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.

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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!
Chris

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

Mum’s the Word

*ring*

Boss: Hello?

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!

Employer: Hello?

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.

The Alchemist — Review

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

Luxury

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.”
“And yours?”
“Amrita.”
“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 Evolving Meaning of “Social”

In the era of Whatsapp and Facebook do we ever care to actually make a “call” our kith and kin? Our mobile notifications are arrayed with numerous text messages, but how many calls?

Today, calls are made for business purposes, interviews, or official tasks; sometimes for the tasks which require some urgent response. Apart from that, our everyday calls to message ratio might be 1:20.

There is this strange thing about telephonic conversations. If ever I receive a telephone call from a friend, or I am obliged to talk to a relative on phone, I am at a big fix!

The first 30 seconds are okay when you fill up the gaps with ‘Hey’, ‘How have you been?’ and ‘What’s new?’. But… What next? After that half a minute’s of awkward silence I am like — What should I say now? –Who should speak now? — Should I ask about the job? — She might feel offended — God help me! In worse cases I end up stammering a few words.

The problem is nobody has time! Or may be, interest! Is that even a problem? People say today’s generation is glued to the social media, but are we really “social”? Or has the definition of “social” evolved with time?

Gone are the days when our neighbors used to visit us in the evenings and discuss about the rising prices of vegetables. Gone is the time when we used to flock up after every power cut off. Times are changing. The meaning of “social” is changing. Telephonic conversations are merely customer service or sales calls. Friends’ hangouts are nothing but large selfie sessions and junk gorging. Sometimes we meet our own parents twice a year!

The so-called “social” generation is not so social. At least I am not. Are you? Correct me if I’m wrong.

When a Book books a ticket to your heart…

You keep tossing throughout the night, wondering random things. You are unable to sleep and keep thinking what’s bothering you, what’s making you unhappy. As the night grows darker you begin to feel very sad; so sad that you feel the urge to cry. You keep thinking the cause of this unhappiness, but you find none. So, you give up and end up waking your husband.
“I’m feeling so sad, I don’t know why…”
“What’s keeping you awake, baby?”
“Something is bothering me, but I can’t figure out what!”
“Is this the game of cards you lost in the evening?”
“No, it was just a game.”
“The whole day had been great. You enjoyed the dinner too. Then what is it?”
I keep pondering, unable to decide…
After a while of fathoming the depths of my heart, I remembered I had been reading a book in the afternoon. And what’s bad? The female protagonist had died. And I had left the book in the middle, right then. It was THAT that was troubling me.
“Are you okay?” asked my husband, half asleep.
“Nothing, it’s just the book.” I faked a smile.
I slept the night away, wondering how each book imbibes itself in your heart. Forever.

 

#TheEndOfTheAffair

Cooking

Making food is an art, and is quite similar to making love to a person. Food is a nice amalgamation of — I won’t say spices and vegetables — but the cook’s feelings, his love, and experience. The artistic fingers of a cook can really do wonders! The amount of ingredients, the order of putting them, the duration of cooking, and so on; each of these reflects the taste of the food made. There is an interesting relationship involving food. As I mentioned, the taste of the food largely depends on the feelings of the cook. Similarly, the taste of food affects the feelings of the eater. So, it goes something like this:

Chef –> Food –> Eater

In a nutshell, everything depends on the chef. Let’s say your wife was in no mood to cook some good food for you. So, in a short span she cooked whatever she felt like. Food, devoid of her emotions and art. You have that in your lunch. Lemme be more precise; you had to have that in your lunch. No matter how less you liked it. You feel bad, and it spoils your mood. You eat less perhaps, which again makes you feel hungry, and consequently ends you up in a bad mood. And the rest of the day goes that way…

So, you see how making food is an art! Somebody has very aptly said, “I think careful cooking is love, don’t you? The loveliest thing you can cook for someone who’s close to you is about as nice a valentine as you can give.”

So the next time you cook, do it with all your hearts. Either cook willfully, or don’t cook at all.

#SomeRandomThoughts

 

 

Having THE Eye

This world is a melange of colorful people. For instance, red people– full of vigour and aggression. These people are volcanos. They will burst their lava out and affect their proximities and people in them. These people are always full of energy. They will ignite you too. Be with them for a while and find a tinge of queer energy in you. These people act. They make YOU act. They make their presence felt. A rendezvous with them will make you never forget them.

Contrary to them are white people. They are angels. They will pacify you. They will cool down the lava boiling within you. They will give you peace. They will make you feel that everything is okay and everything will be. They transfer their calm and quietude to you.

Talking of white makes me want to talk about black people. These people are very mysterious. They are so shelled within themselves that you will never know them. There might be some gloom mushrooming within them; may be some mischief; some terror; some inferno… who knows! Beware of them!

Well, we have bright people too. We have green people. People full of life. People full of optimism, hopes and bubble. They will keep reminding you that YOLO. They will live and let live.

You will find a multitude of these colours on a half-an-hour walk by the roadside. Some are monochromatic, while some, a perfect morph of various colours.

People are different. They will act differently. But, more than them, it is YOU who make them different. It is that EYE of yours which makes them different. We all have different eyes which see what they want to. In a nutshell, it’s all ‘perception’. Think differently, see differently, and within a moment you will realise how an annoying begging boy will become a child desperate to study with that money! It’s all perception, my friends!

It’s in the head. It’s in THE eye.