Udhaar ki aazaadi

Thodi si aazaadi milegi kya?
Khud se, tum se, tilmilaate dil se

Aur internet ke bill se.

Ghisi hui chappal se,

Apne pimple se aur ladko ke dimple se.

Harry ki Sejal se, mantri ke table se

Aur wifi ke cable se.

Aazaadi teen rang ki hi kyu hai.

Laal kyu nahi? Laal par bawaal kyu nahi,

Besharam sa sawaal kyu nahi?

Source : Dna India

Aisi bhi ek aazaadi chahiye

Ki ghadi ke angle se darr na lage,

Andhere me vehshi ke par na lage 

Aur huqumat ke pairo me sar na lage.

Source : Outlook India

70 saal ki umar hai, umar ka asar hai

Ki ya toh rupaye ka keher hai

Ya naazuk umar me kabar hai.

Source: Firstpost

Aur aisi bhi aazaadi kyu na ho

Ki saawan kisan ki aafat na ho jaye,

Ek degree zindagi ki laagat na ho jaye,

Kisi ki bhukhmari kahi ki daawat na ho jaye.

Ab aazaadi mil hi jaaye,

Trolls se, toll se, tol mol se.

Jeete jaane ke jhol se.

Sudhaar se na toh udhaar se sahi

Thodi si aazaadi milegi kya?

Source : The Indian Express


How we messed up love!

There are three kinds of us. Ones,who post heavily romantic stuff, of love and its magic. Seconds,who post stuff about love being a jerk,moh-maaya. Thirds,who are sick of both. Or let me put it this way. Most of us, were Type 1, who became Type 2 and are progressively becoming Type 3. I am very confidently saying this due to sufficiently large sample size. 

From here

To here

We,the millenials, have lived through DDLJ, Salaam Namaste and now OK Jaanu. Our ideas of love have evolved faster than Darwin could ever imagine. Not just ideas,our belief in love has evolved. Vanished. 

To here

Careers. There are Type 1 who are engineers, doctors, lawyers and all the “respectable” professions one could be in. Type 2 who have dared to do unconventional stuff. And Type 3, who wanted to be Type 2, were scared so studied things to be Type 1 but couldn’t fit anywhere. We have grown in the age of extremely high demand of IT people to the rise of careers by making YouTube videos. We have seen the soaring numbers of Cyber Cafe and now revolutions happening by tapping fingers from the couch. 

We are messed up because we,in mere 20-25 years of our lifespan have seen rise and demise of phenomena. We grew in era of deep deep romance where eyes did the talking. We heard with awe Preity Zinta smirk at Hrithik Roshan and asking him to “Ghoomaao-firaao and sugar coat his proposal”.

Iss baat ko zara aur saja ke kehte

Entered a Deepika Padukone who very meticuously directed The Nawab to “Seedhe point pe aao na”

Senti ho mai jaan gayi ab action dikhaao na

And when we still faced defeat in the romantic sphere, these people came with their golden words of wisdom of never falling in love.

What we have ended up becoming? These people. Who fall in love. Who do not know how to deal with love. So we run away. We curse. And then repeat. In this movie ( Shuddh Desi Romance) the eternal lover boy of Bollywood how emphatically exclaimed  “Yaar tum log bhagte bahut ho”

This movie was epitome of our mess.

Now pardon me for being a big time Bollywood buff, but I have seen every reflection of these 22 years in these movies. Or the other way round. There are countless reasons or rather factors to account for the mess but I would rather talk about two.

  • Family structures- The way our families have progressed! For once I would not call most families orthodox. The way the families have accepted the fact that the youngsters have a love life, have breakups, have casual flings- this very open conversational stir has messed up things in the sense that we are no more scared of making mistakes. With transparency, we are most khula saands! 
  • Jaane tu ya jaane na. This Mom!

  • As cliche as it may sound but Internet– 10 msgs ( not messages) per day including the “Hey” text! Saving money for the SMS pack! And now unlimited texts/voice/video calls. Sure the communication has got revolutionized. But so has the respect and anticipation. There is no more excitement in new notifications. Approaching, befriending, intimidating, loving and then avoiding and evading people- it is all happening all the time on the keypads. We have got so much control over the apps that we are losing control. 
  • The player of our times!

Sadly enough, I do not intend to provide any remedies( Not that I have any). I guess we like mess. We like being called messy. We will evolve through this. In what direction, I know not. I just hope,wherever we are, we can still appreciate this.

The lyrics of this song send chills down the spine


"Kismat se tum humko mile ho
 Kaise chhorenge, yeh hath ham na chhorenge
 Tukde dil ke ham tum milke
 Phir se jodenge, yeh shisha phir se jodenge
 Phir se banatee takdiro ko, armaano ko janziron ko
Jaanam abb naa todenge"

(You may listen to this song from movie Pukar, here
Kismat Se Tum Hum Ko Mile (Pukar): http://youtu.be/Uy84AB-5k9k)

Why don't you share your opinions on the same? I'm sure you all have a lot to say.

Happy summer

A semester @ SAU

So I write this as the anticipation of a week long trip is building up so bad inside me that I have long crossed the borders of sanity. In few hours I’ll be off for a wonderful( yeah I know that already) trip. It’s only writing that can contain my levels of excitement as I count the hours to go (Dear fog, please spare my flight). But I had to write this anyway. This just had to be written because I’d choose to fall back on this story for many many years to come. This thing called SAU that has happened to me is a milestone I’ll rejoice every now and then even when wrinkles take over my tiny face. 

The entrance to awesomeness

So while I was at it, giving entrances for admission to masters courses, I had no idea where would I end up. Top priorities somehow were getting sublimed but thank god for a zillion of plan Bs. So I had missed the deadline to fill the SAU form( because I didn’t have money and grace to borrow more) but destiny,my friend,is one hell of a business. The dates got extended and just then cash flew in. Even giving the entrance was not without its share of struggles. I had three submissions the week preceding the entrance and I somehow managed to look past few books of relevance. The results took forever to get announced. And then I was worried about how would I pay the fee but like I said,the destiny business,I got the merit scholarship and my admission was sorted. 

Source: dreamstime.com

I do not really know what I expected out of Biotechnology but it was not the most positive note that I started my masters life with. I was not looking forward to it and a day before the joining in,I was ranting to a friend about how I feel I was not ready for masters. 
But it began. It began and I was awed. Awed and miniaturized. That and awed. The very first day as the faculty members interacted with us, a sudden bubble of positivity bursted out. I immediately felt, there could not be anything more right than me being here at this juncture. The kind of aura each and every professor had was magical. Each class was a revelation. Each class brought a little jolt and made us think a little more . It left us with a thirst for a little more. And even after a hectic maddening semester having two set of indulgent exams, none of the 20 of us would disagree that each class still leaves us as motivated. The first spark of dreaming of becoming a scientist was born. 

My first presentation

The academics were just one side of the story. This was South Asian University. It has students from all the SAARC nations. Barring the initial few days of hesitation, when I now look at my batch( during the practicals,when they are a bit relaxed) I see the Afghanis and Nepalis and Sri Lankans and Pakistanis laughing away at some popular Indian joke. Knowing about cultures was always my indulgence in the background but during these few months I had some of the most enriching conversations on it. Our South Asian studies allowed us to know what being a South Asian means and we now look at borders in slightly better perspectives. We viewed South Asia through the lens of literature,sociology,cinema,politics,economics and law to name a few. 

Biotech squad,freshers party

Stories have dimensions alright. But stories are because of people. People. My favorite field of study. I met some of the weirdest, gentlest and coolest people here. And I found a friend whom I am going to keep for a little longer. Longer than his own wish because he’s meant to be here in my life. He’s my bro,my partner in crimes that I have committed long before we’ve known each other. Our frequencies have matched like crazy and I think that’s because we both like neurobiology. There’s no other way to explain it. Anuvrat,bro you are here to stay. Yeah? 

There are few more people I have  had the privilege to interact with and with there own USPs they hold pretty places in different corners of my heart. Sampreeti, Poornima, Pawandeep, Minhaz, Nidhi, Shilpa, Hasam, Kiruthika it’s been awesome to know you guys. I hope the coming semesters unfold us more.

And of course, Nisha  , she has become my forever. I can see her dancing at my wedding already.

I had my first nighout here. I had my first all-night study here. I’m having my first long trip here. I had my first poster presentation here. I had my first encounter with research papers here. I had my first roaming around at night here. I had my first public game of cricket here. There are few more first that I feel are best safe in wraps. 

First nightout

SAU, you’ve been glorious as of now. I know for sure that the coming three semesters are going to be exponentially better and warmer.
Loads of love beyond any boundary


 Story of a Nothing

When her friend called to ask her about her plans for the evening,she said,”I have to wait for the dark”. She loved the darkness of nights,the dark rooms during the day and the dark cloudy days. Perhaps because darkness means ambiguity and that is what she related to the most. 

With “Mera kuchh saaman” in background,she started to put her room in order,the books back in shelves,the rubber bands back in the drawer,the half read novel beneath the pillow and brushed away some memories. As she then sat down to gulp down water from the bottle,she smelt its rim. “Why does the water from your bottle smell fruity,cherry kind?” “No,nothing of that sort,let me see. Oh it’s my lip balm on the rim. Idiot”. Then on he always smelt the rim of her bottle before drinking water. Unconsciously she started doing the same. Few weeks later,she stopped putting on that lip balm though.

On one of their strolls while they were headed to say goodbye before he left for yet another phase, he bared his out to her. “I have lived alone way too much,and I don’t want it that way for long. I had shut myself up emotionally,because I was broken” . Yet,he said certain things she never understood. “How can I say everything,try to feel na”. What should I feel at least explain that?” . “Nothing”.

Weeks started to pass by and happy memories began to get etched in their hearts. Of roads taken together and stealthy calls and morning texts and baring souls little by little. The long conversations could be easily traced back before falling alseep.

Why did you not text me good morning? Is it nice,to break customs?”

“We make these customs na. This ain’t a religious practice. I woke up late”

” Break customs only when they stop serving purposes so that I get a hint of something wrong.”

“What purpose?”


 She loved ethnic clothes. She loved the jhumkis and bindis and all that jazz. On days that she wore bindi,he would gaze at her a little longer. “What? Why are you staring? Isn’t it in the middle”. “No.”  “Idiot,then fix it”. And he would fix it. At the end of the day when she would look at the mirror,she would find her bindi shifted to the left. “You mean person. It was in the middle. Why did you mess with it? “Nothing”.  And they would giggle past the dinner.

Soon as the distance started taking toll on the long morning texts and the pretty conversations about love and necessities, there were fewer words and longer silences. Deeper pains. No more memories could find their way in the heart and no routes were getting them their strolls back.
I miss you. Why can’t we just admit what’s going in our minds? Why can’t we accept the truth that separation is not meant to be”

“But what is the problem. Everything is alright. I am still the same.”

“No. I don’t see the same person in you now”

“Because you are not the same”



“Itna mehnat kar ke Nothing kyu bolte ho”(Why do put so much effort to say nothing)
The sky grew dark.The song changed to “Lo aa gayi unki yaad”.She could now sit in the balcony and count the number of “Nothings” he gifted her.

Source- wallhd4

In prose,I let you die

In prose,I let you  die
I kill you for I die.
I take you to the cliff
and show you the greens
of dreamy dreams
Pinks of the walls
adorned with our pictures from the cafe.
Black and browns of the
most intense teas and coffees
Yellows of the library
we trusted upon.
And from that cliff
I push you down.
In prose,I kill.
In poetry,you exist.

In prose,I unnerve you.
I pinch to survive.
See through the murals
and the written art.
See through the plays
and the sitcoms.
See through my idea
of you and sunrise.
See through me.
In prose,I veil down.
In poetry,you is me.

In prose,you pour down.
I feel it as you evaporate
into my being.
As I watch you hold your steam
and bestow it upon the cold springs
of unknown romance,
I know you rise into
your abode of positivity.
For in prose,you choose.
In poetry,I divide.


Source- depositphotos.com

To the 15-year old girl

Hey girl,
You look amazing in that dress and them heels. When I was 15,I was wearing polo t-shirts,jeans and ponytail to everywhere. Not that I had many ‘everywhere’s to go. You are going to the clubs and parties. I received a couple of your invites on facebook. I can only imagine how much fun those would be. I just want to ask you,isn’t 15 a bit too early for the clubs? Why do want to see drunk people grooving away and practising infidelty because it’s “cool”,when you should watch Gumrah and know how they suffer? No,I am not judging you. No,I am not jealous since I never got to do what you do. I am actually concerned.



I have been teaching you and many 15 year olds like you for past 2 years to bear my expenses. I see what you do. You take the pain of getting waxed at this age. Doesn’t it hurt? Why do you ‘have to’ do it? Because everyone else is doing it? Because you are otherwise weird? Because you want to impress that guy? You’ve got lovely young skin. I saw you getting facial at a parlour. I see you straightening your hair for school. You,by all means have all the rights to look pretty. But guess what,at your age,you are beautiful and can do without adulteration. Your natural skin is what women in 20s and 30s are dying to have. What is this pressure you’ve taken upon yourself? You’ll have all the time to do it. Right now is the time to beautify your mind and deck up your future. Why don’t you watch career-oriented videos instead of makeup tutorials?



I once asked you about your life goals. You said-“I wanna be an awesome mother to my kids”. I smiled. That’s a wonderful dream. Here at 20,I don’t get to hear that from girls my age or older. So kudos to you . But why don’t you have a goal to achieve for yourself before you become mommy? You and your “boyfriend” both take tuitions from me. You took Science because he did,so you can be together. But last year you said you want to study history,didn’t you? You stopped wearing black because he told you he didn’t like. Why don’t you become YOU before being his girlfriend? You put status  like “You are my life” ” You are my king”, “You are my reason of smiling” and then you put “I’m broken”, “I hate love”. The fact is you might just have no idea about life or love or both. You need oxygen survival. No guy. Never a guy.



No. Don't dream this. Dream to earn it.

I am not judging you again,but what’s the need to get physical at this age? Why don’t you maintain a healthy relationship and make a career and see if you still want to stay with that guy who told you bright colors don’t suit you? Why do you ‘have to’ send him nude pictures or get a tattoo done? Why shouldn’t you want to be a woman of substance whose qualities make her DESIRABLE? What’s this craze about being ‘ACCEPTABLE’?



You needn't feel this at 15

Your FB posts,pictures and whatsapp statuses irritate me first but then they worry me. I know I am sounding preachy but you are way too young for all that you do. I know you’ll learn the game fast and soon. But for that,you need to value yourself and create yourself before mingling in the ‘hep culture’. I am saying because nobody told me. I am there if you need a sister or an agony aunt.

Build your bed of sterner stuff,
Roses may follow.

Your Didi

Songs for July

I am a Hindi songs buff. The typical kinds who plug in earphones and walk on roads as if they are 70s ka heroes contemplating life and losses. A good number of times it is natural but then sometimes there’s acting skill at work. On other times I would be lying on the bed watching TV and get onto 9XM and it plays “Balam Pichkaari” and I’m jumping my way off with wackiest expressions. You get me,right?

I love Hindi poetry and when words get weaved into lyrics then music,that’s magic. I enjoy tracing a song’s backward journey-when it was just a collection of words.
For English songs I am a novice. I caught up on few famous numbers only to survive among people who think English songs and GOT are essentials of existence.

So here I have a list of 10 songs that I have given my heart to this July. Do tell me in the comments section if you like any of these:-

1) Raske bhare tore Nain
  Shafqat Amanat Ali, Satyagraha

This singer injects the words in your blood. If you have listened to ‘Fir le aaya Dil‘ you’ll know what I mean.
Raske bhare…  catches you at the first note. Classical,soulful and perfect chakna to your chai.



2) Nain Parindey
  Shilpa Rao, Lafangey Parindey

You know Shilpa Rao’s husky calming voice from ‘Manmarziyaan‘. She grabs you,holds your nerve and takes you wherever the song goes.And the lyrics work wonders to a dreamy heart.
       “पंख झटक ये उड़ जाएंगे
       सपनों को अपने घर लाएन्गें
       मगरूर बडे मतवारे नैन
        नैन परिन्दे पगले दो नैन”


3) A Certain Romance:-
   Arctic Monkeys

I got introduced to this phenomenon called Arctic Monkeys very recently(what a pity!). What I loved about them is that they know the things they do are not supposed to be that way.They do it nonetheless. And so wonderfully. This particular song,I love it for the guitar and bass. Lyrics secondary.

4) Saawan Bairi:-
   Rahat Fateh Ali Khan, Commando

Monsoon. Rahat Saab. Sigh.
I have come along to admire Mayur Puri as a lyricist. He is so versatile. Does the peppy numbers as good as the deep ones. This song has some really passionate and power phrases and intimidating imagery.
   “छू लू जो, तुझे छू लू तो,
     खुद को ही चुभ जाऊं”



5) Mere Piya Gaye Rangoon
  Shamshaad Begum, Patanga

There’s no way you do not recall her when you think “Retro”. The millenial kids would know the remixes of her songs with the dance steps. That also introduced us to Deepal Shaw,Barkha Bisht, Sophie Chaudhary, Tanushree Dutta. This song has all it takes you tickle your funnybones.

Oh and here we are,dancing it off 😛

6) Million Years Ago:-

There are days when I have played this song for hours on loop. There’s melancholy,there’s nostalgia and there’s an attitude to it. Each single line telling a story of its own.
   “Learning to run
    I let my heart decide the way
    When I was young
    Deep down I must have always
    That this would be inevitable


7) Sau Tarah Ke
    Jonita Gandhi, Amit Mishra Dhishoom  

You don’t listen to this song. You watch it. Because,Jacqueline. How could somebody look so so sensuous and cute the same time? That’s teaching. The song is mean,peppy and a for sure entry to party albums this year.



8) Woh pehli baar

Shaan means old school romance to me. His voice is love. He breathes soft magic to words. And this song has an absoulte charm about it;takes you to the lala land.

9) Behke behke nain
    Anushka Manchanda,Aisha

Have you heard this song? No? Do it on priority. Maybe they do jazz on such music. The music just matches pace with your heartbeat and then raises it and plays around. Anushka’s voice is sexy. That would still be an understatement. And Sonam looks like a dream in it.


10) Awari
      Soch,The Band. Ek villain

The word Awari itself does something to thoughts. The music is enticing. Lyrics so deep and painful,you almost cry. And Prachi Desai. Sigh.




As the night descends

It’s 7:30 in the evening. The sun has gone down and there is an after taste of the light. Enough light to see people move. Enough to watch trees sway to the mild breeze. Not enough to call a place my own and succumb in there for the night. It has been a rainy day. My favourite kind,yeah. And I spent my time till the afternoon out there in the city because I had been longing to do that and because the dryness inside was mind numbing. I spent the morning treading on the Lodhi Road and finding Jamuns from trees. The rain continued. The umbrella was only a means to act sane. I then grabbed a lunch in Satya Niketan with a friend.


On the Lodhi Road



Satya niketan cafe(Canteen)

As I now watch the evening turn dark,I want to remember how I felt yesterday. Or the day before. This is probably the most excruciatingly painful(to say the least) bunch of months I have seen. You know how you have a certain belief that this is just a little phase but then it stays. You feel that it is abnormal and unfit and it would go. But it stays. It stays to become the normal and all your optimism gets convicted.

Relationships are a muddle. An oreo mud cake. Some parts crunchy,some gooey,some sweet,some sweeter,some having the tad bit bitterness of the dark chocolate. But there in your soul,they are satisfying. You are always so full and yet there is room for more. I had known relationships in no other way. But in past few months I have seen them turn one flavour of bitter. No matter how much love they are fed they have turned resistant. Worsened. That’s not even the worst part. To see the happiest hearts come and utter words of despair on my shoulder,is probably the most disappointing feeling ever.

The nights as they progress bring dreams or not. The relationships as they lopside sure do break them. To see ruthlessness,insensitivity,egoistic battles all around you all the time,makes you all but thirsty for love. That denied,wraps it all up.

Could I call the night my own? Have you ever? Hasn’t it always been there for you? Days bring so many emotions and people to us but on most nights we are solitary dreamers. Nights serve as a travel bag where we pack everything that we owned,or were gifted or took as a memoir. But that bag,is solely ours. I do wish to call the night sky mine for I can whisper away everything to it.

The dilemma however is,would it be the same sky tomorrow morning? Would the whispers linger around or come back to me?

I so wish none of you have ever felt this.

Love and hope


The sky from where I see

For the love of love

I love love. Love in any form. And I believe that the easiest magic to create and find is love. Watch your mother smile,just goddamn give that brother a glass of water,call your best friend(ok give a missed call) and ask him if he’s fine and end up talking about a silly crush you had few years ago,watch the sky build up clouds,listen to kids talking among themselves when one thinks he can explain the intricacies of terrorism to the other and goes about describing devils and angels..There’s love everywhere. At times I have found love when I have been scolded for being lazy and rather than reverting back I have foolishly smiled at all the wonderfully cuss woven words thrown at me. I don’t know why but if there’s one thing I really wish to accumulate and spend throughout my life,it just has to be love.

I have been told that I go overboard with that and I end up messing things. To which I have no answer. Honestly I have messed up only once in life and that remains the most glorious mess I could ever imagine to exist in my life. Here’s the quirk-The cause and cure of that mess was love yet again. Thankfully,it is all sorted now. All the other times,I do not want to call them messy. I surely have lost people. Some may even have grudges against me(though I don’t hold any). I have given crazy amount of love and importance to people who do not even reply properly if I text now. But somehow that fails to hold me back. I still text them few days later to ask if they’re fine. There was a time when I texted out of love and in return I got cold,harsh,demeaning replies of a headstrong narcissist. That couldn’t stop me from letting him know that I still think of him(although I mended my ways). At times I want to question myself,as in, “Hello Archi,woman do you have any form of self value?”. But isn’t it a life too short for talking to ourselves only and not letting ourselves loose to love?

However,yesterday as I talked to a friend( whom I valued way too much at a time and he just didn’t get it so he had mastered the art of being rude) I realized that something is flawed in the whole concept of love these days. Here we are talking about the Man-Woman love. The romantic and everlasting kind of love. So as my friend and I kept talking,I suddenly began to feel negated. I asked him about his love life and he told me he’s looking for someone of his caste. I pointed out that for someone who has had impressive education and is doing well,this is a little baffling search. So I told him that ultimately compatibility matters. To which he said that compatibility can be built with time but if while dating he actually wants to take things forward,being of same caste would help. Rather disturbed,I wished him luck and good night. (what else could i say anyway).


But I couldn’t really sleep. Something was not right in how he was seeking love. He deserves love;we all deserve love. Why does then his quest seem inappropriate. Meanwhile,I was on Instagram planning to upload a selfie with a friend. That it when it clicked me what was wrong. The filters. Not on my selfie but on love. He had put filters while seeking love. Filter of caste.

And as the night progressed,it made sense. These days mostly people find companions through these filters. Tinder,Shaadi.com..they provide a whole array of filters-religion,caste,education,skin color,height,job preference and probably sexual preferences as well(kinky or no kinky ,I guess). So what they ultimately get is a duly processed partner. Love follows. Or probably it doesn’t but at least people are satisfied.
So when exactly falling in love happens?

Are we even letting love happen? Are we even allowing attraction to develop? Even before the crush happens,we tell ourselves that he’s too rich,or tall or not my type etc etc. Relations look like an instagram picture to me now. Born of filters. Where is the love that happens organically?

And here I recall a wonderful line. When I told a wise elder that-“I felt I was in love when I was 15-16,isn’t that stupid?”. To which he replied-“प्यार तो उसी उमर में होता है,उसके आगे सब गणित है”, which means, “True love actually happens in that age only. What happens later is calculated Mathematics”.

Signing off with truckloads of organic love,



Instagram filters on that note

Let’s talk Rains


Somebody said I look like the Conjuring ghost in it but duck it,yeah

Being a Delhi person for a pretty long time,I have had the very justified love hate relationship with the rains. You can feel this even better if you have close friends living in Mumbai,Goa,Bengal or any coastal area where rain gods are bigtime generous. When they tell you that it’s raining there and you are here dealing with Surya dev(Sun god) you get super jealous.

Meanwhile, *Jo tu mera humdard hai* plays in the background.

I am a crazy Bollywood fanatic for one. So the rains just HAVE to be special for me. The dark clouds have been known to evoke all kinds of happy emotions and love outpours in me. I may have had most of my crushes on a rainy day. Maybe because that way it is easier to wash the memories away. Haha! Come thunder and I have an entire playlist of rain centric bollywood songs from “Ghode jaisi chaal” to “Lag ja gale” to “Saawan Barse” to “Idhar chala mai udhar chala”. The winds carry me away to all places of childhood to first love to breakups. Maybe that’s the thing with seasons; they have memorable roles in our lives. Or maybe that’s the thing with life;it touches seasons as well. This isn’t a very well developed idea so let’s leave it at that.

Last to last night,power was gone for good 7 hours(AAP,BSES are you listening?) and I had been cursing everyone sleepheadedly. I goddamn needed sleep but not without my cooling devices. But then the night sky became yellow and it was lightening and thunder all over the sky and the wind tickling each cell of my soul. All I did was to lie down close to the balcony and watch the colour show until it started to pour heavily. And boy! It rained for good two hours non-stop. Sleep? I dared the dreamy sleep to get lost coz I wanted to watch the magnificence the sky was showering down. I just smiled at each lightening stroke.  Many a times I have felt,it rains just for me.

But I also dislike something about rains and no it is not the mud or traffic or humidity. I am not into those things. I love the traffic in rains. I love the mud and the mess and I enjoy when people frown at it because that frown takes too long to be seen in Delhi. What I dislike is the world after it has rained. I hate it when the skies become crystal clear and the sun comes back to glory. I want the dark heavy clouds to win. I love the days when it is still cloudy after a generous spell. I do not really have any justification for this. Maybe I love the anticipation of rain more than the rain itself.

The song has changed to- *Zara Zara behekta hai*

I hope it rains tonight.

Love and breezy smiles


All dreamy and Saawan struck

P.S Amongst all the romanticism,let us all pray for those affected by the cloudburst in Uttarakhand.