Letter to my unborn and imaginary sister

Dear sister,

It’s Raksha Bandhan, celebrating the sibling bonds. Today, I write to you a letter and know our souls are interconnected. You ushered in this world, you little angel. When Mom and Dad brought you from the hospital, I caressed your tiny little hands and fingers. I winked at you. You are a pure angel and symbol of divinity, sparkled like a Goddess. When I first held you in my arms and touched your tender skin,   your beautiful soul spoke to me. It’s the language of love. You cried. I smiled. Your tiny fingers touched and scratched my skin. You held tightly to my palms.

I promised to the seas and mountains, lakes and skies, no harm or scratch will come near you. My heart melted every time I see you and adorn you to unconditionally. Your angelic smile brought tears to my eyes. Little darling sister, you are my life. You are the earth’s daughter. I see you as my equal. You are a girl. I am proud to have you as my sister.

Often, we pull each other’s hair and squabble stupidly over petty things, hide each other’s stuff or pull each other’s hair. It’s our symbol of love. Pure, flawless and free. It’s not just a thread. This Raakhi is a bond that we share as human beings. They say the brother protects the sister. It’s quite a patriarchal enforcement. You don’t need my protection, sister. You are a strong girl, baby sister.
You fight for your rights. Don’t let them cow you. You will stumble, fall down and tear yourself down to see their microscopic view. Don’t listen to them. Slowly pick up the threads. Be yourself. 

Don’t let them give you an identity, daughter, girl, mother or sister. You are an individual and human, unique in your own way. You are allowed to fail. You are no God bestowed with super human power. You were not born to fulfil their obligations, cook food and adheres to social mores and their skyrocketed expectations. We all fail, don’t we? Why should it be different for you? Just because you are a girl!

Wear a short skirt, if you feel like and be yourself. It’s their roving eyes and not yours. Don’t blame yourself if pervs leer at you. Simply break their lecherous eyes. You will call you a sinner for you will party till late night and surrounded by your male friends.  You are special, born to be extraordinary and go against the crowd. Be free as a human being, fly and soar to touch the heights for you are destined to be that. You are special.

One day you will have a boyfriend, hold his hand and kiss him passionately. Don’t be ashamed of making love to the man who will touch your soul. Wear no cloak of pretence and put your heart on the sleeve. You will make mistakes and don’t feel terrible about. Cry if you must and release pent up energy. Don’t be fazed by society for tears don’t make you weak. Sister, you are the most beautiful soul in my imagination.

Tread the uncharted path and don’t let their silly attitudes tell you girls are unwanted or it’s not made for you. Foray boldly in the male domain and shake the foundations. Be the change and the person you always wanted to be. They will intimidate you and call you unwanted names. Do not let it bog you or their cowardly assault weakens you. It’s your battle and fight like a true warrior. Conquer the world and win hearts.

The world will sit and respect who you are. Shout if you may at them and blast the idiots. You have every right to be angry at the world that crushes you into pieces. Don’t toe the false lines spread by morons.  You are no fragmented piece or a furniture piece that dolls up in the living room. You breathe fresh air with aspirations and human needs.

Don’t tolerate injustice. We don’t live in dark ages. Stand for yourself, head held high and mighty. You will never stay in the dark. Celebrate the woman and spirited soul in you. Slay your demons. You are a warrior.

Shine like the Greek Goddess. Spread unconditional love with all the force and climb up the ladder with courage. Dear Sister, you are unborn and exist in my imagination. I am proud of you. I have already met your soul and you must be kicking in a womb, connecting our hearts and souls. I am a single child and misses you, sister but I know your soul is warming to this sibling letter and smiling in the heaven.

Happy Raksha Bandhan, imaginary sister. With love

Your brother


Yahoo! mIRC chat...ASL, anyone!

Yahoo! The crazy Yahoo ID that slowly came uninvited, minus knock knock on the door when we were slowly de-alienating ourselves to worldwide web. Social media was rocket science. It was the days we spent in the cyber cafe and yes, we had a life back then met friends at the dingy cafe and struck a conversation with that school girl, who sat opposite us chatting and sending emails. Internet ki Jai ho. 

There were many like us who never owned a computer and the cyber cafe came like the messiah to hit send an e-mail to friends with the usual, hey! How you doing? It was the late 90s and ushering in the 20th century where creating a mail id was like...well! winning gold at the Olympics. The first e-mail I created was after the tuition classes in 1996 on my birthday and dashed away post tuition in the evening at the cyber cafe.  Birthday boy...24 June!!! e-mail was born! Yahoo!!! Amitabh Bachchan fixation...aby@yahoo.co.uk...I dashed to join the club of exclusives...extraordinary gentlemen and ladies who own an address now.

 I ain't homeless. I got mail!!! I am no poor dude, you see. It tastes like liquor sending me in tizzy height of high spirits and chocolate marshmallow melting on the tongue. Cool dude is here, running with the heart doing dhak dhak karne lage to the cyber to check mail and the heart shimmered with excitement, eyes glittering and mouth wide open when the inbox pop-opens. Yay!!! I got mail. It's no less than an award. My love and flirt story started and transported to Khul ja sim sim...websites and the world wide web. Clicked and registered on websites of film stars, watched on film web address. I pranced and sang with joy. Life has just started you moron and mind you if you tell ki dude is boring and drab. I gotta life and gotta tell the world bout it.

The mailbox was never flooded like the Tsunami and it kinda made me sadder by the day. After all, why I don't get hundreds of mails like folks do?! See! Dude is crazy and he needs excitement in his life called e-mail and internet. It got me dreaming. I gotta add girls and landed on some random sites...added and mailed few chicks who dropped their e-mails. I hit send and complimented a chick who was studying in Australia. The heart went amok like the cartoon characters when she responded and almost leaped with joy. Distant...love was in the air. Ahem! Ahem! Ahem! 

We exchanged few mails to discuss our happening lives. The heart broke into pieces when she didn't reply to that mail and after few months of mindless romance, the conversation was ripped apart. The romantic heart longed for her and sunk into depression, almost sang a single sad Hindi film song...Jiye toh jiye kaise

Measly pocket money was splashed paying for one or two hours of chatting my way to heavenly bliss with girls, exchanging mails and what's not. There was bliss in this world when boy discovered something called mIRC chat room. It felt like discovering gold and wearing them like Bappi da.  Spoilt for choice like the kid in the candy store prancing from one shelf to the other but here it was checking on the enticing chat rooms, love, girls, boys, sex and fluffy romance. The Internet Relay Chat to hook young adolescent boys and girls, to discover each other...with Hi and ASL...common questions as if it was some kinda bhajan we gotta sing and learn by heart. Age, Sex, and Location, followed after the Hi...and the nicknames, sugar babe, muckrakers, sweety, honey, hunter, lesbian girl...and the list goes on.

You gotta the right dashboard and you are served with options of names, clicking on them and typing Hi...the icon is flashed and internet chatting starts. Snippet of chat, dirty talk, humor, attempt to romance an unknown face who hid behind the veil on the large, boring white desktop. Yes! It was called computers in those days that lined up in the cyber cafe. We are 90s kids and proud to be that. Everything was simple and sometimes we fought with the couples of girls we would simultaneously chat with. We had a life!  I had something exciting to boast about to friends, making them jealous of chatting with a sexy girl. No picture was flashed or phone number given...just a plain, kinda blind date on IRC chat till our time was up and pocket money emptied. The cyber cafe was a luxury and implored Mom & Dad to give pocket money to buy chocolate which was the cyber cafe. White lies to chat with girls. 

Joining this group or that group as if someone is singing a song to tell the world or exploring sex for the first time. It just felt like that! If you feel like chatting with that cool and cute girl sitting next to you, make your move and train roving eyes not on her, stupid but her nickname that flashed on her screen. Next thing is easy peasy and you find her on IRC, sending her a Hi...and she types ASL! Common sense, na.

Play the pretense game and as if you don't know what's happening, seeing her smiling to her screen and you chat till you drop like some 90s ka chocolate hero. 

Net romance, chat, and email started for me in this fashion, unlike adding shadding on Facebook or scrapping on Orkut. Hell! What's that thing called Facebook? It was mIRC in those days. My love affair started on net like some rebel teenager, exploring that what mustn't be and uncensored it stayed. The feeling, you know how it is, as if you just discovered the world of porn and making up in the dark. How many of you felt that way and remember your MIRC chat? It was my love affair with chatting on net.

See ya


India at 70: Freedom, unblemished soul and Liberation

Displaying IMG-20160815-WA0012.jpg
Free the mind;
Unshackled the ego;
Liberate from hatred and excess luggage.
Symbol of unity;
De-clutter the soul;
Flush out frustration and unhappiness;
Being Indian;
A choice;
An emotional journey;
A quest for oneness;
At the stroke of midnight,
heart tingle,
drenched in emotions;
Wondering about our freedom fighters;
soldiers guarding our borders,
and, commoner waging a daily battle;
We are warriors;
Our freedom cannot be traded,
or, taken for granted;
Value our unity,
freedom of expression;
Tolerant India;
Remove caste, class,
or religious prejudices;
Fight the war;
Say no against rape and assault against women;
You don't dictate her body;
Adorned bride at 70;
Unblemished You shall be;
Fight of your sons and daughters;
Scars may remain;
Victorious we shall be!

Happy Independence Day, folks
Jai Hind


Shadow of love

Shadow of love
Free of guilt and attachment.
Magnificent heart.
Loving in darkness.
Heart shrouded by cloud.
A string of attachment.
Loosen thy heart.
Thousands sparkle.
Soulful vibes.
Sun shining on hearts.
Eternal sentiment.
Shine like thunder.
Glittering spark.

With Love


Friendship Day: Celebrating colors of joy

Image sourced from Google/Orkutmasti.com

Colors of joy.
Painting expression of love.
Longing for togetherness.
Emotional roller-coaster.
Leaning on shoulders,
to nurse and wipe tears.
Mental stamina.
Crazy laugh.
Fight like enemies
Love like lost siblings.
Aliens in the making.
Vowing to change the world.
Midnight muse.
The last alcohol drop.
Our drugs,
till the last puff is over.
Pain seems like adventure trek.
Unbarred souls.
Everything is justified.
Done to the extreme.
Thrill at full speed.
Discovering the self.
A heart to love and lose.
High on life.
Overdose of longing for each other.
Squabbling ferocious.
Tight hug of a lifetime.
Million lights in our hearts.
Friends are our drugs and obsession.
Making memories zillion times,
in full zest and excitement.

Happy Friendship Day.