Alone on the top

I climb the stairs one by one
Losing my people as I come
Closer to the top
Don’t know what have I become
Is it alright?

At night I look out of my window to see
A peaceful street ever-so-lonely
Much less than my life I bet
Tricked by dreams and debts.

The streetlight suddenly shimmers and I look again outside
A few people just passed by, out of my sight
It’s about to rain and before the night starts getting wet
I quickly grab my phone and switch on the internet.

I position the camera to capture the sky
But since too tired and sick of posting stuff online
So I just capture it and print it and write this story on it’s behind

That when I leave it and someone gets it,
They have my words on their mind.
On their lips, in their hearts|
A little moment I’ll define.
This moment of theirs particularly to me I’ll confine.

I’ll tell them it’s okay to be alone
Well at least for sometime
And that life is huge and people affluent
Surely some good company you’ll find!

Don’t just adjust for anything just cause everything else seems undefined
Define it,
Give it words
Style It
Call the birds
Tell them to tell the world
At the break of dawn
About it.

That’s about it. I guess I am done for tonight.


Give Love, get love. Simple! :)

It’s 6 in the evening.

I come home after work, change and sit in the living room to have snacks. For company I tune in some random channel on the T.V.

Guess which movie is being telecasted?

“The Notebook”


My over-protective inner self: “Nikita change it. It ain’t good for ya..”

So I try to change the channel but nothing else seems to be coming and the movie had just started so that was the happy part going on, for the moment.

My inviting-vulnerabilities inner self: “What will I lose? Let me just watch it till I finish the snacks. Things are different now, maybe it wouldn’t affect me so much!”

I had first seen this movie before 4 years and with the over sensitive being that I am, I was disturbed for days, especially after knowing that a part of that stuff was real.

(Notebook is a romantic novel based on a True Story written by Nicholas Sparks in 1996, inspired by his wife’s grandparents who had been married for more than 60 sixty years when he met them.) (Source: Google)

In no time 60 minutes pass by and my roommate comes home. I am so glad that she doesn’t sit and talk with me and straight away heads towards the room. I need my space so that I can do whatever I want without being stared at.

But what is it that I want to do at the moment?


I cry as Martha Shaw comes in. As everyday, willingly of course, she is invited and yet rejected, loved and yet made to feel small.

When Noah takes Allie on the boat, which he built himself, and later takes her to the house, which again, he built himself.

As they sit in THE Room drinking beer and the way he looks at her.

As Allie sits there naked and paints.

When her mom drives her to this construction site and tells her that she truly loves her father but how once she was madly in love with that guy who is still working at that site and how her life could have been different if she had tried a little harder.

When Allie reads his letters sitting in the car. As they fight only to come back together. All the freakin’ time. Every time.

How they grow old together, how they die TOGETHER. Even being so old when they can hardly stand still without support, how they still kissed with that holy intense love.

I mean that’s too much to handle with closed lips so I open my mouth and cry.
And just then my roommate comes out of the room!

My conscious inner-self: “Embarrassing!! Nikita stop crying now.”

My brain and heart and other organs: “Well it’s too late now for that!”

So I keep crying no matter what and my eyes swell and mean while my roommate tries her best to divert my mind.

She cracks jokes, makes me laugh for a second only to lose me again to the movie in the next.
In a few minutes the movie gets over.
I get up, go to wash my face.

My solicitous inner self: “Nikita she tried so hard to make you laugh when you were tearing up on that movie. That was really sweet of her.”

Recently a bee had stung me on my finger and the whole area had swelled up like a potato! It was really painful and I had thought of sleeping hungry or else ordering from outside that day.

But situation’s changed now, so with that swollen hand I go to cook.

Me: “Had dinner?”

My roommate: “No.. too tired to cook!”

Me: “Okay, you wanna have Uthapam?”

My roommate: “Yea even I was wondering maybe we could order something from outside.”

Me: “Don’t even worry! I’ll prepare it. Would you like to have?”
“ukw, Better have it, it’ll be nice I promise!”

And we sleep with full stomachs.

“Give love, get love”. Simple! 🙂 🙂

Picture credit : Google

Spreading love

Bangalore, February, 2018

Just like the wind, clouds and our planets, Winter keeps moving too.

It came to Bangalore in the early days of December. It has stayed here for quite a while now and is finally moving away.

These days the Sun doesn’t forget to knock my window early in the morning and I am happy that its touch feels better than my alarm. I sleep alone and cover my face with the blanket anyways!

I remember a few years back I was a different person. I couldn’t live alone and needed my parents for everything. I felt suffocated if I covered my face while sleeping. I wouldn’t sleep without a night lamp. But now I prefer pitch darkness. I changed.


My home changed too, quite a few times actually.

Year 2000, my family and I move to a new house, mom and dad turn it into a beautiful home, balcony, garden, flowers, butterflies, colors. Much love.

Year 2013, I move a thousand miles away from home, to Chennai, to my grandparent’s place to study further.

Year 2013, my grandma becomes my mother and her house my home.

My grandpa cooks for me, packs me lunch boxes, grandma takes care of me when I am sick (which happened very rarely, thanks to her again), gets me Wifi, buys me new clothes on festivals, even though she never buys for herself, takes me to temples, teaches me Sanskrit shlokas, good values. Much love.

Year 2017, my parents move to a new home.

I move to Bangalore to work and stay at a hotel over night.

I stay at another hotel for the next 15 days.

I stay as a paying guest for the next 15 days (hated it).

August, I move to a flat. Find friends who turn it into a beautiful place to live in. We cook, wash, clean, no T.V so we talk for hours, help and get helped. Much love.


Nothing is constant and my people moved.

I moved.

Year 2018, February 15,

I shift to another flat. The TV makes me feel at home, if not the people. It’s just been 2 days and I barely know them. First night in the house and I dream about being posted to France. No doubt I wake up excited.

This place might be good for my dreams at least”, I wonder.


Why I wrote this blog was not to mention my timeline but to record these little gestures of love I received, so that I don’t forget them, ever.
February 14th I am cleaning out my closet and housemaid comes. She knocks everyday by 7:30 in the morning.

It had been exactly 2 months since we had hired her and one month since my old flat mates moved out and new ones came, only physically replacing them.

I handed her salary in her hands.

“Aunty, I am leaving today evening, I am moving to another place…”


She fell out of words.

So did I.

I used to sleep on a thin mattress on the floor and every morning I would fold it up, collect the stuff lying here and there on the floor and make the room ready for her to clean. So she liked to clean my room. She would clean my vessels at times even though i didn’t pay her for that. She reciprocated the gesture I guess.

“What Madam, u also leaving.. even other two Madams left.. am I supposed to leave too?”

“No you stay, I have told the new girls to pay you timely.”

“I am gonna charge extra from them.. their friends make the washroom really dirty.. it takes more effort!”


I smile. I know whatever she said was true and she was a nice lady.

She speaks Kannada but manages with broken Hindi with me.

“No no… how much we are paying for you is fine Aunty.. .”

She smiles and tries to convince me but stops in middle and resumes her work.


A few minutes later, she calls out for me telling me that she was going…

And I feel empty.

After my friends left there was only this lady and now she won’t be there too. I wont be there too.. what about my home. Will it miss all of us after we leave? These windows and the balcony and the shower, would they feel empty too?


“Madam..what also going now..”, she repeats with a heavy heart.

“I am in the same society.. just another flat..”

Her face lights up.

“yea..the condition of this place is not good..better you are going.. if u need a maid there call me.. hope we will see each other!”


She has tears in her eyes and smile on her lips.

I tell her bye and get ready for office. She leaves for the day.

It’s hard to forget her face. So Much love.



I call my mom and tell her that I have finally moved to the new place and she is stressed out.

“I don’t like you moving here and there all by yourself! There is no one there how do you manage? I couldn’t have done that if I was in your place.”

I am sure she could have. Just like I did. Like everybody else does. Situations always come along with the strength to tackle them.


I wish I could tell her about all the love I received on the way, at all the places I took a halt at.

When during vacations I am going back to meet my family, the conversation goes on like this,

My Mom: “Where are you right now?”

Me: I am at home, still packing.

Mom: “When will u reach home?”

Me: I’ll start from home at 1.. I’ll reach home by 6 in the evening! See you soon!

Bye for now! 🙂


While in-Love:

Take me with you
Take me to the End of the skies!
Baby skip the hellos, goodbyes
And let’s start living our dreams
Let’s BE-WILD!

Baby bear with me when I shout in my sleep
Move your hands on my hair, kiss me to sleep
Take me…
Take me for a walk to the End-of- the world,
Sweetie parade your comfort in your shoes and I’ll flaunt all the pain in my heels
Let’s talk out of senses and loose our grip on the feels
Let’s BE-HIGH!

Let’s break all the fences in between
Let’s tell them that we know how to be

Baby take me to the depths of the world!
Let’s swim with the fishes and you pick me those pearls
Let’s bring alive the things we wrote on our list
And I don’t mind if at times we talk with our fists
As long as we TALK-OF-LOVE!

Baby take me to your room and make me your queen
I’ll talk through my eyes, sweetie try to glean what I mean
It’s not hard cause you know what I mean
I mean Love.

Baby let’s hold our hands and spread smiles
Feel lucky for all those little whiles
That we got to live in each other’s dreams
When we got to be as wild as we wanted to be

Baby take me to the Heavens with you!
We’ll go hand-in-hand no matter what comes through
Let’s compliment all our Gods on the pair that they made come true

Without his hearing aid he goes like, “su? su? su?” noo..not susu :p

My grand dad was a teacher by profession. He used to teach full time at a Gujrati school and in the spare hours took part-time classes for that little extra money.

Unlike now, parents in those days (I am talking about the 90’s) were not so casual with spending money on tuitions. They expected the school to give complete education to their children and even if the kids didn’t get that complete package, they wouldn’t mind. No one had any proper definition of that complete package. Whatever the kid learned at school was considered enough.

But now, the sky is the limit. All cities are flooded with coaching classes. Teachers at school lure students into joining their after-school classes for extra/good marks in their exams. All that parents want these days is their kid to be scoring high, hence they all end up in paying for the second, simultaneous school for their kid.

Coming back to 90’s now, my grand dad used to be one of the most sincere teachers but unfortunately his students were the most insincere ones. They would never listen to him and would always make him shout at the top of his voice.

I think he used to imagine himself standing at the top of the Himalayas and shout as if wanting his voice to reach the climbers on much lower levels.

“Come! There is a light at the end of the tunnel! Don’t lose hope my dear children you will definitely learn your lesson!”

Constant shouting made him lose his hearing power. Now his drums don’t beat with the required intensity and hence all sounds reach him compressed and dimmed.

Most of the time now while we both sit together and chat, he goes on like, “su? su? su?”

Nooo not susu, hehe. The Gujrati word ‘Su’ stands for the English word ‘What’.

So the other day he underwent a problem while using his a year-old smartphone (yes he still can’t operate it properly,  well I can’t blame him for it) and came to me for help. He has already taken lessons from his son, daughter, son-in-law and also his grand daughter (that is me) but sooner or later forgets all of it!

“I was just sitting outside on the sofa and I tried calling you but the call didn’t connect, even though I saw that you weren’t talking to anyone else at that time. Is my phone sick? What is the problem?”

He often tries to be all funny and stuff but his jokes mostly don’t manage to make me laugh, and I have to force a ‘ha-ha’ at times because he complains that I am boring. Lol can you believe it?

“No I am sure there must be some problem with the network, your phone is all fine.”

“Natwar? Ave aa natwar kon che bhai?” (meaning, now who is this natwar?)

Well yea I admit that I don’t fall for his deliberate jokes but this was totally unintentional and God! I had to laugh it out loud!

“hahahaha nooo it’s not Natwar! I said NETWORK!” (Natwar is a Hindu-male given name)

Then I made him call on my grand mom’s number and immediately we heard a ring tone and he was satisfied that his phone was working fine.

“But why can’t I call you? Is it your phone which is sick?” 

Com’on now! My phone is Samsung J7, it is new.

“no, it’s just the telecom operators who are sick!”

He is a century behind in technology and with God’s grace manages to dial numbers alone. When I told him that I was using a Vodaphone network and he was using Airtel and how the wifi at our home was BSNL, he started swearing mofos at the telecom industry because it was too much for him to handle! :-p

I still laugh when I think about it so I thot why not pen it down? (I mean digi-pen it down ;))

Good night! 🙂

She wished her goodnight and went to bed, wondering about all the emotions a laugh could contain

The night had fallen and the old couple had just finished their dinner. The wife was afraid due to her husband’s ill health since a few days and today they had finally decided to go to the doctor.

The only person living in their house apart from the two old birds was their grand-daughter. The old man had been in and out of his health for a few years and so their visits to the nearest hospital had been very frequent, most of which ended up in a week’s stay in the blue ward. Blue, because the curtains, bed sheets and uniforms, the sky, the veins and sometimes even the wall paints, they were all blue.

The little girl took a scarf and left the house to call for a transport. The hospital was a minute’s walk from their place but his grand-father was not in a condition to even take a few steps on his own.

The auto arrived in no time. The girl sat first, then sat her grand-mother and so on. This arrangement was proposed by her so that the old man wouldn’t be too troubled in moving in and out.

They reached the hospital in approximately 50 seconds or even lesser and were climbing those few stairs to the doorway.

“You should only take the two-bed ward for tonight, the one which is on the first floor. I don’t want you to be awake all night due to the lack of proper beds in the general ward.”

They had been to that hospital for quite a few times now to know which floors had what rooms and what number of beds.

To what the woman softly replied, “yea yea, this is the least of my worries right now.”

The receptionist looked at the girl and smiled. He had often seen her coming with food, tea, clothes and also with different people to the hospital. Many times she herself would clear all the bills at the end, of course with the money that came out of her grandmom’s little red bag tied in knots that always took more than a while to open. And since till-date all the bills had been cleared on time, the hospital staff had a certain trust developed for that family.

The three of them waited while the doctor was examining another patient in his cabin. The old man was growing very impatient and kept on peeping in. Finally, the man, or rather the only man in a white uniform called them in.

After a few minutes spent together, the old man was sent to the adjacent room for getting an injection. The old woman came out with a prescription which she handed over to her grand-daughter and went inside the room to help her husband.

Meanwhile, the girl ordered for the medicines and again spent a few minutes untying the knots of that red bag before she could receive the tablets.

They reached home in the same arrangement in which they had left it. It was 22:30 by then and they were all tired. After the old man had taken all the prescribed medicines, the girl and the woman started discussing the total expenditure at the hospital.

“I only paid 90 bucks for the tablets. How much did you pay for the injection and the consultancy fee?”

“Waaaiit, I didn’t pay anything to them, I will go and pay them tomorrow morning. I was so busy looking after him that I didn’t pay attention elsewhere.”

She started laughing. Now both of them, the woman and the girl were laughing their lungs out. They didn’t know what was so funny.

“I think the staff at the hospital knows me so well that now I don’t even have to worry about paying their fees anymore!” She laughs between her words. “I can just walk in and out wherever I want to, it’s like a park now, we keep visiting it for restoring your grand-father’s health!”

Now the old woman started to laugh so loudly that the little girl got scared, for a moment, horrified! She could hear the lungs of her grand-mother scratching, the same noise that comes out when two metals fiercely rub against each other. She stoped laughing. There was sadness now, and all the humour flew away. She could see her grand mother still laughing to herself and knew, that deep down that old woman was so scared that her worries were coming out in the form of a grim laugh.

She wished her goodnight and went to bed, wondering about all the emotions a laugh could contain.

P.S- A laugh is a laugh at the end of the day!

No matter why it filled our lungs, it’s still a great exercise!

Good night! : )