The Convicts

Source: Stock Photos I think I will like rain more if I sit in the balcony and drink cups of coffee, if I read books, if I write. I hate getting into muddy puddles and I hate the mud on my feet. I hate feeling cold when I am drenched in rain. *** I think I will like you more if we go to the movies, if we go out on romantic dates to watch desi plays, if we have intellectual debates on why my brain is weird. I think I will like you more if I see you from a vantage point; being close to you is scary. I hate it when I feel cold after loud, messy fights. I hate it when I fight with you about who manages which chores. *** I stepped out in the rain today. I can’t always avoid it. My feet were muddy. I was feeling cold. But the thought of the balcony and cups of coffee kept me warm. **I wrote this last monsoon or in 2018. I don't remember clearly. But I wanted to record the thought here.

Dear All, This is how I start my formal, official mails- “Dear All”. I wish I could have started this, ummm, this letter more informally. (I do not have a better word for it- It is more of a cry than a letter, not directed at anyone specifically but at everyone.) I cannot start this informally though. The matter that I wish to convey is of a sombre nature. This lockdown has been difficult for everyone. It has been especially difficult because we have been hearing of the death of some very well-known names. Sushant Singh Rajput passed away today, and it is said that he hanged himself. Finality of death is such that it has caused us human beings to dream up an afterlife. It is the ultimate full stop! End of a 34-year-old, at the peak of his career, with so much to offer. After Sushant’s death, people have been speculating if it was really a suicide. A friend’s friend said, “When you are an over achiever, you are involved in things that have some big consequences. We do not know

Source:  https://www.behance.net/gallery/35154617/JokerMad-Hatter-Design Today, 10th of Oct is "World Mental Health Day" and even google bhaiyya does not want to make a doodle for it.  The struggle is real! So I wrote on facebook the other day about mental health and I got all sorts of comments. And I wondered why I inflicted this upon myself. You know how people put a caption beneath their pictures- “Felt cute, may delete later.” I should put a disclaimer with all of my opinions “Felt right, may change later.” Approximately 0.1% of Indians have cancer—I verified this information from 2-3 different surveys ( https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/ pmc/articles/PMC5826535/ ). On the other hand, 6% of Indians suffer from mental illnesses. And yet, we know so much more about cancer than mental illnesses. I don’t blame us Indians for it. I blame only one Indian who came up with this concept that if someone has mental illness matlab he is yeda, gandu, charyo, pottan,

Haal-e-dil Aaj kal yun hi muskurati rehti hu Jhalli se rehni wali main, Baar baar Sajne sawarne main lag jati hu! Khanabadosh sa mera dil, jo yaha waha kuch dhunda karta tha, Ab theravh chahta hai. Bheed main bhi akeli rehne wali main, Aur ab akele baithe baithe has deti hu! Kisi dost ne bola, lagta hai ise pyaar ho gaya Aur tab ehsaas hua ki haan, barso baad khud se phir ek baar pyaar karne lagi hu!

Dear Pakistan, I have had this nauseous feeling inside of me for some time now. I had consciously stirred away from all the books that described the partition in great detail. And if I did read about it, it was objective and from a third party perspective. I refrained myself from having any feelings about it. And why should I have them? I was born in 1988 in a small town of Maharashtra- an Indian state far away from the India-Pakistan border. Yes, my best friend had her ancestral roots in Sindh but we seldom spoke about it in detail. I grew up hearing about ISI intermittently. From what we kids heard about it, for us, ISI was equivalent to a terrorist organization. You were always the enemy. How I hated you during the Kargil war. And yes, almost everything that went wrong in India was attributed to you and your ISI. And then this happened: It was 2003. I was 14. I was in Thailand as a part of the Indian contingent for the 20 th world scout Jamboree. I met people from ar

I go to my office, I sit at my desk. I type mails on my laptop. Tip tap tip tap, such sounds the keys make! Analysis and meetings and arguments and reports; Inside I am draining, I feel so low. I feel dizzy, I want to lie down. I cannot explain to the world, It is my krypton- This vitamin D deficiency makes me all woozy. But I fight it every day, I am a supergirl, you see! My best friend is a batwoman. How is that, you ask. Oh that’s simple- she wears a mask. She lost her parents-no, not physically. But in spirit, they weren’t available emotionally! They told her she couldn’t do it, she was not smart. The world said the same, she had a broken heart. She fought depression for a very long time. And yet she is now a business woman, totally worth every dime! There was a little boy I knew, A boy who lived! His name wasn’t Harry Potter but he shared the same story He survived a brutal attack, it was very gory. The world sneered at hi