The tougher you toil, the sounder you sleep.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
Employer: Hello. Good evening, sir.
Boss: Good evening. May I know who is on the line?
Employer: Sir, I am Mukul from the Sales department of your company.
Boss: Yes, Mukul. How may I help you?
Employer: Sir, I need a leave on Thursday.
Boss: What? Thursday? But you took one last week!
Employer: Sir, I want to watch the cricket world cup match.
Boss: So now cricket is more important than your job for you?
Employer: Yes sir, I really want to watch the entire match.
Boss: What nonsense! I won’t permit you.
Employer: Sir, I want the leave.
Boss: If you won’t come I’ll fire you!
Boss: If you won’t come I’ll fire you!
Employer: Hello? Your voice is breaking, sir.
Boss: I’LL FIRE YOU!
Employer: Sir, you can’t fire me.
Boss: I sure can.
Employer: If you do, I’ll tell everyone in the office that you are actually bald. And that you wear a wig on your head.
Boss: How many leaves do you want?
Employer: Sir, two would do.
Boss: You’ve got that.
Employer: Thank you, sir.
Boss: And listen, mum’s the word!
Employer: Sure, sir.
Hello readers and writers!
I do not post very frequently here, which became quite a concern for me. So, I have decided to visit here frequently. I have also thought of putting my book reviews here, though I’m not very good at writing book reviews. So, let me tell you, I’m a novice in that.
So, here goes my first review on this blog.
After reading this book, I was curious to know what did others think about it. And to my amaze, when I went through a few reviews on goodreads, I found a weird amalgamation. Most of the reviews were complete black or white; the book was rated either a one star or five.
I must say this book is highly perspective. It totally depends on your belief system, which is a determining factor whether you will like it or not. Parts of the story were indeed motivating and will push you to follow your dream. It will make you believe that nothing is impossible. It will spiritually connect you to God and help you seek your inner voice.
However, if you don’t believe in God, you will find yourself a little uncomfortable to adapt to the story throughout. Some of the elements of the book were quite superstitious in my view. For example, the Philosopher’s stone or the Elixir of life, or perhaps talking to the elements of the earth like the wind or the sun. So mine is actually a grey perspective, and I would rate it 3 stars.
The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho
Sometimes it’s good to discard the option of choosing a luxury and opt for the simpler version of life.
I once decided to take a rikshaw over my car to reach the metro station. Luckily! At first I was apprehensive of this choice because of the scorching summer heat, but then I just let it be.
There were already four people (two men and two little children) seated in the rikshaw, and there was just enough space for me to grab a corner.
After 3 minutes, the two men got down and it was just the two children with me. This made me a little uneasy.
I asked the older girl whom she was with.
“Papa,” she gave an innocent smile.
“Oh, so he is your papa?” I asked her pointing at the driver.
She nodded and continued smiling.
I smiled back.
I couldn’t resist the temptation to talk to her. So after a minute I asked pointing towards the other child, “Is he your little brother?”
She nodded again with her innocent smile.
I looked into the eyes of the little boy and gave him a smile. He didn’t smile back. Then he looked at his sister (perhaps to make sure if he was allowed to smile back at a stranger) and saw her smiling at me. This made him give me back a smile. I was a little relieved.
“Kya naam hai?” I asked in a child-like mimic.
The little boy didn’t reply. His sister said,”Prince.”
“Bade bhaiya ka Deepak,” she added.
“Okay…” I touched her cheek.
I wanted to give them chocolates. I juggled through the contents of my bag and found a half-full packet of chips.
“Ye loge?” I asked the little girl.
She refused. It was a little unexpected. I was wont to believing that poor children fancy these “delicacies”; candies and colorful packets of chips attract them. I was wrong.
I asked the little boy. He was about to refuse but he looked at his sister. She gave a little nod.
The little brother accepted the packet after the consent of his elder sister. He took one or two chips perhaps, barely eating them.
The rikshaw halted for a while. The driver turned back and said heartily, “Bhaago!”
The children laughed and got down the rikshaw. The boy had left the packet on the seat and ran screaming, “Maa..”
I saw them running towards a truck. It was the water tank truck.
A plethora of ladies had flocked around the water outlet with a bucket in their hands. Not all of them were carrying buckets. Some had huge utensils, while the other, used paint buckets.
I saw their mother struggling to reach the water outlet to fill her bucket.
I had realised a big thing that day. Candies or packets of chips are not delicacies or luxuries for the poor. It’s the basic necessities of life. Water, food, and perhaps a roof above their heads; this is all what comes in their definition of “luxury”. Something which we fail to know.
The loud music reverberated. Four beer bottles clinked. The speedometer hit its 160. The car swished across the streets.
That night, the new year of the beggar ended at the pavement.