The Unbiased Freedom

The winged bird is always caged.

The wingless man was always free.


About my Recent Trip to Dalhousie: A Real Adventure

The trip was no less than a pitara of colourful adventures. To start with, our bus got cancelled 4 hours before the boarding time. Apparently there was some issue because of Independence Day. So we had to book another bus with quite some difficulty. Luckily we got the sleeper class for our 13-hour long journey.

We boarded the bus at 10.30 PM. Soon after boarding, we realized that we didn’t get the berth we had booked. We hung over to an upper berth and made a tiresome journey to Pathankot (in Punjab).

On reaching Pathankot bus stand we saw an endlessly long queue of passengers trying their luck out to get their tickets. Some of those passengers were sadhu mahatmas who seemed quite horrendous to an ordinary man. It was difficult to stand in the queue, though. After a havoc of 20-25 minutes the ticket window closed. We got agitated and enquired about the problem. It turned out that the window will reopen after an hour, which meant waiting for the bus for another 2 hours.

Finally, we decided to take a taxi to our hotel. We had to wait for the taxi for half an hour and shared it with another passenger. Luckily our fare got cut down by 700 rupees.


We started our journey to the hotel. It was quite a hot one. Gradually we went uphill and the weather became cool. We reached the hotel and went to the reception to check-in. There, we realised that our hotel had not confirmed our booking to Goibibo, however Goibibo had confirmed our booking to us. We were in a fix. After a myriad of making calls which took us more 3 hours, we were finally given another hotel by Goibibo and we had to go 3 km downhill with all our bag and baggage to reach the new hotel. We were dog tired till then.

We reached the new hotel and decided to take a warm water bath to rejuvenate ourselves. So we got into the shower, and after 10 minutes of getting our hair and body wet, the water was out.

We were stuck in the middle of the bath in the cold evening. My husband wrapped a towel and got out of the bathroom to call up for the room service. To make things worse, we were informed that water won’t be available for the next 15 minutes since there had been a blockage in the main pipe and it was going under treatment. We waited. After 20 minutes when the water supply was still unavailable we called them back. To our bad luck it started raining heavily, so the treatment was not possible then.

We cursed the hotel and came back to the room shivering.

It’s a hell of task to dry the hair in a rainy cold weather, and my hair is already long.

Nevertheless, I grabbed the blanket and dozed off to sleep.

When we woke up it was still raining so we couldn’t go out of our hotels.  We stayed shut in and finally it was time for dinner. Dinner wasn’t good either and I just pecked at few bites. I was still hungry, and felt like having Thumbsup so I ordered it. They gave us coke, but I managed. When I took the first sip my husband caught sight of the manufacturing date. Alas, it was expired.

We went back to our room and decided to watch TV. We switched it on but it wasn’t catching any signal. We came to the conclusion that it wasn’t our day so we slept back again.


The next day was pretty cool and fine. We visited the falls of Punjpulla and spent some relaxing moments there. We then headed to the Mall Road where I bought some wooden stuff along with the locally produced honey. We retreated back to the hotel at night and slept peacefully.


The day of 15 Aug came as a surprise because we couldn’t search any return tickets for Delhi; thanks to my husband who hadn’t booked it in advance.

We set our journey to Dent Kund and was mesmerised to see its calm and serenity. We sat there for few hours and felt the zephyr blow against our face. The best part were the clouds which hovered right above us. We drove back to the hotel and decided to leave for Delhi that night itself.  We also went to a church near our hotel. I bought a wooden flower vase from the Indo-Tibetan market, which was at a stone’s throw from the hotel.

It was quite difficult to find for a way back to Delhi. We luckily booked 2 seats to Delhi on a sleeper train which started from Pathankot. But the plunge lied in reaching Pathankot. Somebody told us that a bus to Pathankot arrives at 6.20 PM; so we waited. We waited till 6.35 but it never came. There were a few more people who had their train tickets booked to Delhi via Pathankot. We were a group of 7 people sailing in the same boat. We decided to hire a taxi and reach the destination on time. So we did. It was a journey of 4 hours when we were just taking the never ending spiral turns of the mountains. It grew dark and our journey became scarier. A guy played some good music and we felt better.

The driver dropped us at Pathankot railway station. Actually, not at the railway station. He dropped us at the outskirts of a jungle, and told that that is the way to the railway station. Yes, at a jungle. Although the distance to cross it was merely a 500-700 metres of walk, but that short journey was a horrendous one. The jungle was reverberating with a creepy sound and it was basked in utter darkness. We turned on our mobiles’ flashlights and made way along a narrow non-grassy way. We reached the station heaving. We looked for the platform mentioned on our tickets, but couldn’t find it. So, we, once again lifted the heavy baggage and went across to the other platform climbing the stairs up and down. We couldn’t find our train. At last, my husband, along with another fellow of our cab went to inquire at the Help Desk. We were at the wrong railway station! This news came to us like a big black heavy cloud, ready to burst over us. The silver lining it had was, we could reach the other railway station by catching a train from the current railway station. We waited for half an hour for the train, and phew! We reached the railway station; this time the right one. We were literally drenched in sweat by then. We located our train, climbed onto our respective berths, dozed off in a never-ending slumber, only to open our eyes on arriving in Delhi.

These crispy memories will forever remain etched in our hearts, like a soldier’s name on his grave.


ABC of Happiness

A- Appreciate what you have

B- Be Yourself

C- Cherish Every Moment

D- Dream Big

E- Exercise Regularly

F- Forget and Forgive

G- Get Going

H- Have Faith

I- Introspect

J- Just Do It

K- Keep Calm

L- Love Yourself

M- Move on

N- Nothing is Impossible

O- Optimism is the Key

P- Patience Pays

Q- Quit Addiction

R- Rejuvenate your Ideas

S- Sharing is Caring

T- Try Everything

U- Use, Don’t Misuse

V- Visualize

W- Work Smartly

X- X-ray Your Own Character First


Z- Zeroes Count

The New End

The laughter died

Gloom invaded

Sunlight dwindled

The hues faded

For the house basked in death.


The truck remained new

The clothes unworn

Darkness shrouded

The Moon arose with every morn

For the house basked in death.


Barren lap, empty arm

Shrieks were clouded with the calm

Her breasts deprived the mirth

The beginning ended with the birth

For the house basked in death.


I’m a Married Woman

I am a woman of India. I’m 23, and I am married. Is it too soon? Really?
You curse the girls who are not married in their late 20’s. And you curse the girls who are married in their early 20’s. What do you basically want?

I was under the impression that you marry when you have found the right guy and when your salaries can suffice you both. You marry when you feel it’s right. But, WHO CARES!

I’m a married woman and I wear shorts and dresses. Pinched again? Well, brace yourself; there’s more to come. I’ll wear whatever I’m comfortable in. My clothes are not short, your thinking is!

I’m a married woman and I don’t wear bindi, bangles, jewellery or vermilion. Do THESE things define a woman? I thought it was she herself who defined her.

I’m a married woman and I haven’t taken my husband’s surname. Well, I kinda love my own name, you know!

I’m a married woman and I don’t cook. Was I supposed to do so? Was cooking my born responsibility, just because I’m a woman? Do I really need to LEARN cooking to feed my family? If you are so worried about them, then why don’t you do so?
If you are so keen to make your daughters-in-law cook, I would advise you to hire a cook. Why squander so much money on a marriage when you can easily find a cook for your house at a dime a dozen!

I’m a married woman and I don’t live with my in-laws. Are your eyes wide open? Then fuck you! You live with the people you are compatible with. You live with your family for peace. I find none. So I don’t live with them. Simple. Why does that bother you? Ok, I have heard enough of these gibberish comments, “You are not an ‘aadarsh bahu’.” I don’t WANT to be! I don’t care what the world says! As long as I am living with my husband peacefully, I don’t give a shit to the world! I don’t live with them because I don’t want anybody to rule me! I rule myself. I’m mature enough to take my decisions. I don’t want anyone to make my decisions, or to WRITE my life.

I’m a writer. I’m the writer of my life.

About my Recent Visit to Pune

Just an excerpt of the 4-day long trip:


I happened to visit Pune last month. Because the city has a dearth of natural attractions and other marvellous sites to visit, I made sure that the hotel I book should be a fine one. After all, sojourning in the lap of luxury is itself an adventure!


So I googled for 5-star hotels in the close proximity to the Pune airport. I shortlisted 4 of them and finally ended up booking Four Points by Sheraton.


I was in luck, as it was situated at a stone’s throw from two of the top notch malls of Pune.

As soon as I entered the hotel, I was taken aback by the spacious parking area of the hotel. The entry to the mall hall involved a strict security check, which was quite annoying especially when you are moving in and out of the hotel frequently.


I had to wait for my check-in time so I sat on the couch. In those 20-25 minutes I had a nice glimpse of the entire lobby. The walls were white with a fine paint, and I was impressed by their sobriety. The hall was well-lit and it was neat and air-conditioned. It was basked in a melodious tune. I was looking for a chandelier, but to my amaze the ceiling was an empty space which simply showed the upper floors of the hotel. I went to my room which was situated on the fifth floor. It was one of the smoking rooms, which perturbed me. But as I went in, I was overwhelmed to see my suite.


It was a finely done suite with room temperature around 16 degrees Celsius. The hall had a 2-seater dining table and an adjoining mini kitchen. The kitchen was well-equipped and neatly done. The hall was dimly-illuminated and decorated with fancy show-pieces. I went further and threw my bag on the couch in the living room. I sat there and took a sigh of relief. I switched on the TV and shuffled through some channels. Nothing was apt to impress my tired soul. Just then I saw huge speaker beside the TV cabinet. I stood up to see the entire music system placed there. My happiness knew no bounds. I fiddled through some equipment and finally played some nice music. My soul was relieved, and I wanted to sleep. So I mustered some courage to get up and go to the bedroom. I went inside and wondered why I hadn’t come there sooner. I jumped into the bed and dozed off to sleep for a few hours. I got up and felt I should explore my suite more. So I unfurled the curtains at the grand window and saw a spectacular vista of the outside. Now my room was well-illuminated and I felt so rejuvenated. I unpacked my bag and took my set of clothes out. I went to the bathroom and was delighted to see it well-kept and hygienic. I had a nice long shower with some fine fragrances. Utterly relaxed and refreshed, I decided to go to the swimming area of the hotel. So I went there with my book and sat by the rippling blue water of the pool. I also had a glance of the gym nearby. It seemed to be well-illuminated with state-of-the-art machines. Then I made my way to the exit of the hotel as I was very curious to visit the Phoenix City Mall. I picked a cloth or two from Lifestyle and also bought a nice fragrance for my husband. Finally, I ended my day with a hearty dinner at the food court.


A Warrior Till the End

When the thorns are approaching with the intent of crushing you, you have to be the iron. You have to suppress and kill all those thorns which seem to weigh you down.

One thorn will approach your mind, the other heart, and the other will prick the rest of your body, till the time you start bleeding profusely. You will bleed. You will. But that blood will be the water for your rejuvenation. It will nourish your soul. It will invite you to more thorns, but this time you will have the power to defeat them. You will have the power to extract the thorns from the roots and crush them under your powerful paws. You will emerge out as a warrior. A warrior lusty for more battles. A warrior, hungry for success.
And then you will be a warrior whom noone can defeat.
You will win.


Nighty Night!

There are times when your life is at its hullabaloo. At such times your mind is clouded with a string of thoughts. It’s not even a string, to be precise. Rather, it’s an entangled bunch of strings. No thought seems to connect to the other. Yet, all the thoughts connect. Because they are YOUR thoughts; they reflect YOU.
At the end of a long tiresome day, you are darn sleepy, yet the evil sleep refuses to shadow you. It allures you to the very core, yet invites innumerable thoughts to your brain. And that is when the brain is at unrest.
These situations are a rarity; who’s got time to ponder at nights! But when they do occur, they conquer your soul and entraps it in its tentacles.
So what do you do when, on a night like this, you are cobwebbed with a gush of multitudinous thoughts and emotions?
You simply pick your phone and begin to ink the memo app.

Character Sketch

It’s a very small conversation among 3 people.

Have a look and judge the nature of the characters.


D: It’s been an hour we’ve been waiting for him!
B: But he promised he’d come. It’s my birthday!
D: I’m sure he won’t. Let’s go.
*One new text message*

I’m sorry, Bev. I won’t be able to turn up. I have to practise for my football match. Happy birthday!

Oh, how could I forget about your match! Practise well. Good luck!