RUNNING BACK TO MY MOM.

My obsession with clothes isn't fairly new. As a child, my fascination for shopping and clothes knew no end. Even when I was barely two. I vividly remember the moments when I'd come home with a glee largely visible on my face after shopping with my parents. Or the moments when I would ask for frocks with more frills. But my joy never ended with just that, because every day I would plead (often emotionally manipulate) my mother into showing me my new clothes till I'd wear them for a festival or an occasion.

I had tons of disagreements with my father about clothes. Just like today. I always liked something fancy. He always liked something delicate. As I grew older, my fascination for clothes increased along with my arguments with my parents about them. Soon, we arrived at a conclusion that we cannot do shopping together, and I took to shopping alone or with friends.

When I started earning, I imagined I could just buy everything I liked. Like I would walk into Vero Moda and walk out with at least five white bags or that I would simply step into Steve Madden and quickly swipe my card for a pair of glittery shoes that were carefully packed in one of their purple boxes. It would all be that simple, that's what I thought. Unfortunately, it was not. It was far, miles away from it. I would walk into a store and find everything so drab that I just walk out sad and dejected. I would walk into all my favourite stores in a mall and curse each of them for having things that don't excite me. And this isn't how I imagined things would be when I was a little girl. When I was a little girl, everything was beautiful. Everything seemed rosy. Everything looked like it belonged in my closet. You know what I mean? The little girl definitely did not sign up for this sort of disappointment.

Maybe you don't understand, but having a closet brimming with the choicest of clothes always meant something amazing to me. So, my fascination for clothes gradually turned into a serious compulsion to find anything half decent. Sometimes, finding half decent too became a daunting task.

My friend is engaged to be married soon, and I wanted to get a stunning outfit for her big day. Call it lack of choices or helplessness, I implored my mother to accompany me for shopping. This time, I did not use my half-baked brain or ideas, but only followed her and walked out with a little more than what I asked for. With a glee on my face  that the little girl would have approved.

I reckon there are some things in life that our parents know better. Be it the clothes that look great on us, or the life advice they constantly dole out on us. While it's not mandatory for us to follow it all, we lose absolutely nothing to pay attention, right?

P.S. Now, I got to go and adore my new dress all over again.

What If We All Looked Alike?

I have been wanting to write something today but cannot think of anything.

Why does this happen? When you want to write so much, there is no time. And when you have time, your brain decides to be dysfunctional. Sure Hemingway said that writing is all about sitting at the typewriter and bleeding, but today isn't one of those amazing days.

A while ago, I was talking to a friend who asked me if I would treat people differently if I were a different person. Honestly, I am not known for my best behaviour always. I am a slave to my mood swings, and it could get a little tough to keep up with my whims and caprices. So, would I treat people differently if I were someone else? I do not know. Maybe I would. Maybe I would not.

On a slightly related note, I have a different question. What if everyone in the world looked alike? Would you then treat your fellow human beings equally? Would first impressions and appearances matter then? Would you then compliment a person's beauty based on their ideas and thoughts? Would you then put an effort into understanding the soul of a person that is carefully veiled behind their face? Would you then differentiate yourself from the person next to you with more than just a face? Because you and I are practically just the same, and our window to the world is our heart. And matters pertaining to heart are always pure.

I do not know how we would treat each other even then but the world might be a better place to live in. I'd vouch for it.

P.S. Dear God, I know you have better things to do than read my blog, but if you just happen to stumble upon this post accidentally, maybe you will consider my plea of making everyone look alike in your next evolutionary project. It's time to jazz things a little bit, isn't it? Or just make the world dark where people are forced to have meaningful conversations with each other by not looking at each other? I mean, whatever you think would work. You know the best, obviously!

You Are My Lost Story!

As I think of the day we spent together, I try to put them into words.

I am not living in the past, I assure you.

But I am still fascinated by the beauty of those moments.

I still remember that day.

When I was in pink, and you were in blue.

With your dimples and the hair not so tamed, I still managed to find you debonair.

With my haircut disaster and a grin too long, you still managed to find me beautiful.

The conversations we had over the breakfast turned out to be our inside secrets.

All the kisses and hugs just remained as scars on my body.

I am not living in the past, I assure you.

But I still remember that afternoon.

When I crashed by your side, while watching TV.

And I still remember that evening.

When you stood by my side, as I was tying my hair up.

I guess I still remember that night when you dropped me home.

And when you sent me a message, “It was an amazing day.”

I remember all of it. Bits and pieces. Tiny shreds.

But I am not living in the past, I assure you.

The beauty of that day is still fresh in my mind.

The charm of those moments is preserved in my heart.

And your smile haunted me for days and weeks.

Maybe your aroma still engulfs me sometimes.

I admit you will be remembered.

But let me also confess this.

Someday, you will just remain as a lost story.

In the torn pages of an old journal.

Goodbye Blue Monday!

“It's just been a long week, that's all."
"It's monday night, Jess."
"My point exactly.” 
― Scott Westerfeld, Touching Darkness

As you read this, I am sure most of you must be heading home from work; some of you might be still stuck at work; some of you could be striving hard to meet the gory deadlines, and some of you might be thriving in your dream job.

You might be listening to the radio jockey's banter, or listening to Coldplay on your iPod; you might be sending a long message to your girlfriend, or you might be just musing over the details of your day. It does not matter. Most of us had a not-so-good day.

To talk about my Monday, it has been nothing short of a disaster.

But that is alright. I call it the change in the season. 

However, I will give it you straight--my mind has been a barn of thoughts and negative ideas today. 

Too many internal conflicts.

I did not let that affect my work today. I did not let it deter me from meeting my deadlines either.

There were a lot of things that took rounds in my mind. I decided to write them down instead, and get it over with.

This is to all you people, who are trying to come out of your dreadful day. (You might relate with a few.)

1. The last book you have read will give you sleepless nights and unwanted ideas. It will make you a better person if you let it. 

I have read If On A Winter's Night A Traveller by Italo Calvino, and I found myself being the protagonist on quite a few instances.

It gave me sleepless nights.

2. The coffee from your favourite place might taste bitter today. It is okay, your favourite waiter is having just another terrifying Monday morning.

3. The man you love will break your heart. You will feel lost beyond imagination. It is okay. He is just a human being, who finds it rather difficult to deal with his mess too. 

There are moments when it pains to even look at the person you love. Do not let it turn you into a person you aren't. No one gets to the top without being broken and beaten on their way.

4. Only love can heal love. Stop being that sulky little brat, and spread some smiles. Even if you cannot.

You got to do what you got to do. 

5. Your pet does not wish to play with you today. Do not whine. Maybe it has been too long since you treated it with something special.

We all can do with some love, here and then.

6. It is not even the 15th and you are already broke. You wish some funds would magically appear in your bank account. 

The next time, you might as well plans your investments better.

7. The pair of jeans you ordered from Forever 21 looks utterly boring and so not your style. Maybe it is an indication that you should make time for yourself to buy a pair of jeans from Mango instead of shopping for clothes online.

And if it makes you happy, buy a plenty of it. Never compromise on your luxury and happiness.

You deserve it. You know it.

8. How often have you been longing to watch a movie? Scout your watchlist for that romantic comedy or comedy drama, and watch it today. 

Laugh your heart out, or weep your guts out. You deserve a little drama along with an ice cream on a Monday.

9. No matter how hard you try, some people will leave. You will leave.

They will just turn into a lost story in your torn journal. Someday.

Let the good old memories stay.

10. A year ago, I was so badly stuck in a corporate firm doing miserable things. Even in the wildest of my dreams, I did not imagine I would come out of it and take up an actual writing job.

As I open my mailbox or inbox every morning, I end up receiving a lot of good offers, and messages from the readers of my blog and people I work with. You have no clue how glad I am when I read them, especially when I wake up to them.

Maybe your life will be absolutely beautiful if you put in an effort and truth in your work. I am not certain how long I will be here, but I am sure I have earned the courage to create and do what I love.


I hope this would make your hopeless Monday a little better. If it does not, I insist you open a notebook, and write down your thoughts and reflections. 

You can also share them with me. I will be totally glad to hear you out.

Settling For Happiness!

“HAPPINESS [is] ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED” 

― Jon Krakauer, Into the Wild

Be it euphoria or melancholia, I have always had a trouble expressing it. From a shy child to a reclusive teenager, I might have metamorphosed into a rather outgoing adult (MAYBE!), but I faltered in expressing things. Always.

Strangely, I was never troubled in putting my emotions in words. All I needed was a pen and a paper.

I believed it was the best I did.

In a nutshell, I would write everything in a journal, pretending the journal was my best friend, hoping my bright pink journal would be happy at my success, and gloomy during my shoddy times. Of course, it was not!

I might as well thank my stars for being blessed with a company of great friends. That did not pull me out of this misery either. My inability to explain even the most exquisite things was beyond my comprehension, however, my flair at expressing even the most mundane things with grandiosity surprised me. 

Much ado about nothing.

I reckon the stars had a different plan for me. 

I cannot handle extremities, and quite presumably, I tend to push people away during those situations. But people around me never left me alone--they urged me to talk about things that troubled or mattered, they hovered around me wondering if I would ever let them into my world. And I did.

It could be a simple text from your friend saying she is proud of what you do, or opening shopping bags with your best friend, sharing happiness has found its way into my life for all its intents and purposes. Amidst all the chaos of euphoria, mood swings, melancholia, I have also discovered one person who doesn't squeal in joy along with me; that person still taunts me in my joy. But it doesn't matter because happiness is pure when shared with that person.

I have never realized happiness would be this beautiful when shared with you, and I am coming to terms with it. Awkwardly yet happily!

This Is How You Raise Your Son!

This post is inspired from Thought Catalog's "10 Controversial Ways I Plan On Raising My Daughter." The moment I read it, I knew I had to write something similar.

People, or to be more precise, Indians are very concerned about how a girl child should be raised. You know there are a set of restrictions, and some really weird godforsaken rules that are passed on from the ancestors. Some rules are just beyond our comprehension. But I wonder why boys do not have to go through this major structure in their childhood. They are a little lucky. 

I know I am an amateur at this subject, and oh, I have no knowledge at all in this section but I really think it would be great if boys are raised up like this. (Some of the rules apply to girls too.)

1. Teach him. Teach him to respect people, and their ideas irrespective of the age. He must be able to respect people younger than him. Teach him to respect the right things. It does not really matter if the person who commits a mistake is older than him, he should be able to respect the right things only.

2. Art should be a major part of his childhood. Men who take interest in art tend to be smarter than the men who don't. They tend to be more considerate too.

Read to him in the night. Make him paint. Send him to music classes. 

Make a note that art and education should go together. 

3. Have you noticed that most of the men look for the qualities of their mother in a girl they like? It is impossible. Teach them that it is stupid. Your mother and the girl you like are two different people. No one can replace your mother. Teach them that from a very tender age.

This way they will not have any expectations.

4. Raise him without a religion, or a faith. You have been a religious chauvinist, and you know it. Do not let it get to him too. 

Give him the freedom to make his choices right from the childhood. 

5. It is okay if he fails and makes mistakes. Do not admonish him for that. 

It is alright if he scores 80%. Not everyone is meant to score 90%. In the process of abusing him for his performance at school, you are letting a 'Mozart in the making' slip away.

6. There is more to a girl than her looks, and her body. Teach him to respect women. 

This world has enough sexists already. We do not need more of them.

7. Do you find it strange that an individual changes massively after he turns into a parent? Of course, he takes up more responsibilities, and all that. But do you also realize that he turns into a selfish human being? He expects his child (boys and girls) to do everything as he wants. 

Give a break, people. They join the school, college, and an organization of your choice. You choose their friends and the person they are supposed to spend an eternity with. You choose their car, their house, its interiors and basically, everything. Why, just why do that? What is the point in raising a child when you intend to snatch their freedom from their hands when they turn 22-23? Don't you realize that you are turning your child into your replica? 

Seriously, it is not a cool thing. It is high time parents realize this.

Apart from this, we love our parents for all that they do for us. No offence.

8. It is too much for us to handle the male ego. 

Parents should raise a kid with the right amount of self esteem. Not ego.

You have male zeta ego? Good for you! Do not thrust it on others. 

9. Ask him to document his life. Give him a camera and a journal. Ask him to make memories and maintain a note of every tiny detail. Even the bad ones.

10. Travel a lot. Take him to different places. Meet different people. Introduce him to different cultures. Let him know the world. Just let him experience different things.