The moment I wake up

The moment I wake up after a night sleep…it starts my day …mostly the sun is never there…but there’s a mild light in my room. My house is adjacent to highway …very rarely there’s silence…still I chant sanskrit mantra Karagre Vasati Laxmi which been taught to me since I learnt to speak….since when I was born I had the habit of sleeping at 6pm and getting up at 5am or 6am so.

The first thing I do when I get up from is wash my face with water and drink a little cold water . Standing in the window and enjoying the fresh morning breeze on my face is one of my favourite things. The sounds of vehicles passing by never stops …very rarely chirping of a sparrow is heard…when the highway is silent. The city is still to wake up.

The next thing that comes to my mind is performing a little bit of yoga for 10-15 min with mild classical music. I get tempted to have coffee or tea and yes I prepare coffee or tea myself. Mom saves a cup of yesterday’s milk for that. I come walking to window enjoying the fresh morning breeze sipping tea or coffee.

My mother and I have spotted some flower trees in my neighbourhood and I like to visit these trees for flowers …mostly what I collect is yellow or red hibiscus …jasmine and roses. But my mother compels me to have a bath if I go to collect flowers for morning prayer. After collecting flowers the task assigned to me to bring milk bag..the grocer just smiles a bit looking at me and without saying a word and gives me the milk bag of one litre.

I either jog on the huge gliding centre in front of my house building or I do cycling. I love to see twilight sky with reddish blue shades inhaling the fresh morning air. By the time I reach home morning breakfast is ready for me. Graduation engineering exams are just over. Atlast a little break from studies after 22 years. Got selected in campus interview too but joining is in the month of February. Till then a little break..mother feels I should concentrate a little bit on cooking and I religiously help her. It will take a bit of time to enter the new phase of my life. Again there’s going to new world and new people in it. I feel I should try for Gate exam too. I may continue with my post graduation too..but it will be as per things that are going to favour me.

How’s your morning don’t forget to mention

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Seperated but still love you

I hope it hurts you.

I hope your heart aches everytime.

When you hear my song.

You feel yourself staring out of the window.

Wishing one of the faces in the crowd would be mine.

Just so you can see me again.

I hope it hurts everytime it rains.

Since you still picture me.

Sitting by the window with a cup of coffee, lost in the pages of a new book.

I hope it hurts everytime you passby a bookstore

Because you know if I was there with you

I would drag you in the store then you would whine the whole time.

Getting jealous of the fact that books are getting more attention than you.

I hope it hurts when you are walking through a crowded street.

You get a whiff of your favorite smell.

You feel like burying your nose in my hair once again.

I hope it hurts every time you hear a giggle similar to mine, you try to visualize my face and the way it lit up to a joke you just cracked

Honestly I hope it hurts you , because I know I was not just an another name to you.

Death of a Bookstore

Death Of A Bookstore
The room is cold and sterile,

Bereft of sensations.

The walls exude a chill,

As a thin light through the window spills.
Casting pale shadows on racks,

Dry yet musty,

Where the tomes rest, in slothful idleness,

And volumes of tales, lost in translation,

Spineless and desiccated,
Paper backs and hard backs, in desolation,

Their timeworn leaves rasping sad stories of estrangement-

None to take, none to hold, none to own.
The bibliophile

Saunters in the empty aisles,

A loner, looking at

Straightjacketed books,

Dissociated and distanced by brackets.
Foggy titles on dusty covers and dusty jackets.

This world is spookish,

And anything but bookish.

Oh for that waft of warm scent!

Of bounded leather and printed paper,
Of steaming mugs and rustling leaves,

Of hushed tones and sunny spirits.

Alas! The bewitching hour is spent.
The bookworm’s beating heart stills.

The truth unveils,

Like an anticlimactic ending of a chapter,
It is now a local lore,

‘Death of a Bookstore’
Electronic earthworms can now chomp ‘n slurp away million bytes a minute to flashy pen drives as we relax getting a caffeine refill or hairdo.

Whether we get it all into our grey cells is another matter!

Era of the on demand literati has arrived.

When book stores die let electronic stores sprout!

More money in the latter if you ask me!

When you come 

Come unannounced sometimes 

When you are like free rhymes,

That comes creeping anytime. 
Come and remind me of my existence 

Call me by my name with persistence 

Flying like a broken kite in daylight 

Bring in smiling happiness bright.


Come like a bird on my balcony,

Chirps in dawn with sweet melody

Like the cold breeze kisses my cheek

When I feel exhausted and weak.


Come like the fragrance of petals 

Crossing through meshes of metals

Drown me in your tender presence 

I long for those liberated moments. 
Come like a child without inhibition 

Who comes to play pranks forbidden 

I need playful gestures of innocence 

When nothing matters but sensations.
Come with the gift of your vacant mind

Stealing some mischief of sunshine

Under the tree our hearts will swing

We will fly together on unseen wings.
Come to spend the day at leisure 

When our company is the only pleasure

Don’t bring a watch for time to measure 

Introspection 

When I wear the wings of my dreams,

Then I sing the song of my life,

When I hum the tune of my wishes,

Then I write the enchanting words of delight.

Golden hair strands, roll over my forehead,

I carefully put them aside,

This is when, I look into my own dreamy eyes,

I turn to the keyboard, I smile and I write.

Flowers of ecstacy, spreads their fragrance in the air,
I look at the thorns, that pricked me, once in disguise,
Suddenly I realize, What I have inside,
The most valuable possession is life…

The curls of my hair, flutter in the air,

The lashes of my eye, blink and I sigh,
Looking at the past is a long lost lane,
I wandered here and there, never wanting to be sane…

Raindrops asked me to sit and introspect,
I love rains, I finally have to give them respect,
The winds moved and then took a new way,
I realized my life was simple, yet on a highway…

I look out of my long –glass-window pane,

I see someone running to me, I realize its rain!
I stepped in my own shows, removing the mask over me,
The shining face beneath was making a plea,

Then I realized…

Colors of mist may mock in pride,

Devils of past may ridicule in every premise,
But I look into the mirror,this is when I smile,
I know, I haven’t lost myself, I am a true being inside.

Editing 

Life is an unfinished book 

Future pages are still draft

Write, edit, erase, cut…rewrite it again and again to get make it a perfect book.

Every comma, full stop, semi colon, question mark, exclamation mark has a meaning. 

Each punctuation mark is powerful enough to change the whole meaning.

Check, recheck, edit, reedit every single line, word, phrase and punctuation. 

You should edit grammar and sentence structure as well because they can create or destroy the meaning

Editing is boring.

Editing is time consuming.

But it’s necessary to make the perfect book-life. Never regret for a bad first draft.  

Remember no draft is final till it is published.

Write and edit your book of life carefully to make your draft of life as a happy journey.

Life is not a film. There are no happy or sad endings.

Life is a continuous journey…like a river.

My sadness


On some days,

My sadness is small ;

As small as a teardrop rolling down my cheek.

And on the others,

It’s too huge to fit into my hands.

It stretches, it expands

And becomes a giant monster.

It visits me on lonely nights 

With lilies and chocolates.

It slits my skin

And pulls out my veins

Like guitar strings 

And plays a strange rhythm. 

It sings gloomy songs to me

And makes me eat bitter memories for dinner.

On some days,

It hides inside my pocket like a baby bird;

And on others,

It holds my hand

Like my lover

And we go out for a walk.

It makes love to me every night 

We blend into each other;

So perfectly that 

We become indistinguishable. 

But when I try to leave,

It screams,

Groans,

Cries,

Howls like a wolf.

It throws the crockery at me

And cuts my skin with a knife.

It bites me

And strangles me until I’m out of breath.

Common things about me and my dad

Hey, here today I have something, which I really wanted to write since long.  Today I am here to tell you all some things that I and my Dad share in common….

All my life I have been Daddy’s gurl.Still I am…hey, all the men out there who are single…can not understand this…how it feels to be Daddy’s gurl…and all those married and father’s of baby girls…can be proud of, after reading this one…for, this is dedicated to all of them…and also to the wonderful daughters…

Half of the year I have a bad throat…gawwddd how it aches, tonsillitis yap, have a severe problem of tonsils yaar, and each time I get that, I almost loose my voice,but, ye kno I have inherited this from my Dad and then I just become happy saying we have it in our family…my Grand ma had this, My dad has it and I also have it…hehhehe

We both cry while watching movies…both of us are big time movie buffs and very emotional. Each time we watch any movie, even on the slightest of emotional scene we both drop tears. I remember once long back we both were watching “Daddy” in the night at home. When the movie ended and Mom switched on the light she burst out laughing , seeing both of mine and dad’s pillow fully wet with tears and we said to Mom you are not at all emotional yaar…

 Both of us are very choosy. It’s although the other thing that he chooses so fast and always the best..n I take  hell of time even to choose a single dress and end up at second best.

Both of us love driving….he drives slow n safe…I drive rash and bad.

We both have a common person who is the love of our life….yeah! My Mom.

 Rains can make me go mad, I m crazy about rains and so is he…we both love rains…though each time we drench n come inside, we catch cough and cold and then Mom scolds but then…can’t stop loving rains…

All the honky-ponky, crisky-prisky, houtie-toutie, doodle-do things are done by me and dad at home…we make a mess around..now for people who are thinking whadda hell these okie-dokie words mean…hey dontcha worry…just break your nerves…and figure them out.

Ahhaaa!!! Our romance with tea. My Daddy and Me are big time Chaii lovers…ya…we prefer “Cheeni Kum”

Big time readers, anything, anywhere…and we start reading…

He is a master in Mathematics …man!!! Ask him any damn thing about mathematics…. algebra ,geometry, calculus, trigonometry statistics he knows everything about it…He was the only person who developed love and craze for mathematics in me.My second option was a Phd in mathematics if I hadn’t got engineering. He helped me lot for engineering mathematics too.

Both of us are fun-loving, jovial, ready to crack jokes all the time..hey! Dad u have a terrific sense of humour.

Both of us love to explore places, go for adventures and roaming freaks…hahhaha mom is always annoyed with our pre-planned-not-informed-risky-trips-to-her.

Both of us are very short-tempered. He says that I am more than him…can’t help…after all I have inherited that.

Me and my dad loves to discuss things…discuss!!! Yes that’s a different thing that later on it becomes a debate and then a WAR… when we hold different sides and then no one in the world can make me agree with him and also vice-versa…again..Property of Inheritance…

Both of us love to Grab a Tee and a jeans and floaters and roam around, clicking pictures and then later on me finding faults saying “dad u could have clicked it in a better way, from some different angel and he says no this is the best” woteva…

We both are robbers of all the techno-electronic-gizmo gadgets of each other…just 2 days back he took my latest digicam and silently placed his on my place…and I then, as a part of revenge, exchanged my silly Lenovo cell with his hahahhah….damn new Samsung….who’s at loss?  Say dad?

Whatever it is, but then I am proud of my dad for he always gave me the freedom of expression, to fight for the right thing…with anyone,to grow on my own, to take my own decisions and was always supported by him.hey Dad didn’t I gave you all the freedom to argue with me????
 I love when people say that I look like my dad,hehehe coz My dad resembles my Grand Maa and so I resemble her..who is my ideal…and so I love when people say that I resemble my Grand maa…

Another thing we have in common is that I love my mom the most in this world and my dad loves his mom the most in this world!!!

 Still have hell many things to write about us in common and where we differ, but that’s for someother time…

Mom is screaming her lungs out to have my big cuppa tea which is made by her the third time coz it went cold n I hate drinking cold tea…she says I will throw your lappie, else come here…I know she can’t do that…my dad is sitting infront of me ,unaware of what I am typing and winking at me…saying to Mom Chill yaar…heheheheh enuf…

Ciao for now…n I salute to all the Daddy’s in the world…hey you people are great.Love to all daughters…

With lots of Lolzy Polzy Love
Kiran