Overdose of Nostalgia

Sometimes our memories can engulf us if we allow them to. 23rd December 2017 was one such day for me. A day that was so close to magic that just in 4 days’ time I am wondering, did it really happen? Or was it just a dream? You understand what I mean. Don’t you?

It was our 20th year school reunion. 20 long years. 2 decades. It’s a long time. Isn’t it? the world had been a different place since we left our alma matter in 1997.

But from an era of 

Outdoor games to mobile games

Walking to a friend’s home for chit-chat to sending forwarded messages on WhatsApp

Seeking love in people to seeking solace in technology

There are things that never change. In a distant hazy corner of our heart, we are still the same. Craving for a human warmth, a real connection and lots of love.

And I got all this on 23rd December. Lucky me. The thing with school friends is that you can pick up from where you left. We were planning for some icebreaker session but as soon as our friends started pouring in we realized we didn’t need any icebreaker. We were silly to even think of it. we started chatting as we were never separated, totally ignoring the changes in appearance caused by time, and surprisingly time had stopped for some, they were still the same.

We started the event the way we used to start our day in school, with a prayer, followed by the national anthem, thought for the day and news.

Memories are like bogies of a train, one pulls another. I loved when teachers and students shared their memories without the fear of being judged. Someone shared how they used to steal mangoes from a teacher’s garden, someone shared how they were bribed with imli and mango for some answers. And we couldn’t stop laughing. And as they shared a part of their life I was wondering, long back, maybe 20-25 years back when those incidents happened would they have imagined they will be sharing these things with a laugh in a crowd of about 100. And as they unshackled their memories I saw many faces smiling with glint of tears in their eyes.

It really needs courage to speak out that you realize your mistakes and I salute Kusum madam, our maths teacher when she admitted how she thinks it wasn’t right to judge students on the basis of their marksheets, no matter whether a child was average or a ranker they all are at happy places and it made her realise marksheet doesn’t matter in long run. She gave us the valuable advice to be not the kind of parent who forces their children to focus only on marks. Joshi madam, our Hindi teacher gave such a wonderful speech, she said she was proud to see that the saplings they nurtured have transformed to lush green crops dancing to the tune of winds in the meadows and that makes her feel happy. All the teachers gave their blessing in their own beautiful words. When you listen to such heart-warming words from your teachers you feel overwhelmed, in a moment you are smiling and the very next you are crying, and in some you are doing both.

The best part for me was touring around the school. It was an overdose of nostalgia. How much we have changed from nasty little kids to responsible parents but somewhere deep down aren’t we still the same? Seeking acceptance and love from all around us. Some emotions are so raw that they scare us. We are afraid to embrace them and we are afraid to push them aside. Somewhere we are still seeking what we used to, it’s just that we are scared to speak it aloud.

And as the event came to an end and we walked out I was wondering how long does it take for a magical day to surrender to memories. One moment, just a moment when we wrap a million of experiences in a secured corner of our heart where no time can snatch it away. A memory that will make us smile in our dark days. A memory that will remind us we had lived our life. A memory that we can count when we count the blessings of our life.

I can write pages after pages about what I felt that day and what I am feeling now reliving those memories but I have to stop somewhere. Now it’s time to share thoughts of some of my friends about this reunion. 

*************

Aarti Sharma:

Reunion brought all the childhood memories back which were buried behind day to day deadlines/commitments. In 4-5 hours we relived our childhood.

Hume humse dobara mila diya

Pranjal Desai:

Thanks almighty for giving me the strength to co-ordinate the function nicely.

Firstly, I would like to say that my father lifted the sand from the school stairs and applied to his forehead. It symbolized that school is temple from which I am learning so much and am proud of it. It was very nice meeting after 20 years and understand friends in a better way. Shared lot of stories, danced a lot and felt warmth of teachers. I would also thank my wife and children for supporting me in a big way. Kudos.

Tarun Parmar:

The scent of friendship has embraced the heart once again...

Those long lost memories have sprung up again..

I could still see that innocence in all my mates..

Lingering in the Nostalgia, opening up my

Brain's flood gates...

Walking down that porch, meeting the same old friends

Who made me so strong, because of them my life is still transcends...

We left each other a while ago, in a hope to find better life and friends,

How little did I know, life is a circle, it starts at the same place it ends...!!!

Pathik Almoula:

Once upon a time .... yes no less than a story! In 1997 when I moved out of my school with a disgraced pride, with lump of poor marks I had no clue what will I do in this life and would I ever like to come back to school to show my face. But it is the same school which taught us how to be resilient and bounce back. Yes it did teach and I did bounce! On 23rd morning of December 2017 Kumaril and I with many of you entered bowing down at staircase. Oh yes today also Kumar and I were together.

What I first recalled was the feeling of coming to school to see my 12th results. My heart pumped faster and with our age nearing 40s I realised that my BP also would have raised slightly. Then I walked through the corridor thinking OMG I am actually back in my school - IPCL School No.2, yeah that’s the name. While walking through classes and sitting back on benches I realised that my biggest gift was to make friends and not be judgemental (it’s only a pursuit)

Yes making friends, beyond class mates or batch mates. When I approached the hall it felt like playing Jumanji. All the characters whom we were whatsapping with, came alive and were grown up in size and still behaved the same like we did in school. Breathless selfie proves it all.

Like most of us I too felt the school looks small yet cozy. The Lyceum which use to make us feel like an achiever in battle field, felt like, home for a soldier coming back after the hiatus called (no less than a war) Life. I felt that what we are living today is just a result of what we lived then was truly Life. Growing up, and maturity felt kicked when I met all of you. Though it took me three attempts when Niru invited to speak in front of our teachers but finally I could speak or talk rather. 

Like characters of Chotta Bheem (I am trying to not refer to some fatsos including yours truly) we did some rewinding pranks and visited all those places in township where we all lived and loved!

When we parted in the evening I felt like Doremon and Nobita going back home after great day!

This blog will be incomplete without mentioning Pranjal who made this experience real! Yo bro! 

Totally enjoyed that day and again I walked out with pride but with grace, happiness and above all many more friends than I had in 1997. 

Looking forward, it’s payback time and would love to do something that makes us again united for a cause to help build an institution for the future of our nation (oh it sounds like an elocution). As a leadership coach I feel our school is “the place” which taught us situational leadership “jiski definition MBA mein sikhi 😜” . True example of situational leadership emerged when we were brought to principal sir’s room or when school no.1 guys messed with us!! 

I hereby volunteer to teach one full day in a year to 12th standard batch about leadership lessons which life teaches and a state board or ICSE or CBSE may not cover. Dear School - look forward to see you soon dude but next time for a purpose to return a bit what you gave us! Ciao!!

Dipal Naik :

I want to express a deep gratitude to all of my gurus ..a very very big THANK You 

This gratitude comes from those who are present here and from everyone else who could not make it. They remember you. 

Our first introduction with our respected Teachers... was that YOU were our parents when we left our own parents for that time of the day and beyond. 

YOU gave us a secure home( our second home) away from home. 12years prior, we entered the school scared and worried and 12 years later we walked out as grown up boys and girls with these epic memories that we have cherished for 20 long years. 

We were lost where to go at first day of school, we left leaving memories at each corner of school.

We still can't forget the competition, sports day , colourful annual functions , picnics our secret hideout and most memorable our scary results day !! 

Every year going to new class n getting new teacher , may it be first to second or 11th to 12th the anxiety remained same!!! 

The fun of recess time, exchanging our breakfast n at times eating under beach during the classes makes us happy but also brings tears in eyes.

Two years ago we planned for THIS BIG DAY .... n today we r all together....the bees saal baad gathering.....( speech written when I was in ICU)

*************

Thanks so much dear friends for sharing your thoughts here and making it a special place. A place where I can return to from no matter where I go.

I also want to share the messages of our teachers that were sent on Whatsapp, I don’t want those precious blessings to be lost in the plethora of messages we receive daily so I am preserving them here forever.

*************

Meena madam: 

It gives immense pleasure to see that our children have become so matured and understanding that they can take up any and every challenge in life. May God give them all the success and happiness they dream of. I am sure their children will also make them feel proud just as they have made us feel proud. May God bless them for everything.

Verma madam :

Thanx a lot to all students for very very lovely and memorable reunion. It was fun. Lots and lots of blessings to everyone who took pain to organize it in such a great way.

Joshi madam :

Yesterday Pranjal & co' s performance was " super she bhi upar ". Thanks a lot. God bless you all.

J R Desai Sir:

I didn't realize that you care so much. Athithi devo bhavo. Great job done by students for reunion, I was very happy to sit continuously for 4 to 5 hours and wanted to see more. But eventually when Niranjan completed his speech and I saw my watch I was surprised. I said to myself wow it was too fast to complete.

Jeevani Sir:

My dear little friends, " program me bahot Maja aaya that, Lekin ham sab ne ese mil liya etnese na chale, aap sab Ko mera request he ki jab bhi jisko time mile milne aya karoge to muje bahot achha lagega" may God bless u all.

Kusum Madam:

Dear students,

Thank you for everything ... showing love & respect, delicious food, gift...

Rekha Madam: 

Pranjal very well organised function. Thanks for everything. You all put lot of effort and are so good in this. It was perfect. not bored. I felt personally that you all become students .it was great fun. Bless you.

*************

In the end I just want to say, it was an experience for lifetime. An experience that connected us not only to our long-lost friends and teachers but also to ourselves.

And as that day is receding day by day, slipping into some unknown realm I am trying hard to hold on to whatever I can and you know what it is; memories. 

"Beyond Secrets" Available for Free Download - 21st to 22nd September'17



Dear Friends,

I have received an overwhelming response to my blog and book in the last few days. I am grateful for all the love and am sending a small token of thanks your way. You can get my book for free for two days starting today. Here is the link to download the book -  https://www.amazon.in/dp/B0752CNY9N

No worries if you don’t have Kindle device. You can read it on your phone by following 3 simple steps. (You need to have an Amazon account to get the book. It's easy to create one if you don't have it already.

3 SIMPLE STEPS TO GET THE BOOK ON YOUR PHONE

1) Click on this link: https://www.amazon.in/dp/B0752CNY9N
2) Select "Buy Now" or "Buy for Free"  (There will be also an option "Read for free"- It is for people who have subscribed to Kindle Unlimited so you may not be able to buy from there)
3) Follow the instructions thereon

OR

1) Install Kindle App on your phone
2) Search for "Beyond Secrets" by Alka Dimri Saklani in your Kindle App.
3) Select "Buy Now" or "Buy for Free"

If you want to learn more about the book you can visit: https://www.alkadimrisaklani.com/books

And I am willing to accept return gift😉. Show me some love and leave an honest review on Amazon after reading the book; the best gift I can ever receive. Every review fuels my passion for writing and connects me with the person reading my words. And yes, you are most welcome to share the article and help me spread the word.

Keep reading, keep connecting.
Love,
Alka

LIFE IS A BOX OF MEMORIES

Life is a box of memories, each in the form a butterfly. And I have named almost every butterfly.

The butterflies named childhood are the most colourful. They are in plenty; whenever they spread their wings they adorn my present. They gift me a smile. Every single time. But day by day they are flying out of my reach, returning to their origin. I wonder where those moments are right now; must be stored somewhere, maybe in some unknown dimension of universe yet to be discovered. As those butterflies fly away the myriad of colours in the box of my life is decreasing, but still I have a lot to boast of.

The butterfly named youth has a plethora of shades ranging from bright to dull, dark to light, intense to mild. Some are heavier than others. Some are closely attached to others, they fly in groups, I can’t see them one at a time. They all come together and then when they leave, they leave behind a trail of raw emotions. Emotions that tell a story, some complete, some incomplete.

There are countless butterflies from different phases of life. It is impossible to name them all. Some I didn’t name deliberately and some just wished to be free from any category. And sometimes I like nameless things. Kind of strange but it’s true. I like nameless relations, nameless emotions, nameless aspirations. It keeps us away from scary reality and liberates in a strange way.  

Some butterflies just flew out of my reach though I tried to chase them and then there are those stubborn ones who are not ready to move an inch. They stay hidden in a deep corner as if afraid to face the present, as if scared time will steal them if they resurface. Though they are so strong that they can conquer the present if they soar up. I wonder if they have signed a life time contract for that little space in the box.

And this forces me to wonder what kind of butterflies I am creating in my present. Are they colourful? Are they stubborn or weak? In future will they gift me a smile? Or tears? Are they enough to decorate my box when the older ones fly away?

By the way, how many butterflies are there in your box? Are there any stubborn ones? I am sure there are.

‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’ 

PS - To read a free sample of my novel "Beyond Secrets" click here

DESTINY

Title of the story – Life
Level of completion – 37% (Well that’s my age and for the % to be accurate I assume I will live for 100 years)
Author – Destiny

Hey wait. That’s not all about the book. There is a co-author as well.

Destiny wrote a pretty beginning, some sweet- sour moments and some bumpy rides in the story of my life.

Sometimes when the darkness was scary and I was helpless to create light I wrote patience and hope and I kept moving, just moving, like writing meaningless lines in the journal of life. When the light finally shone, I found meaning in those meaningless lines. Nothing is meaningless. When destiny was writing pain, naively, I was writing strength as if in coded words, that was decoded, step by step, as I crawled out of the darkness towards the light.

Sometimes my efforts failed in keeping a relationship or faith or a desire but it was just end of a chapter, not my life. I wrote a new chapter with new perspectives. There were new paths to be discovered and new aspirations to be chased. Though sometimes I turn the pages and delve into the chapters that ended abruptly, but then soon I move out. When destiny showed me a full stop, I fought with it to turn it to a comma.

Sometimes I was amazed and angry and sad with the decisions of destiny. I thought life was unfair and I only had questions. But far off answers were there, hidden beyond the layers of time and piece by piece the jigsaw puzzle pieces fell in place. I still have questions, but I know answers are there, may be far off, may be in the last chapters. May be. But, I am sure answers are there. And I will carve the path till I reach there.

Sometimes I write a dream and destiny rubs it off. I stare the empty page, oops sorry, the rubbed off page; oh, the difference between an empty page and page that is rubbed off, the wrinkled page. I straighten the wrinkles and write again and again and again. There are dreams that finally defeated destiny and some that I am still rewriting. I have lost the count, how many times that dream has been rubbed off but I am still rewriting, so it’s not the end yet. Yes, its tiring, very tiring but I have enough ink in my pen yet. The ink of hard work and faith. I won’t let it dry.

Destiny is the author of my life. True. But in bits and pieces, I add in my part. As destiny bestows on me myriad of situations I try to weave a story that is beautiful.
So, to complete the description of the story,

Co-author of the story called life: Me

PS. The quote at the beginning is from my novel "Beyond Secrets". You can read a sample here.

BEYOND SECRETS - My second novel is published.

I am extremely excited to announce the release of my second novel “Beyond Secrets”. The book is available on Kindle. Don't have Kindle device? No worries, you can download the kindle app on your phone, tablet, or computer and enjoy the book.

Want a glimpse of the description? See below.

Noel is a counsellor, risking his career for volunteering in an orphanage.

Nidhi is an engineering student on the surface, but deep down a broken girl in search of some unanswered questions.

Appu is a sweet little orphan, unaware of the cruelties of the world.

Despite being miles apart their stories interweave in “Aashiyana”, the orphanage. Their little journey together changes their lives in ways they never imagined.

One recurring nightmare, one unexpected phone call, one stolen diary, many lies and secrets, and a calling from the past are just the highlights. And when they depart, they are not the same anymore.

They didn’t hurt each other, it was a game of destiny. Will they ever be able to rediscover themselves and more importantly, will their paths ever cross again?

Beyond Secrets is a novel with layers of suspense and different nuances of relationships. And one question that can’t have just one answer - How long does it take for a scar to heal?

Join the journey of Noel, Nidhi and Appu and don’t forget to tell me your views.

You can buy the book from here.

PS. My first novel “45 Days in a Cancer Hospital” was longlisted for Crossword Book Award 2013.

पीछे रह गए वो दिन...

माँ कहती है हम नींद में मुस्कराते थे

बहुत पीछे रह गए वो दिन जब ख्वाब हमें परियों के आते थे

ज़िन्दगी मुस्करा के दामन में भरी थी

छोटी छोटी ख्वाइशों में खुशियां बड़ी थी

धीरे धीरे न जाने कब ख्वाइशें बढ़ती रही

न जाने कब वो खुशियां सिमटती रही

बहुत पीछे रह गए वो दिन जब एक चॉकलेट से हम खुश हो जाते थे

बहुत पीछे रह गए वो दिन जब ख्वाब हमें परियों के आते थे

एक पल में लड़ाई दूसरे में सुलह थी

शिकवों के लिए कहाँ दिल में जगह थी

रिश्ते मज़बूत हुआ करते थे, अहम् कमज़ोर

न जाने कब बढ़ सा गया मन में उस अहम् का शोर

बहुत पीछे रह गए वो दिन जब एक पल में रूठे दूसरे में मन जाते थे

बहुत पीछे रह गए वो दिन जब ख्वाब हमें परियों के आते थे

माँ कहती है हम नींद में मुस्कराते थे

बहुत पीछे रह गए वो दिन जब ख्वाब हमें परियों के आते थे

Chase Your Dreams

The biggest agony of our life is that we focus more on shortcomings rather than blessings. I wasted a lot of years of my life cursing my limitations. I was a basketball player and I believe I was good at it, but my height acted as a roadblock and I left my passion. Though now I know my height was not the reason for my failure, my self-belief was.

I was introduced to the above quote by Richard Bach long after I gave up playing basketball. And the woman who enlightened me with these words is Ms. Shefali Kapoor, owner of Vijay Computer Academy. She grew up between narrow-minded people who cursed her and her two younger sisters just for being girls, for their incapability of carrying further their father’s name. Well, she didn’t anyhow wish to carry her father’s name to the next generation; she dreamt far beyond that. She opened a computer academy with meagre resources. There were times destiny didn’t support her, but never for a moment she faltered. For she firmly believed if god has given her a desire, he must have given her the power to achieve it. Her passion demanded sleepless nights, tiring days, countless sacrifices and yet faced many failures, but she didn’t give up. Her strong will finally change the course of destiny and success followed. The academy which was named after her father “Vijay” has now its wings worldwide. Her father’s name has not only survived but honoured.

Her words have since been my friend, philosopher and guide. They hold me up every time I am about to give up. Though the passion of being a basketball player had withered long before I met her, I have dreams that if I share, I will be called crazy. Well, I like being called crazy is a different point. When dream becomes passion, it forces you to push your boundaries, your comfort zone and much more. It gives soul to life. A week, a month, a year, a decade, let it take what it does, but chase it until you achieve it.

Pic : Link

I connected with the above quote so deeply that it became a part of my belief system. Then there are quotes that touch us, but the words slip by our memory just like that. I wonder what words can do to us. It can alter our personality, so we need to wisely choose what we read. And carve the precious ones in our character.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Healing

Photo credit - Animesh Nautiyal

I am not afraid of the scars

I know they will fade away

I am worried about the feelings

That will be erased along the way

LIFE AND IT’S STRANGE WAYS

This is the story of a dear friend. I met her in my college days. Sorry, I can’t reveal her name for obvious reasons.

A boy proposed her when she was in school, in eighth grade. She refused, as they were just kids, moreover love marriages were a taboo in her orthodox family. But the boy was persistent. He did all the filmy things to win her, even gave her love letter written with blood. Yeah, that’s crazy, I know. It became impossible for a sweet little innocent girl to not fall for a smart, intelligent boy who wouldn’t stop trying. So, one day, still confused, she accepted his proposal. Well, accepted is not even the right word. She half accepted it.

She said they were too young and must wait till they reach a marriageable age. Then they can discuss it with their respective families, but till then they will be just friends. Sort of #halfgirlfriend thing. Though, at that time, there existed no such word. Time passed and their bonding grew, but being a part of an orthodox family the girl could somehow never convince herself for love marriage. In those times using a word like boyfriend in front of parents was no less dropping a grenade on them. After about 8 years of their friendship, she wrote a letter that was so long it could compete with a novella. She wrote it over days, capturing her tangled emotions in pages over pages, asking for a break up. Long back a love letter written with blood united them and years later a letter burdened under the weight of a responsible daughter departed them. He broke up. Though she had asked for it, but still him accepting the break up broke her and she used to cry for hours. I still remember once we were travelling in bus and the song played in the background “dil deta hai ro ro duhai kisi se koi pyaar na kare” (heart is in pain and pleads not to fall in love). she cried for hours listening to that song. Till date, whenever I hear that song her face clouds my memory.

Soon she shifted to another city because of her father’s job transfer. We couldn’t talk much after that since there were no mobiles and internet wasn’t easily available. After a few years, she invited me to her marriage. I couldn’t gather the courage to ask if she was happy or if she still missed her old friend. I congratulated her and wondered if her old friend knew this or not? And if yes, how he must feel? I think a lot, even about people I have never met. May be that’s the reason I get the answers, sometimes even years later.

Years passed, and I joined a firm where I met a man whose name was same as that of the boy I am talking about. Thoughts of my friend cluttered my mind as I was being introduced to him. As soon as I was back to my cabin I checked his file. (A benefit of being in HR Dept. You can access all employee files.)

I checked his resume.

Same surname

Same school
Same year of passing
Married

And the file fell from my hand. It was odd, because my friend was married and it was wrong to expect he was still unmarried. A thousand thoughts cluttered my mind and the most prominent one was does he still remember her? Well, again the answer awaited me.

Our office was on outskirts of the city and one day I missed my office bus, so the same colleague offered me lift. I had no choice but to take the offer of the gentleman. When he started talking I was surprised for I never knew he was so talkative. He talked about his wife and kids.

And then…

He spoke about school. He said “I had such wonderful friends in school. One was so special”

And there was a sudden pause as he was lost in some other world. I got my answer.

Life has its strange ways. They both are at happy places, faithful to their respective partners, somewhere still preserving the precious moments lost in time. I was a witness to a beautiful story that unfolded bit by bit and I got all my answers. Answers that told me separation is not always a sad ending. Love is not only about marriage. It is about a bond that connects two people beyond time and place.

I was inspired to write this post after watching trailer of the upcoming Hindi romantic film Half Girlfriend. It is based on the novel of the bestselling author “Chetan Bhagat” and has a fabulous star cast of Arjun Kapoor and Shraddha Kapoor.

The trailer successfully captures the confused mind of today’s youth. Friend or girlfriend? Sometimes people are unsure what they want. Their priorities waver between society and love, ambitions and relationships. And a havoc is created when one is sure and the other is not, what exactly happens here. Our smart but non-English speaking Madhav falls in love with the sexy and suave Riya, who is unsure of her relationship with Madhav. And hence starts the roller coaster of emotional ride that pulls you to the extremes of joy and then drags you to the depths of pain. The passion in the eyes of the hero is what I liked the most. The surety, the commitment, dipped in a wave of pain – it always attracts me and so it did this time. The movie looks promising and I will join their roller coaster ride as soon as it hits the theatre on 19th May. What about you?

“I am sharing a Half relationship story at BlogAdda in association with #HalfGirlfriend”

Living Life #MoreIndianThanYouThink

“Censor board” is what my dear friends nicknamed me in college. Their reason was valid, no curse words or dirty jokes were allowed in my presence. Well, they were considerate, else they would have called me behenji (a girl whose conservatism borders on being orthodox). I laugh at that now. Though my thoughts have undergone major metamorphism over the years, but at the core, I have changed little. Temples still attract me more than pubs. Family is priority over everything, including my career. At parties, mine is the only glass filled with soft drink clinking between dozen wine glasses, and sadly it annoys a few friends. Sometimes, I am the only one crying at an emotional scene in a movie.

I thought I was one of the endangered species on the verge of extinction. So, before my nightmare could come alive I wrote my debut novel “45 days in a cancer hospital”. The protagonist is a simple girl who is shy, smart, sensitive, resourceful, helpful and humble; in short, she is Indian. She is an author who stays in a cancer hospital to write real life stories of cancer patients, but is intrigued by the mysterious death of patients. Going out of the way she solves the mystery of prematurely dying patients. There is also a love story interwoven (sorry, no cheesy scenes). The book got longlisted for Crosswords Books Award 2013. It was a proud moment for me since my debut novel was longlisted for such a prestigious award.

I was overjoyed as people still love stories revolving around Indian values. I don’t belong to endangered species as there are many people #MoreIndianThanYouThink around the globe. Sharing and representing Indian traditions, stands with me and every Indian, Lufthansa, a German airline that is #MoreIndianThanYouThink. Right from the moment you enter the flight an Indian aura surrounds you. A sweet voice welcomes you with a “Namaste”. Indian flight attendants with well-versed Hindi will be there to assist you throughout the journey.

Garam chai awaits you once you get seated. Yeah, seriously! The drink without which our day remains incomplete and the lack of which can even cause us headache. Fresh aromatic Indian food will make you feel at home.

After a refreshing hot meal, you can indulge in Bollywood blockbusters, Indian radio channels and Hindi newspapers.

And finally, when your destination arrives you can only wish the journey lasted a little longer.

Can’t believe? Watch the below video where the coach instructs his cricket team to act like Indians, to win over them; think, relax, eat, walk, and even dance like Indians. So, when they fly, they fly like Indians, in Lufthansa airlines, and of course, they enjoy it.

I am sure, now you are intrigued to know more about Lufthansa airlines. You can visit http://bit.ly/2oQTj8q to learn more about them.

Words or Silence? (A WOW Post for Blogadda)

Pic :Link

I have just 9 more months – Komal thought, staring at her engagement ring. It was a special day, but somehow it failed to fulfil her expectations. Everyone complimented her expect Pravin, the man to whom she was engaged. Though she found him staring with appreciation, but she expected a word or two. Her apprehensions haunted her once again. “I have just 9 more months, to stay with my parents, to live my life as I wish, before getting married to a stranger, about whom I know nothing” she thought. His resume only spoke of his age, job and other silly details that might interest a future employer not a life partner. She wanted to know him as a person. His likes, his dislikes, his passions. Lost in her thoughts she soon drifted to sleep.

Next day as soon as she reached office her friends gathered around her.

So, what happened after the ring ceremony, I mean after we left – teased a friend

Hand holding or more than that – teased the other

She forced a smiled and changed the topic, she had nothing to share. All the time she was surrounded by relatives and Pravin didn’t make any excuse to talk with her in private.

Days leaped to weeks and weeks to months. Being in the same city they met a few times. Pravin wasn’t as introvert as she thought but still he was a serious guy. She envied her friend Shweta, whose fiancé was romantic and always surprised her with flowers and surprise visits. Komal craved such surprises from Pravin but it never happened, they never talked over phone for hours. Initially it was difficult to talk to him, but then she started talking about her day, her silly thoughts and her crazy dreams. He would smile now and then and reply in a word or two, but nothing more than that. As time passed, they opened a little. He talked about his family, friends, his dreams and sometimes he would give her a friendly hug. He was a gentleman. She respected him, but love was still a question.

One day in office Shweta was crying in the washroom.

“Hey Shweta, what happened?” – Komal asked wondering why should she cry when she has such a wonderful fiancé.

“My fiancé eloped with someone else.” Shweta said in between her sobs.

“What? How is that even possible? He loved you so much.” Komal exclaimed.

“Well, this is what he said. Words are sometimes meaningless. I wished he was faithful rather than romantic.” Shweta said and left.

Komal stood there for long deciphering her words. Being a sensitive person she couldn’t concentrate on her work anymore and took half day leave.

“Pravin, can you imagine how low Shweta must feel, when I am feeling this bad for her.” She wanted to vent out her feelings.

“Don’t worry, she will be fine.” Pravin said tersely.

“My parents are not home and I am feeling low.” She said expecting to hear a few fancy words.

“You are thinking too much. Just go out for a while, you will feel better. Now listen, I have an important meeting in an hour and I need to prepare for it.”

“Ok” her voice hinted disappointment, but he didn’t realise.

She gulped down a painkiller and dozed off.

Her sleep was broken by loud bangs on the door. Startled, she rushed to the door. A thousand thoughts revolved as she opened the door.

Pravin was standing at the door, a disturbed look on his face.

“Where is your mobile?” his tone was uneven and before she could answer, he hugged her like never before.

And as she was enveloped in his rough arms she was confused and shocked but most importantly she felt connected. The hug spoke a thousand words he failed to say.

“What…why…I mean what happened”. She fumbled for words.

He freed her from his embrace and suddenly the panic in his voice changed to anger.

“Where is your mobile?” his voice shook the very core of her soul.

“Under the pillow. It’s on silent mode,” she said. “But what happened? And why are you’re here? You had an important meeting.”

“Go and check your phone,” he said sternly.

She rushed inside and checked her phone. There were 25 missed calls from him and a text – where are you, please pick up the phone.

She rushed outside in confusion, but he was gone. Without any explanation. She called him and all he replied was “Rushing to office, I have missed an important meeting. Call you later.”

Confusion brewing on her face, Komal saw a neighbour running in tension.

“What happened Mahesh Bhai?” she inquired.

“A bus met with an accident at the entrance of our society, it hit a girl who must be about 25 years old, she was driving a white scooty. She is seriously injured and admitted in hospital. The bus finally crashed over a wall and many passengers got injured. The news is over all channels.” He said and left.

A girl of 25, white scooty, her society… oh, so that’s why Pravin came rushing over, leaving his important meeting.

That was the precise moment, she fell in love with him. He was like that, not good with words, maybe to the extent of weirdness, but then wasn’t she weird in her own ways? And she remembered her friend’s words. Words are sometimes meaningless. I wished he was faithful rather than romantic. A man like Pravin. She knew “I love you” was not a statement she was going to hear often, she would miss all the surprises and long chats. But then she would be protected, cared for and of course loved.

And precisely 9 months after her engagement Komal got married to the stranger, oh sorry the person she loved, her soulmate.

‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

Beauty

Yay its story time–little Shreya chuckled, lying cozily in her mother’s lap. “Today I want to hear story of snow white”.

Mumma smiled and started the story “There was this pretty girl who was fair as snow, soft as cotton and the prettiest girl in the world"… and the story went on…

Next day started as usual with Shreya's laughter echoing in the morning but things changed when she returned from school.

“I was again not selected for the drama.” She said dully removing her shoes. “Hmmm but then the princesses need to be fair and pretty which I am not so I guess mam did the right thing.” and she went to wash her hands.

Mumma stopped short in her work. Shreya’s words echoed in her mind for a long time. She wondered who planted these measures for beauty in these innocent minds. Aren’t we all responsible? These measures are so deeply rooted in our minds that knowingly or unknowingly we all become ambassadors of false notions of beauty. Tall, fair, slim -are these the notions of beauty? Really? The models showcased in the flimsy cover pages looking no less than the snow white aren’t flawless themselves. The dab of makeup and the photoshopped images must scare them to come to limelight with their natural beauty. Why are we chasing illusions? She decided she won’t let her daughter chase an illusion and will clear the clutter from her innocent mind.

Today she was waiting more than Shreya for the story time. And as the night crawled in, she was ready with a new story.

“So today I will tell you a different story” she said, cuddling Shreya closer in her arms.

Wow… Shreya chuckled

“This is a story of a girl”

“Who was fair as snow” Shreya said before her mother could complete the sentence.

Mumma smiled and shook her head.

“No, she was dusky and chubby."

“Oh, so she wasn’t pretty like snow white.” Shreya was disheartened.

“I didn’t say that. She was dusky and chubby, and pretty in her own way….” And the story went on.

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Beauty has no parameters. It can be...

    

With all its extremes isn’t mother nature beautiful. It nurtures all extremes will equal love and care and even we appreciate nature in all its form, then why this bias for our own tribe? Why we try to confine beauty in restricted standards. May be because the false parameters are so deeply rooted in our mind that it has become a part of our belief system. It's time to shed them. Beauty is immeasurable and undefinable. Let's celebrate the vividness of our existence and appreciate beauty in all its forms.