Stranger in the Mirror

She looked up at me and smiled

I wondered where she had been all this while

As my thoughts ran askew

I said to myself ‘This isn’t you!’


Her eyes lacked the warmth I felt inside

Her defiant face, an epitome of pride.

Long has it been since she’d had to hide

With my more dominant thoughts, she had complied.


‘I would never be like her. Of that much I am sure’

I said to myself aloud

As I slowly turned away

From the stranger in the mirror.

The Valentine Rebels

This story is somewhat of a secret and I don’t think the fellow stakeholder would be too pleased about me revealing this to the world. But here it is anyway!

For as long I can remember, I haven’t been a Valentine’s day kind of person. The extra mush, the fretting over making Valentine’s Day plans, the pathetic depression the single people around you spiral into from not having a date on V-Day, it all managed to make me an ‘anti-Valentine’! Then again, I’ve always disliked stereotypes.

Luckily enough for me, I met my boyfriend (now fiancé) who was cut out from the same cloth, at least when it came to this. After we met, we battled a lot of odds before deciding to be together. And then one day, we decided not to fight it anymore and be together because it’s what we wanted. I say this, not to make you feel sappy or romantic but because the implication of the decision taken that day is what we till today, celebrate as our anniversary day. As this happened I looked at the clock. It was 11:55 pm on the 13th of February!

I pointed this out to him and we were so relieved that we wouldn’t be turning into one of those couples who would be sweating their socks off trying to make Valentine’s Day special! Oh but wait, there’s a twist in the story.

It wasn’t until 2 days after that I realised that the clock in that room was about 7 minutes slow. Oh, the irony of it all! We were going to be one of the couples that had to be part of the heart-shaped candy-box horror! And that’s when we decided, there’s nothing wrong in living 7 minutes ago!

13th February is, in its own little way, our form of being rebels.

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3 Reasons Why I Hate Smalltalk

Okay. So you are at a party/ family function eyeing the waiter with the appetizers every 28 seconds and suddenly a relative appears! And you’re like ‘Where the hell did that come from?’ Now, you have nothing against this said relative. But that Chicken Satay on the tray had looked really good! It’s okay when you are a little kid. You ignore relatives and they just think you’re shy but still adorable, when you’re prancing about like a deer. But as you get older, the words ‘social obligation’ basically put a noose around your neck and put the lever in the hands of the person you’re forced to make small talk with.

Hate is not a word you throw around lightly, but here are 3 reasons I absolutely HATE small talk!

Reason #1: It is pointless

So we’re asking the basic and if you ask me, somewhat violated question that by now almost comes out robotically. ‘How are you?’ About 90% of the times that question is met with words ‘fine’, ‘good’ or associated synonyms, even if it’s a lie because let’s face it, nobody wants to talk about their problems to a person who’s an almost stranger. Also, they too are aware that that question is more rhetorical than sincere.  Very rarely, the answer is ‘not fine’ and then what follows, mostly leads to an awkward uncertain reaction which brings us to reason #2

Reason #2: It is awkward

Once you’ve asked the basic questions, (How are you? How is work? And the ever so popular how are the kids?) There’s nothing much left to say. Now there’s no shame in walking away. But some people just…don’t! They stay; and what ensues are really awkward conversations about the weather and shoes!

Reason # 3: It is boring

On an average at a party, you meet and speak to about 20 people. That’s 20 times that you have to repeat the greetings and questions from the layman’s guide to small talk booklet. What does it do really? It bores. A bunch of superficial answers about people’s lives and jobs and pets, barely interesting enough to hold my attention…ah, there goes my chicken satay!

Now in all this I wouldn’t want you to misconstrue that I discourage good manners. No. Please. Smile. It is powerful. Remember that quote? About a smile being a powerful weapon that can break ice? Make sure to keep it sincere. Maybe point out the waiter with the chicken satay. That’s one way to make sure the opposite person wishes you well. But the endless conversations about the weather..? God, I HATE small talk!

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Unrequited love

‘Tell me about her’
‘She’s really beautiful.’
‘That’s what they all say.’
‘Well, that’s the first thing you notice about someone. Anyone who says otherwise is lying.’
‘What sets her apart?’
‘She has a quality.’
‘A quality?’
‘Yes. Something about her that I can’t take my eyes off. But I also can’t look at her for too long. It’s like I’ll ruin the perfection.’
‘Have you spoken to her?’
‘One time. When she lost her gold locket. I helped look for it.’
‘Did you find it?’
‘No. She did. But she thanked me anyway for helping her look. That made me feel good. Like she’s the kind of person who thinks that even the office aide should be treated well.’
‘Is that a rare quality?’
‘Rarer than you would think.’
‘What happened to her?’
‘She stopped coming to work one day. I was scared. I thought something happened to her.’
‘Had it?’
‘No. She came in a week later.’
‘That must have been a relief.’
‘Not really. She had a diamond ring on her finger. Big and radiant! The kind that can maybe light up a room!’
‘What are you going to do about it?’
‘Nothing. I can’t compete with the diamond ring.’
‘So.. What will you do now?’
‘For what?’
‘To fall out of love. Oh, and find a new job.’

Inspired by- Someone I know

The PlayGround

I feel confused about life and really knowing what my ‘true calling’ is.
This is triggered by the events of the day of course but broadly speaking, it’s fair to say I feel this way.

There are two kinds of dreams. The ones we can follow if we do all the right things and make all the right moves in the path that we’re in.

And then there are those that require us to find ourselves again. The ones that require us to leave behind all that we know and have allowed ourselves to become. The ones that require us to build a new path.

The latter, almost always, gets buried. The first almost always, wins.

We convince ourselves, that what we’ve chosen is for a reason. And that that, is life’s plan for us.

Grow up. Go to school. Choose a field. Your college. Your specialty. Find a job. The fuel to keep life going.  But what happens when you burn all the fuel out and you can’t call for a refill?

How do kids have such uncensored ambitions? Ask a child what he or she wants and you’ll see them delving into the depths of their imagination and pulling out the most vivid professions. Why? Because no one has taught them constraints. Yet.
The world is your playground. Or so they say. But how do you play when you’re not allowed to fall? You choose to be a spectator because it’s safer. Because it guarantees you watching the game from a safe distance.

As you watch the games, you pat yourself on the back for choosing the less scary way.
Until the game ends. Because then you realize that only if you play, do you even allow yourself the chance to take the trophy home!