Charlie was irritating me and I tore a limb out to make him a toy. Nina, she was caring, loving and maybe that’s why I never paid enough attention to her. I wanted to discard the stuff she gave me for a while now, but for some vague reason it never happened. Our brief time together was casual and fun. Yes, that limb is now Charlie’s toy at home. Just as I start thinking about the past, Charlie rushes into the car from somewhere. I leave him in the car and start walking towards the perfume store. The early morning traffic has created hustle bustle and of course I can feel the holiday season in the air. Mr. Hopkins and his niece are chattering with a lady in the store. I can’t really see his niece’s face through the glass. I am about to enter the store and she turns around to bill the products. And that is when I see her. Nina.

Value Yourself. Indulge in Yourself. Be Happy

So I read this somewhere and it pretty much made sense to me. “If you do not value yourself, then don’t expect anyone else to calculate it for you.” 

Over the last two and half years, I have come to realise that sometimes we end up forgetting who we are, what we want and where we would like to be in our life, especially when we are in a relationship. But the flip side of the exact thing is that when you have lived with someone you will learn innumerable things about life, reactions, emotions and most importantly co-existing.

My experiences have taught me several things. I have learnt not to overreact in situations when they are not in my control. I have learnt that there is this certain ‘right of the other person’ and a space in their life that you cannot invade no matter how hard you try. It will only leave you with bitter fights, arguments and lack of your own space in the entire deal. I also learnt how when you are two people together, you may still have your own life. Everything does not necessarily need to be ‘OURS’ or everything does not necessarily need to be done ‘TOGETHER’. You can find beauty is staying away certain evenings. I have learnt that you need to divide your time and your heart and invest in innumerable things that matter to you and other people you love. That does not necessarily mean that you love the other person any lesser or that you do not have any interest in them anymore.

But, the biggest lesson I ever learnt from my past was, “NEVER EVER FEEL LIKE YOU DESERVE LESS“. What I learnt was that ‘INDULGE in YOURSELF‘ and do not at any point feel ashamed about it. That is the biggest lesson we can learn from men. They are constantly indulging in themselves. They treat themselves like kings, they love what they do and they follow their passion. They do not shy away from making themselves a priority and they enjoy every bit of it. This leads them to be happier and in turn, they spread this happiness around. I rarely find male friends whining or cribbing about little issues. They love themselves and they are so damn right about it. They love others better because they are happy people.

It is important to love yourself. It cannot get clearer than this. People come and go. Some stay back for a lifetime. Some don’t. Better people come along and love you more than what you ever expected. But through it all, YOU are one person who will stay with YOU. You better love YOURSELF darling, because if you are not, then you are not going to be loved back and you are going to have a sad heart.

Hopefully, I am going to carry this lesson with me for a lifetime. Sometimes people around me might think I am selfish. Sometimes they may think I am disconnected. But really it is not about being selfish. We were not meant to be connected and unhappy. We are meant to connect to other loved ones and be happy. We make connections, get into relationships to be happy. And the more we are ourselves, the happier we will be.

Ephemeral, just like soft bubbles


Have you ever noticed how everything is suddenly so short lived around us? How come we don’t spend hours sitting at a coffee shop with friends, endless conversations and innumerable cups of hot cappuccino, pearls of laughter, leg- pulling and reminiscing old memories. When did these short gaps of talking end up being mere comparisons of who achieved what and who traveled where? Savings are no longer discussed openly. How come it was easier to talk to your friends when you were broke and had no money? A time when savings never existed and when debit and credit were mere words.


How come we don’t have long dinners that bring families together? The short, formal, sit-downs – do they satisfy people? I am sure they want those long evenings, with families meeting, drinking in abundance and laughing over childhood stories. Sagas covering decades of life – lived, experienced and innumerable incidents that have now met with blurred vision, old soft skin. Wrinkles laced with years of stories, tales of love, people and sorrow. What makes it so difficult to invest emotionally today? How come family events are now divided, making you simply, just another guest? 


When did work goals become so abrupt? When did deadlines that lasted weeks in the past end up being measured in hours? How come we don’t have those long leisurely weekends? Where did all the free time go away? When did it become so difficult to balance it all out?


How can we expect our emotions to sustain when we don’t invest enough time doing things that matter or spend time with people we love? Our emotions are equally short-lived, like waves, violent, loud and deep and still just like waves, short, subtle and dead when it reaches the shore. Extreme isn’t it?


I always feel that we will be a lonely generation. Some people merely call me cynical. Some blame it on
my past. Some never respond. Some of us realize it; some of us don’t bother to think about it because we are busy. We are looking for our goals, our aim, the perfect partner, the truth, the purpose. Some of us find it. Some of us just live with what life throws at us. Short lived love, short lived jobs, short lived purpose.



We are nothing but ephemeral. Like soft bubbles. Here, and then gone away.


Chicken marinated in basil and love!

She was choosing the chicken pieces from the chicken and basil tomato salad bowl quietly at a slow pace. Every little thing she served herself was then served in another plate, in either the same or more quantity. Her partner and she were occupying the smallest and the quietest corner table they could have found at the spacious buffet restaurant at Marriot. The place was bubbling with energy, people sharing conversations over food, children running around the dessert servings, waiters serving portions of mixed Indian breads.


As my friends and myself carried on with our conversations, gorging on food and desserts, laughing over silliness of random people, I would, catch a glimpse of her every now and then. It would surprise me that she would spend so much energy in serving two portions every single time from each laid table.  Her face had a calmness that is difficult to explain. She had small brown eyes and every single time she looked up, she would smile back instantly. It was like she was answering all my questions.  I was at that point just unable to read them. Her grey hair was witness to all these years of experiences she had gathered.


I was curious about her and her partner. Each time I tried looking in the direction of her table, I only saw the face of a man, smiling at her warmly. They were enjoying a nice, personal dinner on Saturday night. It warmed me that people their age, had decided to come in, have a nice dinner on a Saturday night rather than sit and watch television at home over a meal of porridge cooked by the wife. I did wonder several times as to why the man wouldn’t serve himself. And in between my conversations with my friends, and of course tons of activity around food, I did try and take a peek at him, but for some reason my vision of him was obstructed by the soup and salad bar.


We continued having dinner and stuffed ourselves with a million types of desserts and fruits and decided it was time to head home. My friends wanted to have a smoke outside and so we were standing in the smoking zone, observing people, a favourite activity Indians have inherited in their genes. We love observing people, we are also unfortunately pretty loud about our opinions of them in social settings. We gave in to our genes and continued talking about people, their cars, their behavior and such. Then as we waited for the car, we saw an auto-rickshaw in the hotel drive-through.

The auto-rickshaw had come  to pick up the brown-eyed lady and her husband. They had finished their evening meal and supposedly were now heading home. It took the old man a while before he could get into the rickshaw. Moving your entire body-weight from a wheel chair to an auto-rickshaw is going to be a tedious task. I found my answer. I was humbled by them. By their sheer will to survive, to come to a dinner on Saturday night and not choose the easy option of sitting at home because of his inability to move around comfortably.


Each of us, we fall in love easily. Unfortunately, we fall out of it even more easily. I asked myself a million times since I saw them there. What could have motivated them to go through that evening but sheer love and the want to enjoy an evening together. Just by themselves. She was committed to serve him every single thing and make sure he enjoyed his meal. He was committed to taking the pain of coming to a hotel, that is not handicap- friendly, unfortunately. (of course this topic deserves another note)


That is what I wish for each one of us. Pure dedication and commitment in our relationships. For me this was an enlightening experience to go through it all, to witness mere strangers change my life and realize that if the world were falling apart right now, each one of us should have someone looking out for them, no matter what.

The strength of being me!

What would you do if you look like a loser to the world although winning the war within yourself? Where would you go to find peace when everything about you is burning to ashes? I know of only one power that can calm this rage inside me. It is the strength of being me. What would you do if you feel like the world has disowned you as one of its own? And all you see around you are demons talking about paradise. Where would you go to understand the purpose your own existence and what shall become of you in this mortal haven? I know of only one power that has the solution to these inconsequential queries. It is the strength of being me.

What would you do if the one you loved the most forces you to walk away, far away, into the horizon? How far would you go to find the answer of this one question that eludes you and understanding that the only victory you claim will be of quenching your own soul? I know of only one power that can help me on this conquest. The power of being me. What would you do, if all you saw in the mirror was this soul trapped behind bars, and all you feel is your need to look for answers, while you flesh numbs?

Sometimes life throws at your incidents that make you believe that the blows don’t hurt anymore. And the wounds, not healed, are fine. I know of just one power that grants me the permission of living with no questions asked. Because it knows what it feels like to be defeated. It knows what it feels like to lose someone and to win someone back. It knows what the world stands for now, and what it used to stand for.

It also knows that both victory and defeat have wounded me in time beyond recognition but it always stays silent because it has fought my war in another time and the only way to move on is to experience this.

It is the strength of being me.