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


‘FOG’ Chal raha hai

I really have no idea ‘Fogg’ chal raha hai ya nahi,but the advertisement has got on people’s nerves lately. God bless Fogg. This post is for my eternal love for winter. I am writing this wrapped in the blanket and the earphone echoing “Raat ke humsafar,thak ke ghar ko chale“. If only there were words to praise the blanket..if only.

Winters are special due to many fond memories. The foggy haze at times has cleared up so many apprehensions of my mind. To me,winters have been the warmest times to rejoice the bonds we cherish most. The chill in the air is bound to get humans closer(Not in that way,sicko!). I rate myself okayish on the scale of romance,and winter gives wings to it. Romance,I choose to believe is any human feeling that is exvlusive for two souls. So if your Mom scolds you for not having milk,that moment,that feeling is exclusively for the two of you. It is irreplacable and this is what I think the core of romance. So I can find romance in breakfast,classroom,a specific tree,anything. Romance grows exponentially in winters.

So here I have ten romances strictly glorified by winters:-


Source- Pooja Saxena

           Source-Pooja Saxena

1) Coffee : Need I say more? If coffee was female,I would have been a perfect womanizer. Latte,mocha,espresso,cappuchino,ask me to differentiate between them and I will give exact concentration ratios. Winter is coffee’s boyfriend. Why else would coffee look,taste and feel beautiful like never before. Now you know where to take me on a date.


2) Chai: Being born and brought up in a family that thinks chai is as important as the meals,this just had to be in the list. Coffee is my first love and chai,my extra marital affair. Ever had the chance to sit at a local chaiwaala,dip Parle-G in the cup and enjoy the bliss? If not,do it on priority.


3)The winter gear : Furry coats,knit caps,mufflers,gloves- I felt so.dumb as a child when Maa layered me up. As a 20 year old, it hardly matters. Coats are my new love and bright sweaters,the.mew addiction.


4)Gaajar ka halwa: Moong daal ka halwa,kadaahi waala basically. The usual momos become tastier on winter evenings. Delicacies become heavenly in winters.


5) Long walks: Walking alone or hand in hand with a soulful company,thinking of oddities of life,indulging in meaningless conversations is my idea of being alive in winter.


6) Sunshine: Basking on the terrace,letting sun rays find way from your eyes to heart,feeling warm and drowsy..God blesses us in uncountable manners. This one,is the best.


7)Gajak Rewari: Chakki,gud ki patti,til ke laddu, match at all. They have been our favorite winter accomplice ever since we had proper set of teeth.


8) Picnics: Flashback..winter holidays,going to park,spreading the mat,playing badminton,gorging on snacks..the good old days. Anyone who wants to do this again,ping me now.


Veer Zaara

            Source- Veer Zaara
9)Bonfire: Precisely,this nails it. As a child,in my village elders used to talk incomprehensible laws of life around the bonfire and I used to roast green peas,potatoes and sweet potatoes. Talk about opportunist cook.


10)Love: Love has no season but winter owns it a little more. Christmas,New year,Makar Sankranti,Lohri..they bring us closer to our friends and relatives and accentuate the love in the air.

How many of these made you nostalgic? If you have your own cherished winter moments,do share them in the comments.

Warm hugs and smiles.

Me,as you know me

Anaari,because that’s how I can be best described. Anaari in all ways. I score zero at being figurative of conversations. You may happen to be closest of my friends or newest of my acquaintances, chances are you will mostly find me at the listening end. Reasons you ask? So when you are with me what I am doing is trying to extract stories out of you…of your life,of your daily struggles,of your joys,of your silliness,of your achievements,of how you missed that bus or burnt the toast or how you made that pretty hairstyle to how you lost you lost the love of your life. I love to listen all of it. These stories fulfill me.


You can share deepest of your fears and pains and chances are,I won’t utter a single word of sympathy. But believe me when I say,your pain has found a safe spot in my heart and whenever you feel lost,you have a place to fall upon. I am a speaker’s delight and a listener’s fantasy.

Anaari also because when it comes to dressing,I am mostly a mess. You’ll find me sporting a trend that came three years ago because then I was busy being in love with something that came another three years ago. So if you are donning Palazzos and crop tops now,chances are I will learn to like them few years later. A Bindi fanatic, I am huge admirer of ethnic clothing. You can find me grabbing any opportunity to wear a Saree,if you stalk around my facebook profile  .People say I was “born an aunty”. Whatever.

I am Drum because I make all kinds of noises and all kind of music at all kind of beats(not literally). This blog is not to attract readers. This is just because-of all the 70,000 thoughts that cross my mind everyday,most are about the people I know. Instead of letting them pass away,I choose to give them the significance they deserve,here.

In this blog,there will be more of you than me,because I am all that your stories do to me. Read on,share,write with me if you want and keep telling me your stories. I was born to listen to them.


Love and hugs