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 preapare 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 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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Religious moments

When I went out, the weather was crisp. It would definitely rain in the evening. I drove to the temple. After the puja, it started raining. The rain cleaned the idols decorating the gopuram. The raindrops fell on the stone slabs covering the ground like crackers. They slided down the tall brass tower like boats sliding down a water slide.

The brass leaves on the brass tower trembled. The raindrops fell like garland of pearls from the tip of the brass leaves. Oh, wait! I’ll collect them! The temple was purified.
I sat watching the rain. In the yard, the trees touched the ground due to the weight of the raindrops. The rain smudged the rangoli drawn from rice flour, kumkum, and turmeric. It flowed like a colorful river with flowers floating on it; a vase with flowers and floating candles! Sensuous!

The jingling of anklets on feet of kids and women! The hymns of bangles on the round hands of women! The sound of rain on the fibre shelter was like beating of drums. The murmuring of devotees was like mantras. So beautiful!

After an hour or so, the rain stopped. I drove back with a calm and peaceful mind. Was the drizzle cleansing me off my thoughts, actions, and deeds? I felt nice and fresh. Rain on me, more!
I’m awfully hungry. Can anyone prepare coffee for me?

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.

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.

SOLACE IN BLOGGING 

SOLACE IN BLOGGING

 

It’s another World, completely my own

To live just the way I feel

To read of my choice

To skip as I want

To comment if I feel

And leave no trail if that’s what I wish

 

There’s nobody to detect you

There’s nobody to direct you

If something you find bitter to taste

Just log out of it

Forget the blog and bloggers

And you’re back with no scars

 

Your post might not get featured

Views may be less than expected

Comments may not be coming

But you have all the choices

To swap between real and virtual

After all, life doesn’t end in blogging.

 

It opens new windows

Of knowledge, emotions and intoxications

To interact with people

Through their heart and mind

Where no physical aspect matters

No age, no place, no identity, no bar.

 

 

The best part of blogging, for me

It gives me solace

From my self imposed punishment

The dreaded silence

When words are all that matters

That I can forget all my pains & sufferings

I can overlook the “real me”.