For you

11 May

I met a little girl in the swimming pool today. She seemed all of 7 or 8 and was looking after her little siblings like she was a big girl. Anyway, I asked her where she was from and she said ‘I live in Gurgaon but have come to Delhi for the weekend’. Got me wondering about my childhood and the place that I spent it in. This post was prompted by that statement.

Many will also find similarities between the format of the post and another letter that has gone viral online. It’s true. The format is the same. If I ever do meet the man I shall tell him I am thankful to him.

Letter to my little girl or boy or both.

My dear little one,

I hope that when I finally show this to you, you are a healthy baby full of life and love and have nothing in the world to fear. I hope that we have raised you to believe that you are the most precious thing in the world. Because, you are.

I hope we have raised you in a place where the sky is blue and there is greenery everywhere. I hope that weekend trips mean paying a visit to your ancestral village, which is like the village of the Enid Blyton novels. A real village where when a car engine is heard everyone peers out their doors because the sound is so uncommon. Not a pseudo village which is staring straight at a metro station or a skyscraper.

I hope that travelling means passing terrace farms and tree groves that close in and make you feel like you are in Disneyland  I hope you do not have to face oozing traffic or spend hours cooped up in the backseat because the no of cars on the road is multiplying by the second.

I hope, your birthday parties are celebrated at home with friends and family and not at McDonalds.

I hope your first swimming classes are in a natural stream above the house where your brother or sister gives you the first lessons on ‘survival of the fittest’ by holding your legs up while your head stays under water and you gasp for breath. Trust me, it will be one of the fondest memories of your life and you will love your life more for that moment.

I hope that when someone talks about serving fruits picked up from the trees seconds before, you know that it’s real and not a sarcastic hint at false expectations.

I hope that you are raised in a home where guests come in everyday to have a quick chat or a quick laugh. That’s one good way of knowing the importance of friends, community  people and relationships. I hope we do not have to peep through the gate to see who it is and then open the door. I hope we live with people whom we trust.

I hope that when we go to the local market for shopping, we are greeted by people who stop for a chat or a greeting and lovingly pull your cheek or offer you a chocolate. I hope we do not shop in a supermarket where people just ignore the presence of other people and go about their business adroitly.

I hope, little one, that when the lights go off, we start singing and dancing and not complaining of suffocation.

I hope that everyday when I get back from work I carry a chocolate or a local food item for you which we then sit and eat together while discussing the day. I hope I do not come back with zero energy left after 16 hours of work with no time left for you at all.

I hope you look forward to having dinner with the whole family but I hope that the after dinner chats about love and life are what truly excites you.

Lastly, I hope that you get married at home amongst your people and not in some banquet hall which had to be booked a year in advance because almost a dozen and more people were standing in a queue for the same venue.

And I hope that even as you leave for your new home and new life, you will know, deep down, that the home we raised you in will always be your home.

I hope, dear one, that you feel the same love, support and unfailing faith in the possibilities for you as I did growing up.


Photo courtesy – Your uncle, Subodh. I hope he shows you the place after he shows it to me 🙂


That warm drink

7 May

I have said it before and I will say it again. Coffee really is a drink for the soul.

But that is not the real reason why I call it my drink. There are other more important things to note

It’s an easy drink to make – a cup, a luxurious spoon of coffee, a little less luxurious spoon of sugar and some milk is all it takes. Very few things in life come that easy.

The idea of a cup of coffee beside me for whenever I want to drink it is so comforting. Almost like sitting next to the fireplace reading a good book wearing warm socks.

Its an ice breaker in so many ways. Sometimes the question ‘black or milky?’ comes as a respite to an awkward silence and other times it just becomes a tipping point for a long conversation about life and other things.

What’s not to love about a drink that inspires love, romance, art, creativity, writing?

Also, let’s not forget no alarm in the world is nicer than coffee in bed.


Lessons, once told by a family friend

27 Apr

Strength of character is in not wearing your grief like a crown over your head.

It is in letting the reality sink in and then slowly steadily picking up the pieces and starting again.

Two sides, both important

23 Apr

An excited aunt called me at around 1pm yesterday to tell me that she had just met Richard Gere and he had given her a big hug. She was over the moon, to say the least.

At precisely the same time, a cousin who had not returned to his rented apartment the previous night was found in a hospital. He had been hit by a van and was in critical condition.

Thats life. Either ways you never understand the reality of something until it happens to you.

And most importantly what happens in the direction that you are not facing is, sometimes, more important.


There you are, beauties

20 Apr

The rioteers of spring


Life, beautiful

17 Apr

Silent narrator of a livelihood.

This shed once supported a life
It could have been a tea joint or an ironing station. Whatever it might have been, it smells of life still.

I cannot help but be curious about the conversations and life scenes that this shed has been a part of.

Oh if walls could speak!


Let it be, hon

15 Apr

Finally a post that comes from my profession. I am an account manager in an advertising agency. I could give a long JD of what I do but all you really need to know is this. I am the person who holds the sword (mostly without any shield) when the Client goes ATTACK! I am also the one who has to understand that the creative need time to think and the tech guys need time to research while the deadline never ever gets extended. I am basically the infantry.

The problem with my kind is that if we have steadily learned to accept that fire-fighting is our department. It bloody hell is not, actually. I am also good at it, most of the times. But it’s taken me a while to understand that good firefighting is not always the best thing. 

Sometimes you have to take a deep breath (cuz you may be losing your job or at least you 30% appraisal may go down by 50%) and let the crisis befall. Sometimes, the only way for the rest of the village to accept that there is a crisis is when the scapegoat suffers a terminal and infectious disease such that he becomes banned food for the lion.

So, don’t scream or rant. They will only give you wrinkles. Just let the dominoes fall.