All those moments in life that leave an impression, leave you in deep thought,and contemplation.
Find book reviews for reading that feeds the soul. Personal experiences, travel stories- for spirituality is a daily pursuit. Movie and art, as what works better therapy than these.
Sharing my inspirations, write-ups and artsy creations.
Book and film reviews and random abstruse musings.
Have you ever felt a yearning for something you can’t even define?
A keen longing for something you can’t pinpoint even when you are in abundance
of everything you want or need.
A dull ache deep in the heart for something beyond your comprehension.
A desire you are not aware of. A pain that has not got its due attention.
Some grief, not expressed, perhaps. Something. Homesick perhaps, even in the
comfort of your own home, amidst the love of your family. Homesick for another
It is a feeling that I have long searched meaning for. I
have felt this time and again. Mostly while traveling to new places, leaving back
known faces, and saying goodbyes, whenever the canvas of life looms large over me-
the miniscule human. What am I but a tiny dot in the vast expanse
of universe and time? A strange energy fills me, mostly in moments that
I realize would become precious memories of numerous tomorrows. I get
goosebumps as the vibes take over and it is as if Life descends into my very being.
I watch, I see, I feel and I miss. I can’t let go. It’s as if
something beautiful is passing, is in creation and I am seeing it happen- the
process and realizing that it’s not tangible. It is not capturable, it’s just a
feeling, and I know it will pass. Reality will come in any moment now. Practicality
will enter any second.
Last time I felt this was just a week ago. I and my best
friend were traveling to attend a dear school friend’s wedding. Years pass so
quickly. Memories of schooling and play times were just so fresh. While
returning too I felt that same passing sentiment. It is as a part and parcel of my
very being. It makes its presence felt whenever I am nostalgic or spiritually
Home is not
a place- It’s a person.
It’s like we are born on this planet to reach out to so many
lives through the years. Some connections are just meant to happen.
You are just meant to meet the person who would play a major role in your life.
Or when you are in need that person meant
to help you would pass right by. Strange are the ways of life.
And there are some people whom you would yearn to meet
again. But you are never meant to meet them ever again in this lifetime. Life
has strange mysteries. It plays out in stranger ways. You have no
control over life. Or death for that matter. You might be thanking the Gods
that someone at least exists in this very world you thrive in, while he might
be long dead. And you, oblivious of his demise might live a happy life of least
passing. Make sure you have your stay.
How many times have you felt something special when you met someone,
but then had to let go as the time was not right, or the acquaintance was brief
or things in your opinion were not meant to be? Or just that you
thought you were not ready? How many times have you stopped yourself from
talking to someone your eyes played hide and seek with because you didn’t want
to seem too interested? How many times have you made yourself seem unapproachable
to the other person wanting to bare his heart’s tales? How many times have you
made him turn the other way, sad and disheartened without a chance to say how
he felt, by your steel beliefs and stoic looks?
How many times have you let love,
genuine love pass you by while you were looking the other way cribbing about
life and other monotonous things? How many times have you looked in the
mirror and chastised yourself for the lack of courage to look just right in his
eye? How many times have you wallowed in self pity, “I have no stories to talk
about in my best friend’s next pajama party.” You don’t let stories happen. You
don’t let people in. Afraid of things being anything less than perfect-
your bookish imagination of perfect.
places as Life happens
While some of my friends are getting engaged, some are
getting married, and some are sharing awesome love lives with their adorable
partners, I am still trying to come to terms with life and my Facebook wall which
is full of congratulatory messages. My can’t help but think why my life has no
story- love story to be specific. Why was I so closed that love just couldn’t
enter the high rise walls? Now at this stage, dealing with the quarter
life crisis of a perhaps failed attempt to reinstate a career, or define my
goals, when my peers are moving onward and forward both in their professional
and personal lives, I feel lonely more than ever.
I miss so many people. For me it’s very easy to miss people. Friends.
Acquaintances. Buddies. Loving someone is the easiest and the most accessible emotion,
but I also tend to hide or dismiss it the most. Life of a philophobic. I fear having my own baby any time in life. The
thought of having no way out of loving someone so much, beyond anything I have
ever known, scares me to death.
perhaps a calling
Sometimes not knowing what I seek drives me crazy. I feel like
an idiot bulldozing around in life, spear heading things that don’t really matter
to me, championing projects I don’t care about, studying my ass off for some national examination I, perhaps, don’t have the right aptitude for, just so I could be respected by
my parents, relatives and society in general. I don’t know what I am doing.
Where I am headed to, what I am made for.
But then there’s this thought- why should I rush? Let’s take
things slowly, just breath for a few days, then take on new ventures and learn
from failures. Figuring out what we actually seek is a lifelong process after all.
But I do feel like an alien in this planet. I feel like I
was born in the wrong era, wrong age, wrong time. I feel like I belong somewhere
else, where I don’t have any freaking idea about. I feel homesick. Forever I
shall perhaps remain homesick.Homesick for another world. Another
timeline, dimension or whatever you want to call it.
Home has been elusive. I hope I’d find my home soon.
Busan Fireworks Festival is a big deal. It’s conducted annually near Gwangalli Beach, Busan, South Korea- one of the most popular beaches among youth in the country. Brightly colored lights in the sky, reflect in the crystal clear waters too, making it quite an enchanting sight. People throng from around the country and the world to witness the festival, it’s one of the much awaited one’s around the year. There’s music along with the sky show, there’s open restaurants near the beach, and roof top coffee shops where people can spend romantic moments with their loved ones while watching the beautiful fireworks lighting up the night sky.
This fantasy-like city is a backdrop in many of the Korean drama series and movies, providing the best suited romantic setting for a scene. Though the most recent one that comes to my mind is ‘Train to Busan’, the movie on zombie apocalypse, but the city is far from being dark or sinister. It’s the second largest island in Korea with beautiful scenery t…
You never know who would influence you so much that it changes the course of your life itself. When you meet them for the first time, you just know the person’s about to bring out the best in you. Years later, you realize what a miracle it was to have them in your life.
The role of a teacher or mentor is great- the one person that can show you the path you’d want to follow, the one person who can change your perspective and your life if you ever allow. In ‘Doctors’ the female lead character played by Park Shin Hye is influenced by her homeroom teacher to make something out of her life, and leave behind the careless wayward ways. You are lucky if you have a guide, who shows never tells; who acts never preaches and in turn inspires you to take the reins of your own life. He saves you from your own self-imposed doom, the reckless and uncertain future. He gives you something to look forward to in life- a dream, a wish to fulfill, an aim to work upon, and an ambition to chase. He lets yo…
Some people have an uncanny knack of looking through you. You cannot hide your thoughts, the workings of your mind from them. Your innermost ruminations are known to them. Your deepest desires are seen by them clearly. They just need to have an eye contact and they can see you. The real you. You can't get away with pretense. You cannot disguise in front of them. You cannot be safe in your fake cocoon when they are around. You are being watched.
“There is another city right under our city and it comes up only when you and I are together. Only you and I know about it and only you and I get to experience it. It keeps itself hidden from the rest of the world. And that is where I live.” He said.“And what happens when you’re not with me?” She asked.“I evaporate.” He smiled. The Reading Experience:
There have been times when I have devoured a book solely because of its exquisite narrative. I have relished it word by word and the sheer joy of the experience is beyond me to express. This is yet another such book. The narrative is cerebral, mysterious, addictive, and poetic – complete with metaphors, similes, rhymes, and rhythms. I remember two novels by international writers that had overwhelmed me, wowed me, blew my mind by their magical narration- ‘The Debt of Tamar’ by Nicole Dweck, and ‘We were Liars’ by E.Lockhart. This particular book ‘White Noise’ by Shruti Upadhaya is comparable to these bestselling gems.
‘Autumn in my heart’ is a tragic love story. It has tears in almost every episode. It is one of the four ‘Endless love’ season themed dramas- Spring Waltz, Autumn Tale, Winter Sonata, and Summer Scent.
Two babies are born on the same day- Eun suh and Shin ae. By mistake, they are exchanged by their families. While Eun suh’s childhood is a happy one spent with the parents and the brother Joon suh, Shin ae’s is a tiring one spent working in the restaurant and dealing with a thug of a brother. After 14 years due to an accident to Eun suh, the parents come to know that their blood types don’t match and that Eun suh is not their daughter. After huge emotional turmoil and numerous heart breaks, the children are switched back again, disregarding what will become of Eun suh and Joon suh. Both are never used to living without each other, and miss the childhood days immensely. Joon suh’s family leaves for the US for 8 years. The separation is heart wrenching. After 8 years, Joon suh comes bac…
Scarlet Heart has been one of the best romantic tales of the year in Asian Dramas, not just in Korean Drama. With an ensemble cast, it was sure to win hearts from the very beginning. It was the first series that I didn’t binge watch, rather I chose to wait every week and watched only two episodes that were available the respective Mondays and Tuesdays. I had never ever waited for any episode so impatiently. I watched the episodes again and again during the wait, read forums on it, listened to the songs from the series, watched the cast’s interviews, and still missed it like hell. I missed the characters for the five days that I waited every week for the next episode to be broadcast and be available with subtitles.
The strategy used by the directors and writers of this phenomenal series is one of sheer torture for the fans. They introduce so many characters worth meeting- some so adorable, some hard on the exterior hiding a painful past, some charming and kind and some wicked and plott…
After a day
of fun or annoyance or dejection or just mere boredom, writing is the only
getaway for a girl who has an abundance of thoughts and feelings, too
overwhelming to keep them in and too personal to say them aloud. To such a
girl, not being able to write is a nightmare and not wanting to write, a living
hell. And in the midst of it all, the medium of writing is a dilemma difficult
While I find
the idea of writing on a blank sheet of paper with a fluid pen, regal and tempting,
there is a comfort in the keyboard of my laptop or the keypad of my smart
phone. Though the sight of a person bent over a paper, holding a pen in his
hand, engrossed in deep thoughts evokes a certain charm and fascination, when I
sit down to try and create a masterpiece, I become aware of the triviality of
the words I write, the sentences I present and the ideas they portray. When I
do resolve to write a good readable piece in my diary, I end up with only a page
full of cuts and scratches and…