I check the numbers everyday; numbers of how many are infected, how many couldn’t make it. I don’t want to use the word dead, I don’t know why, but I hesitate. These numbers seem to multiply dramatically everyday, by the thousands in the website. I narrate it to my husband, “Wasn’t it 11000 something in Italy last time you checked?!” , he questions in disbelief.

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As if all your curls have thoughts of their own;
Dreams of their own;
And are rebelling against the comb;
Shooting here, there and everywhere;
Won’t follow the convention;
Won’t be tamed, won’t be framed;
And won’t apologize for being the way they are;
I hope you grow to love them ,darling the way they are;
I hope you grow to love yourself too the way you are;
I hope you find peace with your curls;
And embed their spirit into yours.


I will always love you a little more.

21 Jan 2020

I have loved you a little more, cause I have known you a little more.

As you grew from a few cells to my little baby, as you kicked and turned around in my belly, I have loved you a little more.

As I ran like a maniac, to hospitals, many times in fear that I lost you before I held you, I have loved you a little more.

As you came out crying out of me , all in blood and doctor held you so that I could see you, I have loved you a little more.

As you wailed and hungrily gobbled up milk and slept in my arms, day in and day out, I have loved you a little more.

As you cried and smiled, cooed and took in your first sights, I have loved you a little more.

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7th Jan 2018

I thought I knew what love is;
Yet after you arrived;
I was awestruck with its power;
How unconditionally it flows;
And warms my heart;
Reaches into nooks and crevices;
That I never knew existed within me.

I thought I knew what motherhood is;
From my Mamu who loved me so well
And yet as the tables turned;
It’s taken me by fervour;
It keeps growing;
Ferocious with every ounce of blood and milk;
That flows from me to you.

I thought I knew myself;
I thought I had figured me out very well;
Yet this newness in me;
Has taken me by surprise;
This patience and tolerance I never had before;
Seems to grow and mature;
Together with you.

There are times when I am exhausted;
It’s never all glam and glory you see;
Yet I wouldn’t have it otherwise;
Yet I wouldn’t have it otherwise.

Being a girl- good enough reason to be raped!

30th September 2018

She was wearing short skirts;

She was definitely expecting men to ogle at her;

Throw crude remarks and maybe molest her;30th sept

She was showing her belly and thighs;

Was she expecting to be worshiped instead?

Walking home late at night;

Of course she was going to be raped one of these days;

Going nightclubs and hanging out with boys;

Wearing tight fitting clothes;

Of course, men will be men;

Said both the men and women alike; Continue reading

Missing someone!

9th August 2018

missing someone

Missing someone isn’t always limited to a mental and emotional state. Sometimes, it may go beyond heart yearnings and can manifest itself into a physical form. You miss a person and your body aches- physically. You feel this acute pain; a void that can numb you. It isn’t same as a physical wanting; desire or lust. It doesn’t have any sexual shade to it. It is pain and yet not just any pain. The heart has its ways you see.

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#PressforProgress-  #IWD2018

8th March 2018

“Why do you need to celebrate women’s day”? Some (men) ask. “Aren’t you (in particular) getting equal rights to study, to work and to live”? “Yes, I have. We have come a long way, we acknowledge that. I (in particular) have been lucky, that my parents decided to educate me, raise me the best they could offer, and without much partiality. I have to admit though I cannot always ignore the whisperings, behind my back, when I take any unconventional decision; from people and my own relatives blaming it all on the freedom my parents gave me. I cannot ignore many lewd and unfair remarks that I have heard over the years; all that seemed to have come because I am a girl, a woman. I cannot ignore that my parents have had to be extra careful, extra protective, extra tensed all my life because I am a woman and they have to keep me safe. I admit that I have been lucky that I could choose, what to read, where to work and when (and whom) to marry. I cannot ignore that so much of our efforts at home or at family front go unappreciated because “that’s’ what women are born to do”. I cannot ignore that people expect us to fit into a certain role and perform certain duties without our consent. I cannot ignore how we are expected to keep quite at our own discomfort because the society will never acknowledge the pain.

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Pain is universal; it doesn’t have any language or dialect. Neither is their any color, caste of creed to pain. One small cut or a small bruise hurts me as much as it would hurt an Indian, a Rwandan, a Syrian, an American or a Russian. In Ghouta, news resurfaced that there are millions of people, and CHILDREN, living through airstrikes, bombings and shelling day in and day out. This has been going on for years and years now. So many children have died and many more have been scarred for life; both physically and mentally. These children don’t know, why countries they have only heard names of are shelling their building; some even have no clue about which countries bombs killed their family and turned their future into rubble.

You talk about world wars. You talk in length about how Europe suffered during the dark days. Yet, the pain of Ghouta; the cries from Syria and from all the parts of the world where humanity is bleeding; doesn’t seem to affect you. You can easily turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to the pain. Is this what your Gods have taught you? Ignore other’s pain; un-hear their screams and un-see their wounds? Or does your god tell you that only the wounds of the followers of your god should matter to you? People from these parts of the world don’t matter, do they? They become less of a human, is it, if they fall on some other less powerful parts of the world? You can ignore them easily at your convenience and continue being happy in your smaller cubicles, with your smaller life and smallest- almost insignificant heart. Is that so? Or maybe it is more convenient for you to look at the evidences; the updates and maybe type an “Amen” or two in the comment boxes.

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I wish you enough..- Paulo Coelho

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more..
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.
I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting…
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good- bye.

(Source: From Paulo Coelho Blog)

The Maiden grass song

14 Jan 2017

​As the wind rustles,

From in between its bristles;

A song magically emerges;

Different everyday and in every way;

Slowly, soothingly will it then sing;

And fill us up with a serene zing;

With everything we want to hear;

With everything we want to share;

It is the song of maidengrass!