The Talking Water

  Bits of paper, bits of paper, falling down, falling down, make the place untidy, make the place untidy…. PICK THEM UP, PICK THEM UP! I remember this particular nursery rhyme very well as we all tiny tots used to literally do the actions corresponding to each word of the poem. After schooling, I thought I was a grown up and didn’t need to practice that poem anyway so I conveniently forgot the latter part of the poem and then what happened was that the whole nation was flooded with crap.! How can I make my home the best place to live, with the best architecture, with the cleanest floors and corners and the most impressive aroma? I don’t know how others ( of foreign nations) think about the same, but I know for a very good reason how my country people would react to such a question or what would be their side of the solution (which actually has just one side!).  WE The People,  believe that our duty to clean our surroundings and maintain the sense of hygiene...

Overflowing garbage bins and drains (if hypothetically the municipal corporation provides with the same!), public defecation, spitting betel leaves’ extracts commonly known as paan in any possible direction almost anywhere, parking a bike or a car in the very symmetrically centre of a road, playing a practical road-rash game without consideration of any vulnerable passer-by , undisciplined traffic, honking unnecessarily, absence of footpaths on main roads for pedestrians, obscene graffiti on walls, etc., etc. are a common sight in India. No city, no town, no village has been able to fight these. Insensitiveness about their surroundings has crippled the citizens so horrendously that they continue their daily chores nonchalantly amidst the chaotic muck and mess all around them. Ghastly, no kidding! Almost all around the world India has made itself a gigantic laughing stock and “ We the people…” are quite proud of the same , it seems! If we compare ourselves with our competitor...

"One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood." -Lucius Annaeus Seneca There a more than a thousand quotes and good reads on friendship written by great philosophers, speakers, thinkers and all noble men. The Bollywood fraternity has plethora songs written and sung on friendship which touch are hearts and are always on our lips. The reason I started with this particular phrase is because the ability to understand each other in a relation is not just a beautiful quality but it is indeed the most important prerequisite of friendship. Unless the roots of understanding are not deep inside the soil of love and care, people can be easily blinded by things like misunderstanding and communication gap. Trust can be said as the strong fence inside which can blossom the garden of true friendship. Another important feature of friendship is the  mutual agreement  not by force but by choice. It is very important to put your hear...

Mahatma Gandhi had quoted, “If I had no sense of humour, I would long ago have committed suicide.” He had a more positive approach towards what he said. Even after being agonized and denigrated in South Africa as well as in colonial India, he had his wit and grit with him for good. He was a noble man after all out of his action and thought. However, the father of the nation did not at all influence the young blood, it seems. The young blood is getting squandered in the most despairing way. I am talking about nation’s grave situation due to the increasing suicidal attempts being made in our country’s youth. Shocking, Painful, yet true. Wikipedia states that the suicide rate in India has been varying as in 2010 studies showed 187,000 suicidal cases while official data constituted of 134,000 of the same. The variation is of some thousands but that’s the mocking truth. World Health Organisation stated that India contributes on an average about 15% of suicidal cases in the w...

Like an Ocean I grew, Reticent yet Victorious Hello everyone! I am Asawari, hailing from Bhopal (that has invariably been infamous for its Gas Tragedy History and many don’t even know where to mark it in a map) which basically means that I’m a small town girl. Having said that, I would also say that I totally love my city and it has a very pleasant character of its own. But here, I would not praise about my birth city but would like to throw some light from my torch, on a city that helped me groom myself in all possible ways. Mumbai, ‘the city of dreams’, as it has been quoted legendarily. People walk into the city filled with expectations and hope so as to fulfil their dreams and wishes. I too came with a dream to get famous, to achieve something notable, and to accomplish something that makes my parents proud of me. I came into this gigantic city like a small country mouse, knowing nothing about the city or about its people. However, I was well-equipped with a lot of energy ...

The dew drop on the white orchid leaf The lovely hanging odour of wet mud in breeze The pleasantly chilly water at the bay A latent calling, for a different day. A day of turning back to watch All lovely days of the past A day to forget the speech of substance Out of all tedious days, a day of remembrance. A day to hear a brook gurgle by A day to feed the pigeons. A day to watch sunset at the beach, A day of going far beyond the reach. When WE were superior to I or ME When emotions were blindly set free. When there wasn't fear of letting oneself down When it was easier to imagine a fantasy-town. Times when nothing was evident, Everything a surprize. When stupidity-cocktail was on-the-rocks And nobody came out to be wise. Times of a cricket match Or a game of badminton. Times of lame excuse getting caught Scolding and getting beaten. A day to remember all those good times, When life was Salsa not Waltz When everyone was real not fake, When ...

The Ignited Soul                                                                                     By: Asawari  She was beautiful. She was spontaneous. She was eccentric. She was Shaarda. Born and brought up in a small town of Madhya Pradesh called Vidisha, to a decent middle class family, Shaarda was just 5 years of age when she performed in a ladies’ sangeet at her Uncle’s wedding and the applaud she received was abundant. Shaarda, according to Hindu mythology, is the name of the goddess Saraswati, the goddess of art and wisdom. Shaarda was truly living up to her name in every way since childhood. She was fond of music, dance and was always an eye candy of the onlookers. Shaarda was quite a brat in her own charming way. She turned a lot of heads and made a lot...