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Showing posts from June, 2018

Horse Riding Lessons #WriteBravely

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Horse riding was no cake walk for me.
I feigned ignorance for months about the rule for Princesses to learn to tackle a beast like that. For weeks I would hide somewhere innocently when it was time for the lessons. The experts appointed for this task left their posts within weeks. Hah! I would make each one leave. It’s a war now, between my father - The King and me.
One morning I spotted a rather young man near the stables. The maids were gossiping how handsome he was. Some whispered he was a year or two senior to me. Huh! He must have just graduated then. Father is appointing amateurs now, I see. Had I not been home-schooled, I would have known school life for myself.
I chose the haystacks in the courtyard of the servants’ quarters to hide that day, much pleased with my choice. The sky was beautiful and so were the house-sparrows. Just as I admired my surroundings, a head popped in front of me from nowhere.
“So here you are. You’re late for your classes. Let’s go now,” he pulled …

Adiel and Silah #WriteBravely

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..... Years of separation weighed down upon me. I had missed him, so much, and had almost convinced myself that I had forgotten him. I could only stare, teary-eyed. Seeing him in front of me within a tangible distance felt surreal. He had grown, and so had I. We had transformed to mature adults from carefree teenagers. Time had passed unhindered, and providence finally had us meet. But we had no words to speak. He was as surprised and emotionally moved as I was.

‘How have you been?’ Adiel asked breaking the loaded silence. That did it. All the welled up tears found their way down my cheeks. I couldn’t contain them, even though afraid to create a scene at the party. His face construed with concern and pain. He put his glass of wine on the nearby table and moved closed. I was too overwhelmed to start the long overdue conversation. ‘Silah...,’ he brought his hand near my face. I turned and ran towards the door, into the darkness, away from the intimidating lights. ‘Silah, wait, please,’…

Life In Captions #WriteBravely

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She had wanted to curate everything. Every new dress, every flower in the garden, every scene on the terrace, every day-out together, and every new experience. She would click for some and then capture some more through words. 
And he would happily let her have her way. While he believed in living in the moment than fidgeting with the camera and the notepad to capture it for posterity, she was quite the opposite. She relied less on her own memory. Memory was fickle. Intangible. Impermanent.

Today as she gathered her treasures for another viewing, this Polaroid picture caught her attention. There was a caption- 'Husband and Daughter’. Forgetfulness had its advantages. It didn't make you wistful of the past. Had she looked at the picture this morning too, or the day before? She wasn't sure.

A middle-aged man and a young girl walked in then. They stopped short at the albums strewn around her. 
“Yeah, that's us,” the man spoke looking at the photo in her hand. 
And she smiled.

L…

KDramas on School Lives

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Perhaps I am missing school, my own carefree days of yore. As much as I say that they were carefree days, I just know that they were not. We struggled for marks, toiled hard for securing a good rank and position in the class, hated our parents for comparing us with our classmates, and sighed inaudibly when the tuitions and extra classes coincided our play hours.


I liked studying. I would study the textbooks, go through the class notes and also solve the test papers bought specifically for 10th board exams. But then I was very insecure too, had a huge inferiority complex, and a painful introversion as big as a mountain. I was good at studying. No, let me rephrase it. I was only good at studying. I didn’t do well in sports or quiz competitions or debates. I had no interest in leadership. I feared being the center of attention. But as far as marks were concerned, I knew I would get decent figures if I put in more number of hours.


School is never easy for anyone. Neither the weaker studen…

My Last Foster Mom: A Novella

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Book Blurb:
"Cynthia is a young widow struggling to raise her six-year-old daughter. Mathilde, an eccentric and short-tempered old woman, tries her best to keep people away. Despite their differences, Cynthia's circumstances draw them together.
Will Mathilde turn her back on Cynthia? Will these women learn the true meaning of a family?"


The book starts with Cynthia Dawson trying to make ends meet for herself and her daughter, Jeanne as they are left alone to fend for themselves after her husband passed away a few months back. But being the wife of a rather violent war veteran was nothing better than the life of a widow. He hit her and Jeanne whenever he felt like it and hung himself one fine day in the garage.

Charming moments between the mother and the daughter set pace for a heartwarming read. Cynthia has been an orphan living with several foster parents since childhood. And as the title suggests, the story revolves around Cynthia’s last foster mother.

A fateful meet with …

A Reddish Orange Crown #ThursdayTreeLove

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I have been waiting to post a picture of a tree and take part in this linky since forever. Most often than not I would forget clicking a pic when I come across one, and sometimes the photos came hazy and blurred. I am mildly satisfied with this one now. If you have been to Bhubaneswar in summer, you must be very acquainted with these pictures. You might also be having one right in front of your balcony, if you happen to live here.


The linky can be found here.

When Your Bestie is Getting Married

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I have long tried to complete writing this, but either I got too emotional or plain lazy. But today I have decided to sit down and finish this. Watching the movie 'Veere Di Wedding' last weekend brought this piece to the fore. It was almost lost in the pile of blogging drafts. I think my drafts would win over the published posts any day now, if this continues! Well, all of that later. Let's talk about what you've got to do when your Veere is getting hitched.


Last year a dear school friend of mine got married. She was the first among my closest friends to tie the knot. Again this year another childhood friend got happily married, as yet another bestie in town shocked us with her upcoming engagement news. So these were surely tumultuous times heavy on emotions and other things, for us buddies. And here I present you tons of wisdom from my experience of handling my girls on their big day! Read along.




She is energetic and ecstatic but also sensitive and hysteric.

She might be…

We Would Never Know

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“What was it like to lose him?" Asked Sorrow.  There was a long pause before I responded:
It was like hearing every goodbye ever said tome—said all at once.” ― Lang LeavLove & Misadventure
When the intense curiosity to know you and your thoughts subsided, a strange calm descended upon me. You stare at the whiteboard long after you are done with noting down the lectures and derivations. And I do the same, very much aware of your presence just two hands away from me. I feel my breath, taking a rhythm of its own as if it were trying to synchronize with yours. I don’t bother the awry puzzle that my heartbeat has become. Maybe this is when things fall into place.


How is it that we come across a person, knowing nothing about their story, but end up feeling so close that separation seems cruel, in just a matter of few days of shared space, and nothing else. How is it that we just know whom we can never forget how much ever we try, just through shared silences and non-verbal gestures. …

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