Just this Once...

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I remember, those
Beautiful summer days,
When I first saw you
Walking down my lane.

That pretty yellow
Summer’s dress and the
Dainty umbrella…
A few loose strands of
Hair, adorning your
Face.

You saw me and me; you.
We smiled.
I hoped to go for a walk,
Just for that one time with
You. We did.

I remember, those
Walks through the
Green pastures, by the sea
Your hand in mine and
A few loose strands of
Hair, adorning your
face.

Then came the winter,
But you did not come.
Many many summers
Have gone past by now…
I have waited and still
Wait for you.

I remember, that
Pretty yellow summer’s
Dress and your hand in mine…

Wish, yes how I wish
That just this once,
You come by again
Walking down my lane
In that yellow dress and
A few strands of loose
Hair, adorning your face….

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I have lusted after her for as long as I can remember. People speak of true love, smitten at first sight but for me, it was every bit lust. My desires, my dreams, my feelings… she drives me wild with frenzy. In fact, as soon as I realize, she is going to arrive, I feel my body stiffening. There are things I feel about her I cannot pen down; no, not because of its ‘adult’ nature but because I don’t know how to describe how I feel about her.
She is like no one else – born perfect as she is. Her curves, the buttery texture of her skin, her complexion! My days and nights are filled with her thoughts. I know if I could have my way with her, I could lose my mind. Whenever she is close or in the same room as I, I feel a strange tingling rush through me. Its like she knows she has that effect on me. Her scent, sweet, subtle and ripe like her. If I could make her mine, I’d run my fingers all over her, memorizing her body – every dip, swell and arch.
I do lust after her, but I feel she has the…
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Wordless Wednesday #13: Caption this picture

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I remember writing an inland letter on behalf of my grandma. She was writing to her brother in Dehradun. This was before email or mobile phones so obviously, letters were how news of things was exchanged. It was a tedious process. The inland letter had four sides which she made up fill up quickly. As a parting message, she wanted me to mention her failing health (false news). I brusquely told her no. I believe an argument followed and she won it.
But what was more fun was the fact that we would walk up to the nearest post box, the red, cylindrical metal box, propped up on every second street then, and then quickly post it via the slit. Then began the wait – the postman would pick up the post real soon and the letters, postcards etc. would soon reach their destination. Yes, there was hope.
The red post box of my childhood and yours is fast disappearing. We have a lot to say but nothing to write to. We chat, we call, and we talk. We don’t write to each other anymore. Instant gratific…
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Ladies Coupe by Anita Nair, a book review

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Meet Akhila: forty-five and single, an income-tax clerk, and a woman who has never been allowed to live her own life - always the daughter, the sister, the aunt, the provider - until the day she gets herself a one-way ticket to the seaside town of Kanyakumari. In the intimate atmosphere of the all-women sleeping car - the 'Ladies Coupe' - Akhila asks the five women the question that has been haunting her all her adult life: can a woman stay single and be happy, or does she need a man to feel complete?
This wonderfully atmospheric, deliciously warm novel takes the reader into the heart of women's lives in contemporary India, revealing how the dilemmas that women face in their relationships with husbands, mothers, friends, employers, and children are the same world over. 
It is difficult to be born as a woman. From day one, she is burdened with expectations. No, I am not talking about Indian women only but worldwide. There are many a moniker bestowed upon women – she is a dau…
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Wordless Wednesday #12: Caption this picture

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In the wake of Plastic ban in Maharashtra, thanks to a professional assignment, I met Afroz Shah. His name is synonymous with the largest beach clean up activity in the world. A lawyer by profession, Afroz is now a United Nations Champion of the Earth Volunteer. Over the last three years, he, along with scores of volunteers, students and local residents, he led the clean up and restoration of the Versova beach.
Prior to this, the beach like any other in Mumbai was filthy. It was a dump and seemed beyond repair. My takeaway from meeting him was how we need to think on an individual, personal level of how we can help the environment. We cannot create physical waste and pollution, and then blame the government. I hope to I can try to curb some waste at my end. This is my goal for the year. What is yours?
See the beach? Its gorgeous, blue and looks inviting! In fact, the Oliver Ridley turtles were spotted for the very first time in Mumbai at this beach. Apparently, the turtles think of…
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What are we becoming?

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Today, I had a conversation with a colleague and the video on Harayana’s rape culture or rather what the natives of the state thought of rape became a point of discussion. My exact words were – what are we becoming? How can we think that rape is entirely a girl’s fault? Why is it accepted? His answer was simple – this is what the natives have seen, this is how they think, and hence, this is what happens. WHAT? Yes, apparently, the treatment women, what men see at home, they follow. Women follow the same as they look at their mothers, sisters, aunts, friends, etc. being treated shabbily and hence, it becomes an accepted norm.
He further added that the natives never harm their own women. Apparently, if they damage their own women, they will be beaten up or shot. The problem arises when they come across different cultures. The main issue though is the male-female ratio that is the lowest in Haryana. Poor women from remote parts of the country are bought and sold here, married off to mor…
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