A Lost Friend

Dear Best Friend, 

I don’t know why you left so suddenly. I still don’t know what went so wrong that we do not talk to each other anymore. I wish I could return to the moment and change it so that we no longer called ourselves not friends anymore. But then I also don’t remember when we became such best friends. I told you my darkest fears, my treasured secrets, opened up about all my weaknesses; you knew them all too well and you promised to keep me company through all of those. You promised to stand and stay beside me through thick and thin. But then if I knew your intentions, if only I knew you were just another fair weather person maybe I could have safeguarded my naive little heart. You left and you took a portion of that stupid heart with you. I call you up at times hoping and wondering if you would ever tell me you wished things would go back to as they were before, hoping just to hear that you miss me and our times together. I hope you would just waltz back into my life and stay there forever like the promises you made. And you know exactly how to be back too for I told you the way in. But if wishes were to come true maybe we would not have met and left in the first place. I hope you do not remember your way in, for I know you will come and stay and make a home and leave again. If only you would fight to stay, instead of fighting your way out!

I hope the new friend you make you do not call them your best friend until you know you are there to stay for a forever and not leave them high and dry when they need you the most only because they say or do things that do not tune up to your whims. I hope you do not feel the pain of leaving for it cuts deeper than that of any sword in the world. I hope you do not go through what I went through to forget all that was said in all merry times. I hope it has been easier for you to walk out rather than stay. 

PS: In memory of someone once considered as the dearest and bestest. Friends argue, friends disagree, friends fight; but friends do not leave!


Treacherous Thoughts

Does it always take a stolen glance, 
To form a misinterpreted thought?

Or does it always have to be an intellectual phase,
To perceive a misconception?
Hanging on by the filaments of poor judgement;
Hold on you silly scared little heart,
For there is no mercy for a fallen hero in love. 

I see a light in your voice,
I form a dream in your words,
I concieve a future in your thoughts,
But perhaps it is all a fragment of my imagination;

Only to be shattered like a thousand pieces of an ever brittle mirror!
Damaged, irrepairable-are these the only words,

That appear to come from depths all so loud? 

Life of some misconstrued lies,
Or some some straight faced hard truths!

Ever wonder which is more conniving or deceiving!
To be loved or to be caught up in the idea of being loved,
Or to be woken up in a nightmare of only lust!
And the irony of such treacherous thoughts,
More resolute and evident with the imminent victim in plain sight!

The Picture

I peeked into your picture today,
A once which I said was not enough;
Even that half an eye seemed more than filling
For what the lonely long nights beheld;
There was nothing more to it,
Than perhaps just the side of a handsome face,
But today thus I suffice
And, or for all the times to come.

As I glanced through that picture,
Memories raced back, eyes flooded;
And the only thought that seemed to hold strength
Through the truffle of emotions was,
‘Whose are you going to be?
Rather than who are you going to hold onto!’
Strange, for all I ever dreamed was for an ‘us’
And never a person more.

I see a change in my thoughts,
Or perhaps just a coping mechanism;
To the harsh reality of unalterable truth!
Am I getting selfless about you?
The helpless heart still feels heavy,
With just your thoughts oozing out;
Never a dime against what we never wished for together;
Thy gods are my witness to it all!

But tonight nothing mattered momentarily,
Than that pang of jealousy for the lucky one;
To touch that curled up hair, to hold those standout ears,
To caress that crooked smile, to kiss that evil smirk,
To peek into that innocent eyes;
As you laid back carefree in yonder loving arms.
But if dreams were ever to come true;
You would be mine and I would yours forever through!

P.S. In a trance. From a friend. For a friend. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Freedom of the Mind!

“The most important kind of freedom is to be what you are!” – Jim Morrison

It is strange how on the eve of a national holiday always I find the strength to pour my heart out or maybe that is just my way of screaming out my independence or the need for it or maybe I am just trying to take some solace in a creative activity. Nicker-nackers, as I call them or maybe as generally called a recollection for hope and at times a confidence boost for the self loathing souls. The human heart is a funny thing; sometimes too silly or too obstinate and full of pride and yes it has a soft weak side too and the most dangerous it gets when it falls in love. What not it does or makes its owner do just to get a little attention from the object of its affection! The real misery starts when it gets a dire ill fated rejection from the very object it cares about. The ruthless hatred that is borne at such fate boils the heart out and might even put the devil to shame. And what not to soothe an ailing little heart and free it of its miseries; everything obviously justified easing the little wretched heart which has fallen into its self dug graves. I wondered often as to what emotions or actions flow through in the time period from when the heart is broken to the moment for the rise of the hatred; the border-line of the two mutually independent opposite feelings and what does happen if the hatred does not simmer down; is it ever possible to be free of such guilt and anger; never knowing the answer lies in self within and not wandering around. But of course such knowledge does not come from years of experience rather in a moment of truth, a glance back into the ghosts of the past. Impulsive and fragile as a young heart might be eagerly falls in love with the shining friendly smile often not knowing the consequences that might befall almost always against the good judgement of the noble brain. Falling in love perhaps is like floating on clouds, the weightlessness of everything and the ease with which two souls tango through the world around. But then fairytales are not for the present generation to live. Not everything falls in place when you behead the dragon, free the princess or kill the evil witch. Stupid and silly for a person to wear their heart on the sleeves when the world seems to be full of heartless mad kings and queens. And in this century, the evil generally lives through the eyes of the very object of your affection. The very soul you tried to seek your solace in is the one which is ever ready to bring your downfall and hiss and bite at you like the most poisonous rattle snake. Masquerade! And maybe when this realisation dawns on the heart it gets infuriated and then starts the period of hatred.

“Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned”- William Congreve

A heart full of rage is so dark that it might even put the black diamonds to shame! So why not put up an appearance, a disguise to betray the peeking glaring eyes for there hardly is anything else to do. And thus enters the various boosting activities or maybe even called the self distracting actions. And on such times I create my own collage of creativities. So I made a list of things to do and topping the chart was food. Comfort food seemingly not only comforts the ailing heart but also refreshes the taste buds. I cooked and baked and ate till I was sure I looked like a floating balloon; why should the heart float alone-reason justified! Oh how I wish I had just noted down the recipes of the amazing dishes I made and of course the appreciation I got from my delighted mother who did find it quite strange for her daughter to have lost her way into the kitchen suddenly perhaps! But then imagine the disappointment when I measured my weight and found to have lost a few pounds instead of gaining! The heart was torn again; the food was supposed to make the body bulge and not skimp it so then cooking and even eating cut off the list. Next I shifted to paintings. Yes I was happy to be reunited with this old flame. Not much of a painter but I was satisfied. After a while even this wore off or maybe not, I still have my paint and brushes and colours but just been taking a break out of it; vacationing. I shifted focus to the next item on the to-do list and “oh my” this perhaps has the most calming down experience ever. I bought three pairs of heels and two pairs of flats, five tops, two dresses, two saris, two kurtas, a small makeover, one watch, a few other tiny daily accessories and two very ugly bags which thankfully I returned back and hopefully will get refunded. But then how much of the appearance or the act is just enough? I now have a restraining order to stay away from the kitchen or clean up the mess I make after the various though yummy but experimental dishes, I have a huge credit to repay for all the unplanned and also unwanted expenditure and for that I cannot shop for the next two months at the least and the colours well most of them dried off from the long vacation I took off it. Not knowing the limit is perhaps the most dangerous of all and maybe that puts us in another deep ditch of shits. Over excessive of every little thing that my petty heart craved for! And it was then that a realisation dawned upon. I did everything to make up for some lost solace in something or somebody else in return which was actually doing no good or benefit. A few shed tears also seemed a waste of preciousness. My parents raised me a princess; only daughter and pampered a lot. It isn’t like not faced with tough times; there were and very much of it but then I was raised as protected and all away from harms ways under the protection of their shield of love. And shedding a few tears for the silliness of the heart seemed on my part all wrong and unjustified to my parents and maybe that very realisation gave me a certain height of freedom. I realised it was never worth to pursue a thing which failed to put a smile on my parents’ princess and that exactly was the independence the heart needed. And strange as it might be the head hit the realisation exactly at midnight and reading aloud a certain excerpt.

“At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom. A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new, when an age ends, and when the soul of a nation, long suppressed, finds utterance. It is fitting that at this solemn moment we take the pledge of dedication to the service of India and her people and to the still larger cause of humanity.” – Pt. Jawaharlal Nehru, first Prime Minister of a free independent India.

February..here you are!!!

It’s February-the onset of spring and the month of love. How do you stay away from the object of your affection with Valentine’s day just around the corner! Trees get new leaves, flowers bloom, love stories some flourish and some in the making. Ain’t that some mushy mushy cute! And when you talk about love there’s always some happy and some sad. With love stories comes hush hush tonnes, heart throbbings and heart breaks, butterflies fly unnecessarily making your stomach churn inside out. Shakespeare did say that the course of true love never did run smooth. It has obstacles in different forms and does come in different packages, sometimes in the form of parents interfering and sometimes with your best friends intervening. But again they say love conquers all but may be love never was meant to be in the 21st century where lies, betrayals, scandals maximise and sound more romantic than frivolent humble stories where plots doesn’t just involve two but at the least three or four trifling souls. And when you try to act as a mediator you have secrets, some baked with icing on top to be gone gaga over and some half cooked better to be left in the oven to be thrown away with left overs. Strangely enough the half baked stories turn out to be the juiciest gossip in town. And with you in the midst makes you the ring master, something which should be kept safe and taken to the grave with you and you only. But what if the mediator has a story of her own to tell, who should she confide in and where she finds her solution; while the rest are left to guess what it could be when only a few lucky ones only have cues to it. Love can be enigmatic, charming, ambiguous and also dangerous and only depends on how far you are ready to put up an angelic show.

♪♪ Got a secret Can you keep it? Swear this one you’ll save Better lock it, in your pocket Taking this one to the grave If I show you then I know you Won’t tell what I said Cause two can keep a secret If one of them is dead ♪♪

Three words, eight letters, the most dangerous of all; made some lives and ruined some others. Love is life and life is full of secrets. So are you in love today? Can I help you? I promise your secrets are safe with me. Unless its just yours only! You are lucky am on my best behaviour thou.

To earn as much as they can possibly

There are three things in life we do alone–we are born, we die and if we are in our mid twenties or approaching it and not happy with your present job and are looking for a better job headed for the best in life we appear for the IIMs/IITs and PSUs as we call them, and take the C.A.T./G.A.T.E. And while such exams are supposed to measure the best traits and knowledge gathered during our bachelor degrees, preparing for these inevitably brings out the worst. Whatever/ whichever we decide to go with is totally irrelevant as long as the end result is the same–high paying job, high street shopping, fine dining and good status. Whosoever did say money doesn’t bring happiness didn’t know where and how to throw it all.

♪♪ We live in a greedy little world

       that teaches every little boy and girl
       To earn as much as they can possibly
       then turn around and spend it foolishly
       We’ve created us a credit card mess
       We pend the money that we don’t possess
       Our religion is to go and throw it all
       So it’s shopping every Sunday at the mall
       All we ever want is more
       A lot more than we had before
       So take me to the nearest store
       Can you hear it ring
       It makes you wanna sing
       It’s such a beautiful thing–Ka-Ching!
       Lots of diamond rings
       The happiness it brings
       You’ll live like a king
With lots of money and things ♪♪

–Ka Ching! Shania Twain

#Daily Prompt

Daily Prompt: Victory

The phone keeps on ringing non-stop.
“God people get a life!”  I rant and shout out, “Dad please get the phone. My hands are deep in the dough.”
Generally, I am assumptively the perfect daughter, though the single one in the house, totally not pampered or I would like to think of myself, never ordering around, so my father who was reading a newspaper in the next room happily obliges to receive the call.
“Hello. No, this is her father here. Yes. Oh. Ok. Please hold on while I get her on the phone.”  My father talks over the phone and calls out for me, “This is for you dear.”  He carries the cordless around and holds it near my ears and says “It’s someone from the Mayor’s office.”
“Ughh!” my utter disappointment. “I am busy and the people around have ample time to give strangers call from strange offices!” I think. “Hello. Yes this is her. Oh! Ok. Thank you. Yes of course. Sure. Please send the invitations. Yes we will be there. Ok I will definitely be ready with the speech. Thank you. It was a pleasure.”
With all the ramblings with a few pauses, my father stands beside me and watches my face turn from regret to confusion to a smile to a blushed crimson and finally after the call ends, he enquires “So?”
“I am getting an award. Dad it’s my day. My THE DAY. I got it. I really did make it.” I happily reiteriate the entire conversation. I tell him it was a co-ordinator at the Mayor’s office and the award giving out ceremony is this Friday at the town District Library at five in the evening and that we will get an invitation card and that all our friends and family would get the invitation too.
“Oh my sweet little girl!” my father happily cries out. “Congratulations, you deserve it.”
My father rushes out of the room towards my mother in the garden to share the good news of their proud daughter. As for me, in my over bound happiness, start forming images of the day and playing my acceptance speech in my head. I picture myself wearing the bold mustard yellow Dhakai Jamdani sari, with the blue and green shankha patterns embroidered, which I pair up with my grandmother’s beautiful pearl neckpiece with the dangling charm resting over the green border of the sari. My name being called upon, I walk up to the stage to receive the award while my friends and family keep cheering my name aloud. I take the microphone in my hand with the smiling crowd below and start speaking. “Oh my glorious days finally! I am happy. I am glad. I am honoured. And I cry, not tears of sadness but of joy. A series of emotions overwhelm me and I make myself realise that it is finally happening to me. I thank Thy Lord for marking this destiny for me, my parents for being my constant support, my friends for encouraging me and most of all the society for…” where-in mid way through the speech I hear a shrill screech and the audience infront start to dissolve as solid colour in water and the vision seems to blur out and my mother’s voice starts becoming prominent in the backdrop of someone standing over.
“Wake up or you will be late for office,” I suddenly realise my mother shouting out at my comfortable closed eyed position as if I were lying down somewhere.
I open my overtly slept-in eyes and try figuring out reality. “I was dreaming. Again!” I think aloud. My mother pushes the window curtains aside and morning sun totally glazes at my face with a smirk, “Wake up late riser.” I take a look at the bedside clock and thump it to shut the alarm and shout out, “Oh my God! It’s past 9:30.”
“Now get of bed, lazy girl. Freshen up soon, am laying out the breakfast.” My mother smiles at my dreamy eyes and says, “My dear you dream a lot. Work as hard on them and success will definitely be yours.”
“Yes mom. I am up and awake. Will be at the table soon,” I manage and realise the dream really was a good one.
“Me and my drama obsessed life. Even dreams couldn’t be under rated here.” I think and smile.

#Daily Prompt

Daily Prompt: Walk


These are my favourite pair of shoes. Yes they are somewhat old as in old during my freedom days three years back. My country had been colonized by the British for nearly around two hundred years and yes its been over six decades we have gotten our independence but not individually of course; my parents though born post independence era do not grasp the concept of it entirely. If Hitler were alive and known them, he literally would have done his best to adopt them. I mean no insults or sarcastic ungrateful remarks to my parents, they raised me good and total right but just and only neglecting the concept of individual independence. It was only three years before when I was first allowed to leave home and all thanks to my job in a different city. But no not total independence. I was accompanied by both my parents and they stayed for over a week and also had my return tickets booked along with theirs. And they made sure my local guardian dropped by my office or hostel every alternate days to check, probably they were afraid of me being taken over by some alien from outer space! Well then some twisted luck or fate within four months I got transferred to a different city where my parents couldn’t afford to find a local supervisor. Thankful for that somehow though. Well then coming back to my favourite pair of shoes, I bought these for my first birthday away from home. That and a LBD. My first LBD for life and also my first heels in years. In years as because some concept my dad had as in heels have a negative effect on your spinal cord and also his daughter might and actually definitely trip and twist her ankles and whatever else bad or worst he could conjure upon in his over protective mind. My early adolescent years were totally spent with flats; private school-boring monotonous black shoes and then after that all flat sandals, titos throughout college. I had to wear flats for parties and occassions even; obvious they a shade prettier than the everyday ones but still those never gave the curves and sensousness as those by heels. So for obvious reasons I was pretty happy about my pair of black heels. And where did these take me; well everywhere special-my first birthday party out of my parents home, my first night club and also my first real date ever(though am no longer with that guy but then memories are always to be cherished). But for now am again back at my parents home. No am not jobless but coincidentally to my parents unbound happiness, my present job posting is in my state and their favourite town; so goodbye pretty heels and hello flats. But I do have hopes and total plans of moving out pretty soon and then replacing the entire shoe box with pretty high heels(#fingers crossed).

#Daily Prompt

The New York Times: Viral

Good Morning New Yorkers, this is your editor here and it’s time to feature a new talented blogger as promised on our entertainment home page every fourth Friday of the month. And our this month’s pick is Often Me from WordPress. The blogger has forwarded an extract from her upcoming novel “Friends, Love and Betrayals” to be showcased here. Congratulations Often Me, this is your lucky space today.


Coffee Love

Sid take your goddamn phone. It just won’t stop buzzing. She has been calling for the last half an hour. Talk to her man,” cried out Anshuman.

Siddharth or as his friends call him Sid was playing badminton at the recreational centre when his phone kept ringing incessantly. It was a tiresome day at class and after such a long day, an hour or two at the RC refreshed him for the long night of pending assignments he had to get done.


“Hey Sid, why the hell do you keep a phone if you ain’t gonna receive calls?”

“Listen am in the middle of a match.”

“Come on phones are meant to receive, call, text-basic features. Duh!!”

“Yea but listen…”

“No you listen I suddenly have a coffee craving and the canteen sucks. Shirin’s out to visit her cousin and everybody else is busy doing I dunno what. So you are comin with me.”

“But I got…”

“No buts. Half an hour. Wait for me at the college gate. 6 sharp.”

And the line got disconnected. Sid stood there open mouthed totally numb about what just happened, not just once but every time he talked to Nina. She seemed to have an extreme over bearing power on him he failed to revolt against. At times like today he totally cursed himself for not being able to dodge her.

Refra Power, a subsidy of the renowned Refra Group, recruited hundred candidates from all over the country with different back grounds and was sent for their classroom training at a premier institute wherein the ten friends made their debut. Whoever said you don’t make friends at work must never have met this group. It wasn’t even two months into their joining the company and like some adolescence cronies they became close knit as ever sharing every part of their lives. They were ten best friends-two girls and eight boys-Shirin, Nina, Sid, Anshuman, Ravi, Gaurav, Ron, Pritam, Sushil(Jindal) and Sushil(Chatterjee).

Sid often followed Nina around like a plush pup. He got laughed at for his loss of self control but he didn’t mind. He knew Nina was a good friend. She would have perhaps done the same for him or so he liked to think. What was incomprehensible for Sid was that he couldn’t say “no” to Nina’s requests; craziness as others depicted those to be. Just like today, like every other day, he liked to think she had only asked him and nobody else. Personally. He left the game, went to his room, quickly showered and hurriedly went through the mess of clothes on the floor to dig out a clean t-shirt.

Dada aka Sushil Chatterjee was the Kumbhkaran (the Indian mythological character who could continuously sleep for six months at a stretch and stay awake eating for the rest six months) in the group. He could sleep like anything and through anything. He was named Dada for two reasons- he was a bengali and his name same as a famous cricketer, Bengali again, and nick named the same. Just post break up with his girlfriend of four years, the only thing Dada kept busy with were sleeping all day long even missing classes and when awake, watching replays of old movies and series and videos on his laptop.

Sid’s rustlings through the small three-sitter dorm room woke Dada up.

“Where to dude? Were you not supposed to complete those assignments? I have to copy yours.”

“Yeah man I am yet to get started on them.”

“Then  where are you going? Sit down at the desk and lets get your brains working.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be long. I just have some important stuff to take care of. Will be back soon.”

“Fine. My head’s heavy with all the sleep. I need some food in my system. Am coming with you.”

Sid alarmingly jumps back at him shouting. “No! Am going out of campus.  You go to the canteen. Get a cup of tea or something. You will be fine there.”

Dada gives a skeptical look. “Are you going with someone?”

Sid timidly replies “Nina.”

Dada smirks. “Again! Carry on dude. I wouldn’t wanna be caught in the middle of two lovebirds.” And winks.

Sid protests, “It’s not a date or something but she just asked me to come along. You know how she has these sudden cravings and even Shirin’s not there to accompany her today.”

Dada breaks into a wide grin. “Dude don’t justify yourself and whoever even mentioned anything about a date. Well I suddenly lost the appetite to go out. Gonna watch the Big Bang Theory and drool over Penny. Come back soon lover boy.”

The total shy Sid turns red. He slips out of the room somehow managing a “Bye.”


“Am a girl. I am supposed to be fashionably late” argues Nina.

“Yes of course but you were the one about the sharp 6” Sid protests.

“And it’s only 6:20. What’s the rush?”

Nina was wearing a red tank top and paired it up with black skinny denims. Her eyes seemed to be dancing around just to show off an air of carelessness and sovereignty.

“She probably isn’t beautiful but something about her is charmingly attracting. If anybody could talk through eyes, they probably must have been tutored by her,” Sid thought to himself.

Sid chuckles and hesitantly manages a “Nothing.”

Nina catches the tense air and she knows something is different about her friend. “Hey what happened? Come on tell me. Please” she insists.

Sid couldn’t manage the worried brow on her face and he lets out, “The paper on the boiler-turbine theory, well that’s due tomorrow and I haven’t started it as of yet.”

“What? Why? I mean why didn’t you tell me earlier? We could have gone some other time. Oh God how can you be so stupid!”

Sid tries protesting but gives up mid way. He knows she would keep her rants on and wouldn’t listen to anything he has to say.

Nina continues, “I have my paper ready. Let’s go back and I will help you change parts of the paper so that they don’t look copied from.”

“No need. We boys always copy; everybody knows that. Let’s get something to eat and then I can come back and take your paper.”

“Oh are you hungry? Did you skip lunch again?”

“Yea I kind of slept off the entire lunch period.”

Nina gets furious. “How can you guys be so childish? Everything has to be fed to you with a spoon. Gawd!”

The hype she creates when she gets worried for such simple things always amuses Sid. He gives an easy smile, “Come on you don’t wanna starve me or do you? Let’s go have something.”

“Yes please hurry. I just can’t believe the company got stuck with such children. However did you get the job!”

“How about CCD?”

Nina lights up, “Awesome. Coffee and grilled sandwiches. Love it. Let’s go.”

“From worried to anger to hatred to laughter probably nobody changes emotions that fast,” Sid silently thinks and chuckles. Tonight he seems quite pleased with himself for coming up with the place.

The nearest CCD outlet was just fifteen minutes walk from the institute gate. It was a cold November evening and they walked towards the café, Nina as usual relentlessly talking and Sid silently listening hanging over at each word as she uttered.

The café was quite crowded at this time of the evening and they couldn’t manage a table. But Nina was adamant at being at CCD. So they waited for around half an hour before they got a table and that too on the porch. But she was satisfied and this obvious for Sid too. They ordered and until the food arrived Nina chattered and when the food arrived she continued still. Sid didn’t mind. It seemed like that’s the best evening he could conjure up in the recent past days. He was happy to be there with her. Alone.

Nina was presently talking about her break up with Vikas, the handsome dude or so as the rest of the ladies clan in the company has been referring to and the guy whom all of the guys thought to be a douche box. Nina had been shooting questions all throughout the conversation and like all times not even pausing to get an answer for them while Sid simply meekly stared at her.

“Do you know he said he liked my eyes? He says my eyes sparkle? Do you really think they do? Is my hair dull or shiny? Do you think I should wear more perfume? He says I talk too much. But then he says he loves the way I talk.” And so it continues.

A pause and Sid manages to say, “You are better off without him. You deserve better.”

Nina lights up at that but then sinks saying, “I really liked him.”

Sid manages a flirty remark, “Did you know you have a dimple on your left cheek.”

“What!” the somewhat embarrassed Nina screams excitedly. “Are you sure? Hope it doesn’t make me look cranky. Anyways that’s enough about me. Tell me about your crush out here.”

Before Sid manages a reply, Nina lets out again, “Hey I saw you talking to that dork girl Sheila. She plays badminton right?”

Embarassed Sid somewhat manages to say, “Yes she does come to the court at times.”

With a flutter of hands in the air Nina starts apologizing, “Oh my God! I am so sorry. You must have been playing or waiting for her when I called. Why didn’t you tell me? Dude you need to speak up a little more.”

“Hey am not into her. I just talked to her that one very instant,” Sid protested.

Nina chuckles and rolls her eyes off. “Man you need to be way more extrovert than that. It’s nothing wrong to like that chick. Come on now. I’ll set you both up.”

“What now you gonna play the cupid?”

“Hey don’t underestimate my talents. Am very good at matchmaking,” Nina shines.

“Yes of course. You were Nina the drama queen and now Nina the cupid,” Sid manages nervously about his destiny to be marred by the sweet but total childish girl.

With a glowing victorious smile, Nina descends onto other topics about her past, her college and any endless thing not discussed earlier.

She a Bengali girl, very dominant along with being talkative and he a Telugu boy and actually quite the opposite in nature to her. She could keep chattering on non stop, talking relentlessly on anything and everything and at most times it did make little or no sense but he loved to hear her out. The excitement in her voice, the little sounds she would make when she talked about some far off distant lands, the soft laughter she would give on the funny thing she herself might have uttered or the sheer disappointment when she thought something didn’t turn out as she expected it to be. In all this the constant thing that made everything wonderful around her was the soft twinkle in her eyes, the way it would lit up on a happy note and the way the lights would dance about when her conversation got to the sheer point of excitement and the way his heart ached when the twinkle dimmed on a sad note. At times he got so engrossed with the smile and the eyes that he actually forgot to be a part of the conversation and that crossed her to heights. He liked her but couldn’t risk telling her. They were the best of friends and he was afraid building a relationship on that as that might actually ruin the friendship. He was afraid to lose her. Ever!


#Daily Prompt: Viral

The Liebster Award!!

My first blogger award nomination and all thanks to the kind lady of romance, Christina Cole. It was so nice of you to appreciate and nominate my blog. I am super excited and feel greatly honoured. It is seemingly a basic human trait to be recognized, be known, wanted and appreciated.

Liebster-Blog-Award-PostBasically, the Liebster Award is a “favorite blog award”, as Liebster is the German word for favorite, beloved, or dearest. It is meant for smaller blogs with less than two hundred followers to help expose them to the world and help them discover other new and upcoming bloggers. 

In order to formally accept this award, the nominee must do several things

  1. Link back and recognize the blogger who nominated me.
  2. Answer ten questions given to me by Christina.
  3. Nominate ten other bloggers for the award.
  4. Create ten questions for my nominees to answer.
  5. Notify my nominees.

 Well the first task I have completed. Christina Cole is a romantic writer and you can visit her blog at Andante Cantabile and also read her short stories in Love Notes by Christina Cole.

 Next to answer the ten questions I have been posed with from my nominator:

 1) What book has most influenced you in your life?

Well I am mostly a fiction reader and also a hopeless romantic along with a thrill for suspense and crime plots. And fictions don’t seem to adorn a personal influence. But then come to think about it if a book that really seemed to influence the way I grew up or relate to is EMMA by Jane Austen. Just like the protagonist of the novel I was perhaps a spoilt brat (during my teenage years) although am leveling up best to be a Jane Eyre now. I am kind of headstrong and self-satisfied which I intend to tag along with for the future-me and I love to know everything about everybody around me and try my best to help them out although that has often been termed as meddle-some in the past but also have been thanked a few many times by some.

2) If you could change one thing in your life, what would it be?

If I could change a thing about my life, that would be to just a portion of my past where due to my too hot a temper lost a few good friends and friendships in the making.

3) What is your favorite holiday and why?

My favourite holiday is Durga Puja. It is the most significant socio-cultural event in Bengali Hindu society celebrated around the fall season four days long which epitomizes the victory of Good over Evil. 

4) Where would you most like to travel?

New Delhi. Haven’t travelled much but have put up in Delhi for a year and just love the city and its people.

5) Does your car have a name? If so, what is it?

No. I don’t own a car at present but I am hoping to very soon and then I think I shall name it Bumpy signifying the very large number of pot holes in the streets where I live right now.

6) Favorite pet?

No great pet lover. Pets are animals and are better in the wild and if to be brought in human contact then only at the zoo and at home only as stuffed toys.

7) What five words would your friends use to describe you?

Talkative, Understanding, Trustworthy, Dominating, Stubborn.

8) What’s your favorite childhood memory?

Many actually. To mention one would be the time when I first met my first best friends “M” and “N”, my first BFFs. First day in kindergarten and all strange new faces, some crying and yelling, and some total silent with the teacher trying her best to calm everybody around when these two bold girls walk up to me and say that I needn’t worry or feel lonely for they are there now and always. That was the best thing that happened. And twenty four years from then, they are still here, may be a distant few hundred miles due to our varied job profiles but total close to the heart.

9) What was the last show you watched on television? 

The Vampire Diaries. Kind of total gaga over the Salvatore Brothers and hopelessly wishing to grow the vampire fangs.

10) Do you believe in ghosts?

Hell no!! Total past that childish time frame but yes watching spooky movies do give me goose bumps and the ever non rational creeps.

I hope Christina I have done justice to your questions.

Moving on to the next segment, I need to nominate ten other newbie bloggers for the award. And my choices are:

  1.  Being Nenne
  2. Godrick Gnomish
  3. Embroid Yourself
  4. Romance Novels
  5. The Marmot in My head
  6. Ruminations from an Introvert
  7. Eat Read Glam
  8. Cinnwriterblog
  9. Life & Times
  10. Improving Slowly

 Now nominees here are your ten questions:

  1. What’s the meaning behind the name of your blog?
  2. What is one thing a lot of people don’t know about you? 
  3. What five words do you think your closest friends would use to describe you?
  4. If you were a superhero, who would you be? 
  5. If you could go back to any time period, what would it be?
  6. If you could live in any country other than your own, where would you choose and why?
  7. What is one non-technological item that you could NOT live without?
  8. If you could shift into any animal, what one would you try first?
  9. If you were to be acting in a Disney movie which would it be and why?
  10. You can have a half-hour conversation with any fictional character. Who do you choose?

 The final part, off to the chosen nominees to inform them about it. They will then have to do all the steps I did and then the Liebster Award will officially be theirs.