Confessions of a Writing Freak

Everymorning while commuting to work , coming to screehing halt , when the lights blink yellow green and red,,amidst the tooting and honking of horns, I stumble upon hawkers selling trinkets and bits , eunuchs clapping away and hurling blessings or abuses,and beggars in tatters or on zimmers --- But Akash ,the polio stricken craggy boy of about twenty years dragging his body on his both hands  along the labrynth of serpentine rows of vehicles is not something I bump into occasionally, he is an everyday acquaintance, come rain or shine.Be it scorching sun,arctic cold , rains lashing down or howling winds--- Akash is always there , and unwittingly a kind of camraderie has developed over a period of almost a decade,his changing voice and scruffy stubble shows he has done some growing up over the years, donning a shoddy cap to prevent from harsh sun and wisps of dull hair peeking  out, a black thread with a talisman slung around his short thin neck( in a hope for some ...

In memory…. It’s three dreary , long painful years since you left but its not even three short minutes that you are not missed and remembered . Your fine mind, gentle spirit and handsome face is missed at every inch of time! I thought  Before and After  were terms relegated only to history …but my life too oscillates-around the events before You and after You…. Life before you brings the sweet memories of time spent together and life after you brings the wistful longings and pining for memories we would have crafted  and scripted together…if only fates had been a little kinder! I can not let go the memories, can not start over but just moving on …swept and swirled by dark undertows of memories which I hold close to my heart, life is but a jigsaw puzzle with smithreen of memories.. Your grand mien  and endless attributes can only be rivalled by the aura and majesty of nature and all beautiful creations  reek of your sublimity………… I feel you in the bracing gentle ...

It has been three long , painful,dreary years since you left but it is not even three small minutes when you are not missed . Braving the world, which is an entirely different one without you…. It is  still unthinkable and impossible to acclimate to a life without your best friend, loving companion, soulmate.   Losing you is having lost myself in the milling crowd……. With hobbled legs and lurching feet, I have been moving on ,living a life on your behalf too, doing things that would have made you happier,  attiring in outfits you would admire, cooking dishes that would have tingled your palate and hitting roads you would have loved to tread upon.   But all this  is with an aura of false gaiety  and fake  normal semblance….It tugs at my heart strings when I have to use so much of ‘ would have  and could have’ . Wish destiny was not so cruel and brutal to us.   The third year without you embarked with Yagnopavit  function of our ...

I have earned a reputation of a footloser amongst my  family and friends so the onus of choosing the  destination for the summer trip lay on  me, albeit I suggested Gurez in Kashmir  ,the bunch of cousins accompanying plumped for Himachal so I gave in ,but having visited Dalhousie and Dharamshala in April this year, I settled for Manali. Ours was a group of nine  and I felt in my bones that it was going to be a wonderful trip , being in company of loved ones ,time grew wings and six days passed in a jiffy amidst beauty galore. There was no pecuinary sense in travelling by air as the fares were devilishly high and a total rip off so, boarding Vandebharat train up till Chandigarh and a road trip ahead fit the bill perfectly. Trip to all hill stations are hackneyed ones as you find same old same old mall roads with maniac footfall, miffing traffic snarls, Tibetan markets...

As the nine day longand Durga Pooja festivities come to culmination,I m increasingly spotting  Durga in each n every female,even if a paler imitation. Women like  goddess Durga have  to combat demons like Mahishasur ', Shumbh - Nishumbh' , Madhu kaitabh ' wily Raktbheej and Chand - Mund  in her quotidian life,  and she encounters many more prowlers in her life time. "Durga" comes from durg or fort which protects an empire; doesn't a woman shield her family like a collosal fortress .Durga durg nashni is an ode to women who bring out people from rut of their miseries, misfortunes,agonies and dillema s. Maa Durga is most revered in Hindu Pantheon.A splendid,multilimbed goddess striding aside the king of animals,holding weapons in each hand,except one which is kept free for showering blessings to her devotees.Her weapons include an array of Trident,Conch,Spear,Axe,a Bow n Arrow,Lotus and masculinity depicting snake. Comparable to the nine divine forms of Durga...

Streetscaped Delhi Too exhausted and worn-out of hustle culture ? Fatigued and languid because of same old same old mundanity? .. A walk along Delhi streets or promenading in Delhi parks will certainly hit the spot. After the dreary , gloomy winters, the spring time is spreading cheer in the air, the beguiling blooms turning life from drab into fab..Majority of Delhi roads are dotted with vibrant clumps of flowers , despite a spooky AQI the air is redolent with fragrances of roses, marigolds, phlox and plethora of blooms exuding perfect vibes to elate  and unwind .. The sprawling , spruced  manicured parks are a place to wade into silence and peace , to retrieve your memories..The crimson orange band of nustratiums and daisies streaming across the walkways. Myriad shades of petunia s arranged in different geometric patterns spread a riot of colours. The base of tall lofty trees spruced with beautiful pansies. Every street and roundabout is a smorgasbord of vibrant colourful bl...

The wilted rose lies in my closet, dry n forlorn it stares at me , recalling and revisiting  the last twenty two valentine days.  Back in 98,few months after our betrothal , as I was coming out exhausted n knackered  after an arduous24 hrs duty in labour room as a first year pg,  I found my valentine coyly waiting near the parking lot ,propped  against his proud posession ,the black Lml vespa NV. His handsome mien,cutting a dash in a black leather jacket , white shirt  and jeans and of course  the angelic smile that was his permanent companion, was in stark contrast  to my fatigued,frumpy and groggy visage. I stifled my yawn and faked a smile,oblivious of the day it was. As he took out the solitary rose festooned with a red silken ribbon and swathed in a transparent paper with tiny red hearts dappled over it..My sullen and fatigued face morphed into an elated and vivified one..It was my first valentine ,a precious one.The wall flower k...