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Friday, 29 January 2016
#35. You set me free...
A glimmer of light, you brought,
Like the rays of sun on a winter morning,
Breaking the barriers, you walked in,
Filling in warmth for which I was craving,
If only you knew, if only you knew,
That when you smile at me, you set me free.
If only you knew, if only you knew,
That when you look at me, you set me free.
Like the morning dew, you touched,
And every bud blossomed under your light,
You brought in me a wave of hope,
Of a future we shall together make bright,
If only you knew, if only you knew,
that when you smile at me, you set me free.
If only you knew, if only you knew,
That when you look at me, you set me free.
From the depths of the sea, emerges,
Feelings so new; I dare not name them at all,
For fear of not doing justice to them,
And you,
The one who held my hand through this fall.
If only you knew, if only you knew,
that when you smile at me, you set me free.
If only you knew, if only you knew,
That when you look at me, you set me free.
You set me free.
Like the rays of sun on a winter morning,
Breaking the barriers, you walked in,
Filling in warmth for which I was craving,
If only you knew, if only you knew,
That when you smile at me, you set me free.
If only you knew, if only you knew,
That when you look at me, you set me free.
Like the morning dew, you touched,
And every bud blossomed under your light,
You brought in me a wave of hope,
Of a future we shall together make bright,
If only you knew, if only you knew,
that when you smile at me, you set me free.
If only you knew, if only you knew,
That when you look at me, you set me free.
From the depths of the sea, emerges,
Feelings so new; I dare not name them at all,
For fear of not doing justice to them,
And you,
The one who held my hand through this fall.
If only you knew, if only you knew,
that when you smile at me, you set me free.
If only you knew, if only you knew,
That when you look at me, you set me free.
You set me free.
Saturday, 2 January 2016
Friday, 1 January 2016
Books.
So I decided to end every year from now on with a post dedicated to just books. Here, I'd be noting down the number of books I read during the year and the chosen top books will be named and numbered. As I started keeping track of the books I read since the year 2013, I'll be mentioning the top favourite books of the years 2013, 2014 and 2015 below.
Year 2013: 31 books.
TOP TEN BOOKS OF 2013.
#1 The immortals of Meluha, by Amish Tripathi.
#2 The fault in our stars, by John Green.
#3 The princess diaries series, by Meg Cabot.
#4 Percy Jackson series, by Rick Riordan.
#5 A walk to remember, by Nicholas Sparks.
#6 The confessions of a shopaholic, by Sophie Kinsella.
#7 The kite runner, by Khaled Hosseini.
#8 The hunger games series, by Suzzanne Collins.
#9 Looking for Alaska, by John Green.
#10 The last song, by Nicholas Sparks.
Year 2014: 25 books.
TOP FIVE BOOKS OF 2014.
#1 The notebook, by Nicholas Sparks.
#2 Inferno, by Dan Brown.
#3 The lost hero, by Rick Riordan.
#4 The lost symbol, by Dan Brown
#5 Divergent, by Veronica Roth.
Year 2015: 52 books.
TOP TEN BOOKS OF 2015.
#1 Slammed, by Colleen Hoover.
#2 I'll give you the sun, by Jandy Nelson.
#3 Marley and me, by John Grogan.
#4 Gone girl, by Gillian Flynn.
#5 Along for the ride, by Sarah Dessen.
#6 Before I fall, by Lauren Oliver.
#7 What happened to goodbye, by Sarah Dessen.
#8 Never never, by Colleen Hoover.
#9 This lullaby, by Sarah Dessen.
#10 Paper towns, by John Green.
Year 2016: 60 books.
TOP TEN BOOKS OF 2016.
#1 The murder of Roger Ackroyd, by Agatha Christie.
#2 Me before you, by Jojo Moyes.
#3 The graveyard book, by Neil Gaiman.
#4 Anna and the French kiss, by Stephanie Hawkings.
#5 And then there were none, by Agatha Christie.
#6 All the bright places, by Jennifer Niven.
#7 Memories, by Lang Leav.
#8 Malgudi days, by R K Narayan.
#9 To kill a mockingbird, by Harper Lee.
#10 Isla and the happily ever after, by Stephanie Hawkings.
Year 2013: 31 books.
TOP TEN BOOKS OF 2013.
#1 The immortals of Meluha, by Amish Tripathi.
#2 The fault in our stars, by John Green.
#3 The princess diaries series, by Meg Cabot.
#4 Percy Jackson series, by Rick Riordan.
#5 A walk to remember, by Nicholas Sparks.
#6 The confessions of a shopaholic, by Sophie Kinsella.
#7 The kite runner, by Khaled Hosseini.
#8 The hunger games series, by Suzzanne Collins.
#9 Looking for Alaska, by John Green.
#10 The last song, by Nicholas Sparks.
Year 2014: 25 books.
TOP FIVE BOOKS OF 2014.
#1 The notebook, by Nicholas Sparks.
#2 Inferno, by Dan Brown.
#3 The lost hero, by Rick Riordan.
#4 The lost symbol, by Dan Brown
#5 Divergent, by Veronica Roth.
Year 2015: 52 books.
TOP TEN BOOKS OF 2015.
#1 Slammed, by Colleen Hoover.
#2 I'll give you the sun, by Jandy Nelson.
#3 Marley and me, by John Grogan.
#4 Gone girl, by Gillian Flynn.
#5 Along for the ride, by Sarah Dessen.
#6 Before I fall, by Lauren Oliver.
#7 What happened to goodbye, by Sarah Dessen.
#8 Never never, by Colleen Hoover.
#9 This lullaby, by Sarah Dessen.
#10 Paper towns, by John Green.
Year 2016: 60 books.
TOP TEN BOOKS OF 2016.
#1 The murder of Roger Ackroyd, by Agatha Christie.
#2 Me before you, by Jojo Moyes.
#3 The graveyard book, by Neil Gaiman.
#4 Anna and the French kiss, by Stephanie Hawkings.
#5 And then there were none, by Agatha Christie.
#6 All the bright places, by Jennifer Niven.
#7 Memories, by Lang Leav.
#8 Malgudi days, by R K Narayan.
#9 To kill a mockingbird, by Harper Lee.
#10 Isla and the happily ever after, by Stephanie Hawkings.
Sunday, 25 October 2015
LOVE
Most of my friends know me as someone who loves to write so they like to test my skills by posing certain questions. One such friend recently asked me to describe love to her. I told her I'd write it for her.
So, what is love?
Love is the feeling of being understood for what you are, accepted for who you are. When you can be yourself around the person, when you can feel yourself being lifted off the ground, when the shackles you've surrounded yourself with are broken, all this happening without your knowledge; that is love.
And many a times, we find love in the most unexpected situations. The people we often run away from can provide us the welcome we anticipate. But do we realize this at the right time? Often we don't. Because we are so busy looking at the wrong people and expecting love from the wrong sources. Look around you, look within you. You're surrounded by love, you only need to open your eyes and learn to embrace it.
And for the lucky ones who do find the love they crave from the very people they seek, a small advice.
If you love someone, love them to the moon and back. Or don't at all. Because if it isn't extreme, it isn't worth anything. Love that doesn't make you want to reach for the stars is not love. Love that helps you grow, and grows with you, is true.
Love needn't make you forget the world, it only has to remind you of itself when you're with the world.
Love is simple, like a drop of rain. But for a soul that's been wandering in the desert, the very drop of rain is a ray of hope. And that is exactly what love is - a ray of hope.
So, what is love?
Love is the feeling of being understood for what you are, accepted for who you are. When you can be yourself around the person, when you can feel yourself being lifted off the ground, when the shackles you've surrounded yourself with are broken, all this happening without your knowledge; that is love.
And many a times, we find love in the most unexpected situations. The people we often run away from can provide us the welcome we anticipate. But do we realize this at the right time? Often we don't. Because we are so busy looking at the wrong people and expecting love from the wrong sources. Look around you, look within you. You're surrounded by love, you only need to open your eyes and learn to embrace it.
And for the lucky ones who do find the love they crave from the very people they seek, a small advice.
If you love someone, love them to the moon and back. Or don't at all. Because if it isn't extreme, it isn't worth anything. Love that doesn't make you want to reach for the stars is not love. Love that helps you grow, and grows with you, is true.
Love needn't make you forget the world, it only has to remind you of itself when you're with the world.
Love is simple, like a drop of rain. But for a soul that's been wandering in the desert, the very drop of rain is a ray of hope. And that is exactly what love is - a ray of hope.
Friday, 10 July 2015
Kellogg's Chocos ke saath 'Khuljaye Bachpan'
Family is the first kind of human interaction a child has. So when his family becomes his/her closest buddies, the kid will definitely learn how to respect relationships. A loving family, a well meaning parent can change a kid's life drastically. It all comes down to how a kid is with his family or close ones, that defines his future.
I'm a single child and both my parents work. There hasn't been a single person who I've met who wasn't concerned about me for being a single kid. 'You must feel so lonely,' 'how do you manage not getting bored,' 'you have to learn how to share with others,' ; people are ever ready with their remarks. But to be honest, I've never had to feel lonely or like I need someone else to play with. Not once have my parents made me feel any more pampered than a child deserves. And so, I've never felt the so called void in my life, the absence of a sibling or a playmate.
My mother was and still is my best friend, I see myself going to her no matter what the situation is. I feel at ease with my father when I need to ask him for anything. They are more like friends and less like parents, to be honest.
This closeness has helped me over years when I wanted to make new friends. And at times when I couldn't make friends or did not like the people around me, I was still fine because I knew I had my parents to go home to.
This kind of an environment helps us to deal with every kind of situations, we almost always know how an elder person's mind works because we know our parents well.
My mother was my first teacher (she's actually a teacher) and I learnt to respect teachers from a very young age, thanks to her. My dad helped a great deal in boosting my self confidence, as he still does. He is and will always be my first hero. This kind of an attachment leads to many happy moments and leaves no place for loneliness. And for a single kid to not know the meaning of loneliness, that's a huge thing.
To note down a few moments, when I was about five or six, I could barely spell the names of my friends. But my mom helped me with the spellings and when I crosschecked the names, they'd be always be right. I was too naive to understand that grown ups could spell better, it was simply magical for me. My mom did play the joke on me for a quite a while before she spilled the beans and taught me how to spell. Now, I find my mom coming to me when she comes across a new word, instead of referring a dictionary.
My mother helped me start writing by encouraging me to keep a journal. She literally helped me in finding my talent. She taught me how to play cards, in return to which I taught her to play solitaire on the computer.
And my dad, he is the one who got me to read, especially mysteries and thrillers. He'd read to me when I was little, even when I barely understood the stories, thus seeding in me the love for reading. And I introduced my dad to the world of classics.
When I look back on those days, I find my parents with me in every phase. I realise that they were everything I wanted - parents, caretakers, friends, teachers. So I've to be thankful to my parents for the wonderful memories, for being such great parents and for all the love they've showered on me.
Monday, 22 June 2015
It has been widely agreed on that dogs make great companions, that they make every moment worth living. I only happened to realise this truth when I got myself a dog. It's so rare for me to acknowledge the fact that my dog is a dog that many of my friends, of course the ones without dogs, find it funny. Truth be told, for me, my dog is so much more than just a pet. He has changed me in ways that were unfathomable, even for my mother. A wave of patience, compassion and love was introduced into my life with the advent of the tiny ball of fur.
Yes, he was really very tiny. All black, furry and very funny looking. I swear I was scared out of my wits when he wriggled out of the box he was brought in because he looked nothing like a pup. But then again, I had never actually seen a pup that young. (He was barely 20 days old when we brought him home.)
It took me a whole hour to get used to his ever so light shivering and the almost audible chattering of his teeth. He was in no way what I would call cute. But I started taking a liking for the little guy, after all it was due to my constant nagging that dad had agreed on getting a dog.
I wanted to name my dog Cookie. But one look at the little shivering ball of fur, I decided to call him Lucky.
My parents were relieved when they saw how quiet and soft the pup was, they had no idea what they were in for... until that night.
As the evening turned to night, we put little Lucky in a cardboard box and placed it in the patio. We had decided to get him a cage of his own (to sleep in when he wanted, of course) sometime later. At around midnight, we were woken up by this little howling noise we weren't accustomed to. Quickly flicking on the lights, we found that the little pup had somehow climbed out of the box. He was exploring the living room, howling at the walls, searching for his mother/his siblings. I felt a knot in my stomach watching the little being searching helplessly for his family that he'd never see again. That was when I promised myself to look after him, to give him all the love he deserved and to make him feel home. And that is exactly what we all did.
We never see him as a pet, he's more like an adopted (and a very spoiled) kid of our family.
I still remember his first day around our place. The way he stuttered around, marking everything as his territory, his first bark which was more like a little cough, the way he gobbled up the puppy food like he hadn't eaten in ages. Everything about that day feels so real, so fresh although it is over three years since then.
I would carry him around on my palm and he would whimper and dig into the skin on my hand whenever he felt cold. He was so warm, so tiny, so vulnerable - anything but cute. And yet, he had stolen my heart away. And I knew I'd never love anyone again as much as I love him, and it still stands true as it always will.
The little pup grew up, every passing day he'd baffle us with a new stunt, with a new headache. The time when he got his front paw twisted in a cloth and I had felt my heart reach my throat and he was so scared we were sure he'd learn a lesson from. Yet the mischievous glint in his eyes kept glowing ablaze and we sure knew we were going to have our hands full with him.
Many collar belts and leashes were bought that he miraculously got out of and dashed out of the gates, so many angry moments spent where I'd shout at him for running away in spite of all the care, nothing seemed to go into his thick skull. He seemed to be more interested in the streets than in being with us and that really broke my heart. By then, he had become even lesser of a pet and more of a best friend, a confidant.
Apart from the running away from home episodes, there was not one thing you could scold him for. He was a well behaved kid from the very first day.
As he grew up into an adult, as if he started realising how much he matters to us, he stopped trying to escape. He understood what role he played for us, he realised how much everyone cares for him. Our entire extension knows Lucky but not me. And trust me, he's not even that friendly. He still barks at all the neighbours when they come home, who he funnily happens to like being fed by.
At this point of time, I'm so used to having him around that I miss his oh-so-doggy smell when I leave for the hostel. I miss his greeting me in the mornings, his tail wagging, his notorious face, the incessant barking... everything about the boy when I'm away from him.
I can never love anyone as much as I love him because he stole my heart (probably gobbled it up, even) exactly thirty nine months ago and I'm not sure I want my now drooled on heart back.
All this was jotted while watching the handsome lad do rolls on the floor, trying to get my mother's attention. I swear you don't need any other sort of entertainment when you have him around, he's all the entertainment you'd ever need. If dogs are angels, Lucky is my angel with golden wings.
Yes, he was really very tiny. All black, furry and very funny looking. I swear I was scared out of my wits when he wriggled out of the box he was brought in because he looked nothing like a pup. But then again, I had never actually seen a pup that young. (He was barely 20 days old when we brought him home.)
It took me a whole hour to get used to his ever so light shivering and the almost audible chattering of his teeth. He was in no way what I would call cute. But I started taking a liking for the little guy, after all it was due to my constant nagging that dad had agreed on getting a dog.
I wanted to name my dog Cookie. But one look at the little shivering ball of fur, I decided to call him Lucky.
My parents were relieved when they saw how quiet and soft the pup was, they had no idea what they were in for... until that night.
As the evening turned to night, we put little Lucky in a cardboard box and placed it in the patio. We had decided to get him a cage of his own (to sleep in when he wanted, of course) sometime later. At around midnight, we were woken up by this little howling noise we weren't accustomed to. Quickly flicking on the lights, we found that the little pup had somehow climbed out of the box. He was exploring the living room, howling at the walls, searching for his mother/his siblings. I felt a knot in my stomach watching the little being searching helplessly for his family that he'd never see again. That was when I promised myself to look after him, to give him all the love he deserved and to make him feel home. And that is exactly what we all did.
We never see him as a pet, he's more like an adopted (and a very spoiled) kid of our family.
I still remember his first day around our place. The way he stuttered around, marking everything as his territory, his first bark which was more like a little cough, the way he gobbled up the puppy food like he hadn't eaten in ages. Everything about that day feels so real, so fresh although it is over three years since then.
I would carry him around on my palm and he would whimper and dig into the skin on my hand whenever he felt cold. He was so warm, so tiny, so vulnerable - anything but cute. And yet, he had stolen my heart away. And I knew I'd never love anyone again as much as I love him, and it still stands true as it always will.
The little pup grew up, every passing day he'd baffle us with a new stunt, with a new headache. The time when he got his front paw twisted in a cloth and I had felt my heart reach my throat and he was so scared we were sure he'd learn a lesson from. Yet the mischievous glint in his eyes kept glowing ablaze and we sure knew we were going to have our hands full with him.
Many collar belts and leashes were bought that he miraculously got out of and dashed out of the gates, so many angry moments spent where I'd shout at him for running away in spite of all the care, nothing seemed to go into his thick skull. He seemed to be more interested in the streets than in being with us and that really broke my heart. By then, he had become even lesser of a pet and more of a best friend, a confidant.
Apart from the running away from home episodes, there was not one thing you could scold him for. He was a well behaved kid from the very first day.
As he grew up into an adult, as if he started realising how much he matters to us, he stopped trying to escape. He understood what role he played for us, he realised how much everyone cares for him. Our entire extension knows Lucky but not me. And trust me, he's not even that friendly. He still barks at all the neighbours when they come home, who he funnily happens to like being fed by.
At this point of time, I'm so used to having him around that I miss his oh-so-doggy smell when I leave for the hostel. I miss his greeting me in the mornings, his tail wagging, his notorious face, the incessant barking... everything about the boy when I'm away from him.
I can never love anyone as much as I love him because he stole my heart (probably gobbled it up, even) exactly thirty nine months ago and I'm not sure I want my now drooled on heart back.
All this was jotted while watching the handsome lad do rolls on the floor, trying to get my mother's attention. I swear you don't need any other sort of entertainment when you have him around, he's all the entertainment you'd ever need. If dogs are angels, Lucky is my angel with golden wings.
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