Dear Faith,

I have gone through a lot in the past few months. Well, Life likes to teach us lessons and I seem to be one of Life’s favorite pupils. J

There have been times when I felt low, when I thought there was nothing left in life to look up to. I appreciate the way you handled me then. Thanks for reminding me each day that “Nothing in life is permanent”, and that “This too shall pass”.

Thanks for proving to me, in your own tiny ways that “Every cloud has a silver lining”. You told me how everything happens for one’s own good. You calmed me when I refused to listen and made me wiser with each passing day.

Remember the day we went for “Life of Pie”?  I felt really good after watching it. I could somehow connect. I felt I was Pie and this phase of life was akin to his journey across the Pacific. I felt happy thinking that in the end, I too would survive.

Pie and I had another thing in common, and that is you! This is when my belief in you grew stronger than ever and I decided to never let you go.

Thanks for being by my side forever, for becoming stronger with each challenge that Life throws at me. You are a man’s best friend, and I shall keep Faith for-ever!

 -Love, me

 

Linked to: Theme-Thursday  Prompt: Faith

Picture Courtesy: Mrsupole of Theme Thursday

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Welcome to the Future

It has been a tortuous climb. Thank God I could make it here! Yes, I believe in God, and its a good thing to believe in something, someone, somebody..it gives you hope. It makes you last, its makes you fight..until the victory is yours.

That was some insightful into the life I had been leading in the last few months. That very much explains my absence too. Thankfully its all over now and thoughts are streaming out of my mind as (best) they once did!

------

I met this guy at an interview the other day. He too happened to be a software engineer but had no technical knowledge. He was the kind of engineer who never attended classes in college and cleared semester exams with marginal marks, thanks to last minute studies. This was not surprising because more than 60% of the software engineers I have met till now belong to the same category. (More on this in future post/s)

What I actually found surprising was the fellows views on corruption and bribery. Well here was a young 20-something guy, the so-called "future" of my beloved India proclaiming quiet confidently that corruption was his birthright! All that he aimed for in life was a government job, not because he wanted to serve the country but because he all he wanted to do in the name of work was play cards.

"Paisa kamaana hai, par mehnat nai karni.. (I want to earn money but do not want to work hard)", said he with a sombre looking face. "Ek baar sarkari naukri lag jaaye bas...fir to table k upar taash aur niche paiso ki gaddi...(Once I get a government job, It will be cards above the table and money under it)", he added.

To speak the least, his thoughts left me aghast! Where is my country headed?! His thoughts worried me and his views left me perplexed. My bubble of belief that I belonged to an anti-corruption generation was suddenly burst, and how! 

The fact that he had already cleared first 2 rounds of the Staff Selection Commission exams and was waiting for the final interview scared me. What if he succeeded in his endeavors? What if he became a Central Excise Inspector, and Income Tax or a CBI Inspector?? I shuddered at the thought.

-----

This meeting has really got me thinking. I wonder how many more youths like him must exist. I then tried to trace the roots of this mentality that the guy so strongly adhered to. My search ended at his family. The fellow's father happened to be an officer at State Bank of India, a government body. According to him, his father had no much work at office and received innumerable free facilities from the government. Many of his relatives had government jobs too. So naturally conversation in the family always revolved around government jobs, which aunt took the highest amount as bribe, how a certain uncle had become a crorepati thanks to corruption, which cousin had no work pressure at office and lived a life of luxury, so on and so forth.

-----

I love my country. I am worried.

yaaY its souP, possiblY!!

My earliest soup memory goes back to when I was almost five. We had gone out for dinner and mum ordered tomato soup. She said it would work as an appetizer. Everything went fine until the next morning.

Dad and I were standing by the sink brushing our teeth. Suddenly the muscles of my stomach stiffened, the toothbrush stopped in my mouth, I bent over and the next thing I knew the entire sink was full of the tomato soup!  The brick red liquid was dripping down my toothbrush.

Since then I avoid ordering tomato soup at restaurants. J

Written for Theme Thursday



3 and 3
are 2 women, the 2nd itching the 1st one's back!

3 and 3
are lovers, He making up to Her.

3 and 3
are Martha's tiny hairclips, left on the floor.

3 and 3
are twins, happily co-existing.

3 and 3
are a cartoon's ears, lost and found here!

3 and 3
are 6, 9, 8 and 33.

I say 3 and 3
'coz possibilities have no decree!

For Theme Thursday


 

...& all that

I am broken. My wounds sore. I can’t fight you anymore.

You proved me wrong

whenever I took a decision
and tried to move on.

 Why do they say

"live to the fullest” when
all we have to do each day is compromise?

These dreams are mine,

I cherish them!
Who then are you to come in between us?

Stop stopping me from moving forward.

Dear Life,

Do not forget                                                    

That even you have no existence without me.

 

 

 

Gloom

Life and its cruel games!
It caresses u but with claws ‘guised in fur
Pushes you to take that one next step and then mocks you, sneers at your failed efforts
Just as you try to collect yourself, its vicious laughter reeking in vanity echoes
It flips sides faster than the pulse yet somehow it is never on your side.
In this never ending duel, you give up one day to realize:
“All the world’s a stage
And all the men and women merely players…”

Dancing Passion

Rajeev was tired. Work pressure at office was immense and he was now waiting fervently for the two "golden" days of the week when he could forget about the world, hang up his boot and relax.

Quite inevitably they were here and a bright Rajeev woke up to a bright Saturday! He happily sipped his coffee smiling all along. He endeared this lunatic self and kept singing, "my plan is to have no plan at all..du da ra da ra da ra ra..".

Just a few "plan-less" hours into the morning and his cell phone beeped.

"need shoppin for 2nyt's party. 1pm, City Square Mall, be there on time".

Dismay rushed down Rajeev's body, his smile faded as he slumped into the sofa. Reeta was at it again. She knew how badly he wanted these weekends to himself, that he hated nothing more than SHOPPING!! Shopping that too on a weekend was the most perfect imperfect recipe of disaster to Rajeev.

But he couldn’t say NO to her. They had been together for more than a year now and he knew that she had no girl-friends...that he was her be all, and end all..that he was her only friend, guide, help, philosopher, lover, alter-ego..and that she loved him. He could never disappoint her, rather he didn't want to. He didn’t want to lose another relationship. He knew how mean life had been to her and he somehow wanted to make up for it, give her everything that life had snatched away. Reeta, once in a while tried to take undue advantage of the fact, but Rajeev...well he just kept mum, never said a word lest he would hurt her.

                                                                            ***

"Oh baby, I’m so sorry you had to step out today", Rita placed a kiss on Rajeev's cheek while entwining her fingers around his. The "Dancing Passion" she wore filled his nostrils. Many a time this sweet fragrance came floating into his dreams and that is when he missed being with HER the most.

"Why couldn’t you shop yesterday? And which damn party are you going to tonight? Can’t you wear something that you already have??" a miffed Rajeev blurted as Reeta pulled him by the arm into City Square.

"Arre baba! today is Bijoya and our TL (Team Leader) has invited us for dinner", said Reeta still tugging him along.

"That fat arse, can't he leave you alone even on weekends!"

"Arre chill baba..its Bijoya..Dussehra, remember?"

"All I know is that it’s Saturday.. And why do you have to shop, what happened to all the clothes you had?"

"The dress code is saree..you know I don’t have a single saree.."

"Sarree??  that fat arse....i swear.."

Rajeev hated Reeta's boss. Seeing Rajeev swear this way about him always made Reeta laugh. Still giggling, she managed to tug him into the saree section. With 5-6 randomly selected sarees Reeta marched into the ladies trial room, pulling Rajeev all along.

"You sit here and come when I call you, I'll try each saree and you tell me how it looks on me..OK?"

Rajeev nodded, uninterested. With this Reeta entered one of the four trial rooms that ran alongside the sofa into which Rajeev dropped. A large mirror hung on the other side reflecting the lonely trial room, the only person visible in it was a slouched and grumpy Rajeev.

He stared at the wall infront of him, his mind blank, thinking nothing but yearning to go home. Just as he glanced into his watch Reeta called, "Rajeev come, have a look.."

Quickly onto his feet, with head bowed down he moved toward the trial room and knocked on the first door. The door opened, he pushed it ajar and entered.

"What took you so long?" came a voice as he lifted his gaze. A woman's bare back welcomed it. She had let a pallu* fall carelessly down her left shoulder. Rajeev adjusted his gaze to follow the spine descend like a rivulet down a slope. Her form had curves that arched like sandunes do in deserts. Those pair of shoulders stood like a dancer’s:  well-poised and firm. A tress or two of jet black curls sprung off the bun on her head, gracefully descending down the neck and onto the blemish-free back.  Mesmerized, Rajeev at once felt drawn to her silky smooth skin.

Enticed and caught as if in a trance he moved forward trying to touch and feel and hold HER once again when suddenly, she turned!

"Where's the................"

Before she could utter another word, Rajeev covered the girl's mouth with his palm and she strangely made no effort to resist. His heart skipped a beat as he stared right into those large mysterious eyes. The warmth of her breath seemed to fill the room as her delicate lips quivered under his touch. It soothed and comforted him for what seemed like an eternity, until...

"Rajeev”

“Rajeev Where are you?”

“Rajeeeeev...."

The calls grew louder and suddenly the two felt jolted back into reality. Rajeev quickly moved his hand off her mouth, took a step behind, turned, glanced back at her and finally, left.

"Pooja are you here..." knocked a man onto Pooja's door minutes after Rajeev closed it behind him to enter the one in which Reeta waited.

                                                                       ***

As he slept in his bed that night, "Dancing Passion" filled his senses. He began missing HER in his sleep again, HER fragrance binding him like never before. He woke up with a start! It had been two years that he had last seen her graceful form, her perfect curves, her dancing curls...until...until today...

It had been two long years since Pooja left him to marry some guy her parents had chosen. "Dancing Passion" was the perfume she wore every time they met. He didn’t know why be he always made sure that Reeta wore it too.

                                                                    *THE END*

 *pallu: the part of your saree that you drape over your shoulder

 

 

My "Modern" Neighbours

The concept of " being modern" seems grossly misinterpreted in this country of ours. Having lived in metro cities across the country, I have been exposed to a major faux-pas in the way women from the upper middle-class and in their 30's interpret the term " modern".

Is being modern all about wearing western outfit? Is being modern all about speaking english even if you donot know its "this" and "that"s?? Is modernity all about going to late night parties, not caring about your aging in-laws and innocent kids? or, Is it about spending hours over the phone either bitching or bragging?

My answer to all these above is an in-your-face NO!!

Before I go further, let us take a moment and analyse the story of these so-called "modern" women.

Most or rather almost all of them have graduated from some local college in their neighbourhoods. They have never had a "life" outside home and college. They have all been married off at an early age and have husbands who earn much more than they actually need. Thanks to their husbands jobs, these women have migrated to the metro cities and live in neighbourhoods where the women in other families share a similar story.

Post this migration to metro cities they find themselves suddenly free, free to do anything and everything they feel like. The poor husband is too pre-occupied with work to monitor his wife. The aaya takes care of all the household chores and her kids spend a major part of the day in school. She is left with immense free time and complete freedom. Indulgence is the only activity that strikes her.

So she gathers all her new-found like-minded friends and plans a lunch, sometimes a brunch. The only thing these women discuss at these get-togethers is clothes, make-up and accessories. They all complain how wearing a sari or a salwar suit bores them, how it doesn't go down well with their status to turn up in a saree and, voila! they all decide to shun them- the Indian dresses!

And thus begins the saga of misinterpreted,misread and misconstrued trip down the road to modernity.

I have seen women in their early 30's shop for mini-skirts. Well, no harm in that but lady, look into the mirror atleast sometimes and realise that your unshapely legs, bulging tummy and hips do not grace that skirt. You are in a way only mocking yourself.

Even the likes of Rekha and Hema Malini, inspite of having a perfect body make it a point to turn up in a saree. Why then does an ordinary woman like you despise saree, our national identity?

A Reality Check- this is what these women need. I wonder what kind of an example these moms are setting for their kids. With time, tables shall be turned. It is then that these self-proclaimed modern women will realise that attire and self-indulgence do not define modernity. It is ones morality, knowledge, outlook and realisation of responsibilities that decide whether one is truly modern or no.

　

　

　

home away from home

Burrabazar among us mawaris is probabaly more famous than the seven wonders of the world! Many from the community have scripted their rags-to-riches story in the narrow lanes of Burrabazar. Some of the most successful "baniyas" (businessmen) can be found here dressed in crispy white kurta-pyjamas, chewing rajanigandha and spitting paan.

Hundreds of gaddis (business set-ups) exist cheek by jowl in the area's dilapidated buildings. However there is no "fierce competition" among them. A sense of mutual respect and co-existence lets harmony preside. A "gaddi", of all is a very humble place. Furniture here is minimal. Only a couple of mattresses covered in sparkling white sheets, a galla and images of Laxmi, Goddess of wealth and Ganesha, God of auspicious-ness is all you will find. Appearances are deceptive and this applies here too. So do not go by the humble interiors of a gaddi, business dealing worth crores is done here!

I do not know how and when I developed this "phobia " towards Burrabazar. Maybe it was the fear of running into those dark, perspiring, lungi-clad labourers earning their daily wages that scared me; or may be the sheer cacophony and disoriented-ness of the place repelled me. I always feared getting jostled, unable to gain control.

But then the best way of overcoming fears is by facing them, and face I did! Compelled by "shopping needs" and pushed by the urge to overcome the "burrabazar-phobia" I, one fine day, decided to visit Burrabazar.

As I marched into the marketplace, a certain sense of familiarity struck. Little did I know (but soon found out) that this place was just like any other marketplace in Rajasthan, my birthplace! It was a microcosm of sorts. Shops were named the way they are in Rajasthan. "Sohanlal and Sons", "Chandmal Sitaram", "Chhaganlal Shyamaldas", have you ever known shops named this way? Well, I have. You find them either in Rajasthan or, yes you guessed it right, in Burrabazar!!

Soon my ears began picking words in marwari from people's conversations. Bandhej and chunari (native Rajasthani fabric prints) sarees lay on display as I crossed them in shops, one after the other. Those perspiring labourers gave way to lovely aunties, some sensuous and others pot-bellied. (:D) Suddenly I felt releived, and safe. I looked around as gentle breeze from a nearby banyan tree caressed my face, as if to say, "Welcome home!".

Delightful mirth dwelled in me as I explored few more lanes around. Such was the aura, that I soon realised that one could easily pass off these lanes as  being those of Jaipur. I was overjoyed and wished I had "discovered" this facet of Burrabazar earlier.

"The leaving" was as difficult as "the coming" but this time the reason was completely opposite. This time I just didn't want to go! I wanted to explore more, shop more and in turn relish abit more in this new found "at home" feeling that the place was so generously exuding.

Alas! leave I did, but only with a will to soon return to my very own "home away from home". :)

( And oh! I had the yummiest curry-bhujia in one of the eatries there, it tasted just the way it does at home :) :) )

City of Joy?

Living in Kolkata is very different from living in any other part of West Bengal. I have never felt such strong presence of any city around me as much as I have done here in my 4 years of stay.

Its running helter-skelter,this city. There's sheer madness that i have felt- a madness to struggle today so that the tomorrow is secured. Tomorrow, however ushers in more such struggle. Everybody here is running, both literally and metaphor-ically.

There are so many people here, that a bus-stop sometimes resembles a fair ground. People, people and more, people! This definitely IS the population explosion that our books in school talked about. But you can't help wondering whether Kolkata is the city most affected by it.

This city has the more number of bandhs/strikes than any part of the country I have heard of. Politics was never so important in my life as it is now. In my stay here I have realised that political activities are capable of doing anything and everything to you.

They can make you miss your flight by causing a road block.
They can put a full stop to all your Christmas celebrations.
They can make them shut down the grocery store before you can buy your daily rasions.
They can also postpone my Advance Java exam by 12 days!!

Yes. Thanks to some useless nationwide strike on 31st May, my exam for that day has been postponed to 13th June!! This in turn made a friend postpone her Kashmir trip by over a week. Simply preposterous, isn't it?  In the name of "general welfare", political parties have begun interfering a bit too much into our private lives.

The degree of this interference is most if you are living in Kolkata. And why not! With a CM like ours, this was not far behind. What can be expected of a lady who labels a student Maoist before walking out of a chat show?
A maoist? Just because the girl questioned your governance? Is this how a CM is expected to behave? Definitely no.

Here's the link of how our CM fled the show, watch it for yourself.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vx-2SsI4B9U

I worry for the future of this city, for the millions of youth living here with dreams in their eyes, dreams to make it big..to reach the skies..to live in and still love this city.

　

Day #2

Exams Exams Exams..there's no getting rid of them! So three more papers to go before I wish "Sayonara" to my 4 years of engineering.

The only activity I am doing these days is studying. So what good can I be expected of. Neway. But one good thing i did today was that i was agreeable, polite, cheerful and good to everybody i met. :)

I will be blogging intermittently as my studies will be keeping me occupied most of the time. Hope you fellas have a good time doing good and spreading smiles. :)

Chao!

DAY#1

So here it goes..the G-R-aaaaAaaa-N-D opening of my "GOODNESS" posts! Lets spread some goodness..through little acts of goodness:)

Incase you are wondering what this is all about, read HERE.

Since I have university exams from day after tomorrow, I had to keep myself confined to books, books and only books today. So there. Couldn't do anything extraordinarily nice. However I would like to pick a few good tid-bit actions from the day.

• decorated the wall by my bed with some messages to motivate me: "Be positive" and "Smile often" and "Love thyself"
• helped my roomate prepare for her exam, by making her learn.
• called up mom, dad, and little sis. Spoke at length to each and felt extremely satisfied after.
• stood in the porch to face the ferocious winds of the storm..loved the feeling of power that gripped me when the winds, with all their force couldn't move me an inch..YAAY!! 

:) :) :)

psst! the last wasn't a task in goodness, however doing it made me happy. And the evry essence of these GOODNESS posts is to make others and oneself happy.

!!!Surprise!!!

I have been really mean to this blog of mine, no? Lately I have been behaving like a step-mom; but wait! this blog isn't my step-child. It is duely my own; and first; and will always remain the dearest:)

The elder child is by default the more mature, understanding and compromising of all. More so if the child is a girl. I have always been all these things. Dad confided most of his worries into me. I would get worried hearing of his worries, but never let my expressions show that I was worried. And when I got worried all I did was pray, pray and pray hard for whoever/whatever I was worried about! ( :D )

Then when I had crushes in school I would be extra careful to ensure that nobody at home came to know about them. I don't remembering looking at myself too much in the mirror either. It was towards the end of school that I began caring about my looks ( :D ).

I-dont-know-why Im writing all this nonsense

I remember all the family outings, all the good things that happened to me, all the things we talked about and all the times we spent together..and thats when I start missing home. Four years among not-so-congenial and no-so-familial people is not a joke! I am so proud of myself for never complaining about anything to mom and dad! All I want now is to get back to them and see the family together:)

The mature me talking, eh! :)

P.S. i have been planning something for this blog. I have thought of this: at the end of each day, I will be posting about all the good things I have done in the day. If you happen to read this I would like to request/beg/plead/coax/ask you to join me. Post all the good things you have done in the course of the day on your blog and leave your link as comment below my post for the day.
These little acts of goodness can be anything. It could be something you did to help someone, or to make somebody happy or to make yourself happy...just anyhting that you did and feel happy about.

I believe this will help us all in becoming a better person, spreading happiness and remaining happy ourselves :)

Much love.

I have been wanting to talk my mind for long. There was this new ‘wisdom’ that somehow dawned on me and I decided to peep in. I began to yearn for my “self”. I wanted to face this difficult, unyielding “somebody” within me. I had to tame her, establish harmony with this girl I hardly knew. And so I decided to talk here, through written words.

After all this blogspot is the dumping ground for all my erraticly tumultuous thoughts and rambles!

This blog is my reflection (so if this space bores you, live convinced that I am a boring person! :D). The myself that I see here sometimes surprises me. I see a positive, happy person, a keen observer willing to express, willing to talk..without bothering about anybody listening. There is no awkwardness, no calculated words; there's just me...and the flow!

What I feel, say, write and express here is not categorized into the correct and the incorrect. Everything is correct. Everything is incorrect. And still, it’s none of the two. There is no code. I don’t have to please. I can be me. This is precisely why it’s called “Soul scripted..”

And now the rambling I was rambling about!

CAUTION: Read at your own risk!

I am a reserved person. I make friends, but only one among them becomes a fast friend. This is not because I want it that way. But this is because I have not been able to create a comfort zone with too many people. I have not met too many people like me. I can exchange a sentence or two, but beyond that I am available only to a selected few; or very few.

I would rather walk alone than walk with a forced company. I do not talk unnecessarily. I would rather stay quiet than talk about something I shouldn't or do not want to talk about. I want true friends. Even one friend will do, provided the person is true. I know i will find some more as I live on. 

There was a time when I would pretend to be some other non-self. I wanted to make friends and so tried to behave in a manner which would please others. This way I made friends, but I lost the inner me, the true self that I was. Also, these friends I had were there only at their whims and moods. They were there only when they wanted to.

...

and the blah!-s go on..

phew!

Thanx for reading! I’ll buy you lemonade the next time we meet, I promise! J J  

My second holi with friends! Was crazy to speak the least. I was never a Holi-person. My entire childhood is full of only observations of people playing with the colors. I always liked to maintain a distance, and watch.

Earliest recollections are of my parents and a whole lot of their friends. They would all come to our place in a car. Dad, in white kurta-pyjama would go with them somewhere.  Couple of hours later when they returned , dad would look like a ghost! His white kurta-pyjama now with patches of red, pink, green and blue colors all over. His chappals and feet smeared in abeer, applied by his junior colleagues as a mark of respect.

Then came the tussle. Mom wouldn't let dad enter the house in his "ghastly and colored" state. Dad, in turn would pull mom out of the house and overturn a packet full of abeer over her. Other friends would join, as I watched, sometimes from the balcony and sometimes from a distance somewhere.

One of dad's colleagues (we called him 'tauji')  would live in the same building as ours. I very vividly remember how dad hurriedly took us (my sister and me) to the balcony one Holi morning, himself carrying a bucketful of colored water. Tauji, all bathed and beaming in his new, sparkling white kurta-pyjamas was standing downstairs just below our balcony.  With a startling splash, the entire bucketful of water was dropped onto tauji! Bewildered, and with water dripping from all over him tauji looked up, and we all screamed in unison, "Bura na mano Holi hai!!" With that, all our mischiefs were pardoned.

That's the magic of Holi.

Smeared in color, everybody appears the same. Nobody is rich, nobody is poor. They are all red and blue and green.

The Echo

i exist, in my own sweet space..

covered in blanket of hope..

sipping the juice of karma..

trying to last, until the end..

if this is an act, I play me..

raw, rough, rash, rude..

im happy atlast, that i am me..

im in love with this new rotten self..

there were no rules,

who set them anyway?

i live, in my own sweet space,

away from the familiarly unfamiliar..

webs of complexity long gone,

innocent chirpings to excite me..

discovering this new me,

pealing the layers with intent..

wispers of tiny nothings

of little somethings

of renewed confidence

of reignited enthusiasm

of belief, of hope,

of tenderness and optimism.

take a ride

feel thy true self

while discovering that somebody

you call, me!

PS:  warm welcome to the two new followers!! thankyou galleons for being so lovely and kind:) this post has been taken from ~~stRanDS Of yaRn~~, my second blog. Do check it out and let me know what you think about it. Soul scripted is where I share my experiences with life and ~~stRanDS Of yaRn~~ is where I post my poems, articles, haphazard thoughts and disarrayed musings! Please extend your support and be generous with your comments:) I know you will NOT be harsh while commenting. Keep smiling to spread smiles..love.

It’s been way too long since I last posted. Months have passed and I still can’t stop thinking: "what to post?" To put all my confusions (about the topic for a new post) to rest, I finally decided to write. Simply write.

Post CAT there was sem-exam after which I travelled home. My college and home are situated at two ends of the country and so I travelled through the 'heart' of the country to be here. :P So busy was I enjoying the havenly bliss that, lo and behold! it’s been a month that I have been here. Lazy Blogger, that’s what I am.

I miss the kites now. Hundreds of them would dot the sky each day. I would climb the terrace every afternoon, to watch little boys on neighboring terraces muster the best of their kite-flying skills to out-fly and cut other kites. More boys racing through lanes, jumping over walls and climbing trees to get hold of the falling kites blown by winds and landing into people's homes, sometimes fields and bushes. My eyes feasted on beautiful kites of myriad hues and patterns two of which were my favorite. One had black-n-white chessboard pattern with nice red border. The other had broad kaleidoscopic print in lighter shades of orange yellow and green. The border again accentuated the kite's beauty. I marveled collecting kites that would sometimes land onto our terrace or into our backyard. I would then hand it over to the first kite-runner that reached me. In this little way I too tried getting involved in this age old tradition of kite-flying. It was fun!

It’s nice to see people in this village (yes that’s where I belong!) prosper. Though the quality of education here is not up to the mark, even girls are given equal right to education by their respective families. There are four schools in this little hamlet consisting of some hundred homes. Most are farmers. Selling milk to dairies is a new way of making money here. Land is the biggest asset these people have. Some farmers here own land worth crores!

Many little, and strikingly different worlds co-exist in this world. I have enjoyed living in two completely opposite places, one a cosmopolitan city and other a remote village. Both are my own. I feel chosen, and special!