SHE – The one who’s amazing!

She’s pretty, undeniably so. Her perfectly silky hair makes you ask her for the secret mantra. Her glowing skin makes her the topic of the day. Her ability to look good in whatever saree she puts on makes her the local fashion icon. Though not slim, she’s the ideal woman.

She’s hardworking, inevitably so. Giving up all she earns to the family funds, she never complains about not being able to buy a lipstick of her choice without permission. Waking up at 4 in the morning, she cooks up the meals, gets ready for work and wakes up the lazy butts lying on their comfy bed. She never lets them get late.

She’s the best cook in town, I bet! You won’t be able to resist the urge to lick your fingers if you eat food cooked by her. Continental or traditional, spicy or sweet, vegetarian or non-vegetarian , name it and she can make it – tastier than the local chef in demand.

She’s the best teacher. Not just at the school she teaches, but at her own home. Sewing, embroidery, knitting, writing, cooking, driving, anything – she’s the one who teaches you the way you never forget.

She’s a wonder woman! Everything she’s been bearing is no joke. You won’t write much about it – and so won’t I, but yeah, she’s a wonder woman.

You can’t describe her in a few words, you can write a whole thesis on her and still you’d feel you’ve missed a few points.

Yeah she get’s angry, she yells, sometimes she gets intolerable, she get’s tired – but she rarely shows it (but when she does, I swear she’s as dangerous as a hungry lion, n i guess I’m not exaggerating, wink wink!). Gosh..I got started again!

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That’s My Mummy!

She’s that good – rather great – that you can’t stop wondering how could someone be so great! Maybe I’m meddling up my words, but all I wanna convey is that SHE is unique and the best!

I feel so lucky to have her in my life.

It isn’t just this one day that I’m feeling lucky, I feel so every nano second of my existence! Right from supporting me while writing to editing my work, from bearing my drama to helping me grow up into a better human, she’s been there.

And the name I call her by is:  MUMMY! Sweet? I know!

But she’s sweeter….I wish everybody in the world could get someone as sweet as her in their lives. SHe’s the best and she rocks!

Even now, I ‘m not getting words to describe her – but she’s simply amazing, trust me!!!

Happy mother’s day to all those amazing, beautiful super mommies out there (including mine)! 

Don’t forget to leave a wish in the comments below 😉 !


PS: In India, mother’s day is being celebrated today! 

Responsibility – A work of fiction!

Written originally for a school presentation ! 


“Any complaints?”

“Oh come on Anya. You know your work is flawless! I just don’t understand why you’re stuck up with this boutique. You should go for one of those big fashion chains…” Namita, a daily customer of the boutique, babbled, picking up her delivery and proceeding to pay.

The bright smile on Anya’s pretty little, twenty nine year old face shrunk a bit as she averted her gaze. Why bring up this topic, she winced inwardly, deciding not to answer her.

“Answer me!” Namita prodded, “Do you want me to help you with your CV?”

“Uh-no,” Anya replied, “I had done this, years ago. They say I need a degree in Designing and Arts to qualify for a seat…”

She paused for that to sink in before perking up her expression and returning the change.

“And why, in the lord’s name, did you not go for it when you were younger?”

“Ah-a long story!” Anya replied, her face blushing.

“I love long stories,” Namita answered with a grin, making herself comfortable on the plastic chair.

With a sigh, Anya took her seat behind the counter, her elbow resting on the counter top, “Dates back to when I completed my 12th with a 95% in physics. I dreamt of going in for NIFT entrances, you know National Institute of Fashion Tech.”

Namita nodded for her to go on.

“And so, I revealed my wishes to Mum and Dad. Dad, being the typical traditional fellow he is, immediately objected claiming I was born to be an engineer.

On the other hand, being the typical rebel I am, told him what I thought of his great idea f making me an engineer.

Daily there were squabbles and finally we decided I’d appear for both the entrance exams.

In my opinion, both my exams went off well. The condition was I’d opt for the subject I score better in. I passed JEE with a placement in one of the best colleges. Dad was overjoyed. But I waited for my NIFT results…which never came. I never lost hopes, but when months passed and it was time for me to start with my engineering, I had to give in. Seems like I failed. I did my engineering. It was tough. I’m a B.Tech.  in computer software. My husband’s the MD if an IT company. But I can’t work with him. You know why?”

Namita shook her head.

“Because I’m an engineer without any knowledge of engineering! I mean I can’t program a simple thing because when I sit to do it, my head spins and I fell like ripping my skull apart!” Anya paused to take a breath and continued, “What do you suggest I do? I tried whatever was needed but…well now it’s too late to ponder over that!”

There was a chime at the door. Anya stood up as a man in his mid thirties entered the boutique.

“Mrs. Anya Tiwari?” he announced looking at the two ladies.

“That’d be me…” Anya said, “Tiwari’s my maiden name,” she gave in the way of an explanation to Namita’s inquiring look.

“Nice to meet you madam. I’m Tarun Halat and I’m here to give you this,” he said, fishing an envelope out of his bag.

“What’s this?” she asked, turning the big thing in her hands.

“Well, well, well! You see ma’am my father, Late Mr. Arvind Halat was a postman,” he waited for her reaction, when none came, he continued, “About ten years ago, he won a lottery of half a crore through those stupid games we see at TV stations. Well they’re not so stupid after all! Ok, so to talk of the envelope, he brought a new house and stuff and left his old coop locked up. Recently he passed away and we got the opportunity of sifting through his belongings. Inside his cubbyhole, we found a whole bag of undelivered letters dating back to the day he resigned. As the irresponsible man he was, he forgot all about these. But we decided to turn them in to the rightful owners…so here it is. We went to your home on the Prithvi Road, your parents told me I’d find you here…”

“Oh,” Anya whispered, reading the address on the envelope having a NIFT seal. Peeling off the seal, she slid out a worksheet along with a letter.

Tarun and Namita waited patiently as Anya read and re read the contents. Her eyes watered as she looked up to the two of them. Tears welled up those beautiful black eyes as she repeated the printed lines in her mind…

…having secured a merit position in the NIFT entrance exam, you are bestowed with the privilege of selecting the institute of your choice…
Reply within a period of ten days…

“Why have you brought this to me…” she whispered.

“Pardon?” Tarun said, leaning in to her better.

“WHY HAVE YOU BROUGHT THIS STUPID THING TO ME…” she yelled, tossing the envelope by his feet, “You realize what this is? You want me to cry all over again? You to make me REGRET?”

“Ma’am,” he tried to cut her.

“If only you had brought it ten years back…if only…” she whispered, stumbling on her chair and turning her face in an unsuccessful attempt to hide her tears.

“I’m sorry, from my father’s side…” he began.

With a jerk, she looked straight at him, “YOUR FATHER SPOILT MY LIFE MR. TARUN HALAT. GET LOST! I DON’T WANNA SEE YOUR FACE…” she hissed.

Later on in the day, she realized she was wrong in scolding him. He had helped her and she had been ungrateful. But she had to vent out her feelings…no?believe9

Ten years, ten long years she had lived the life of shameful failure, had believed she’d FAILED not just in the entrance exam but in her life! A life of low self esteem, dismay, and uselessness is something worth crying after…

And all this at the cost of a man’s irresponsibility?

Contemplable eh?

Savior – A piece of Fiction!

When I was 11, I was obsessed with action.


Millions of people fought years ago and died years ago. Millions of people did that for us years ago. Many of them became famous as freedom fighters. Bhagat Singh, Lal Bhadur Shastri, and Rani LakshmiBai were some of them. But there were some who never came to be known by us, some who were dedicated to the people, worked for the people but were not by the people. And I know about such a man, a man whose death still haunts me. Maybe because he died because of me.

It took place years ago, when I was just 18 and the whole of India was fighting for freedom. A time when the Indians killed Britishers on sight and the British too did its share of kidnapping Indian women and children. And I too was a woman, a helpless woman whom they had kidnapped. I was thrown into a ship and that was when it started….

Previously, two of their captives had disappeared and the Brits believed that they were rescued. So this time they had put us in the upper deck where only the whites could enter. I looked around at the three other people in the room. One, a kid of about seven, was lying on the bed and looked unconscious to me, another was a woman looking out of the window and the third occupant-a woman -was sitting on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest, and sobbing pitifully. I went to her and put my arms around her to comfort her. But when I tried to speak, I couldn’t. It was hard to choke back tears at this point but I held on. At this precise minute, the door opened and a white man entered the room.

I saw the other two women around me shiver (ok, I was scared too) as the man entered the room. He strode directly towards the kid on the bed, his face determined. Was he going to kill us or were we being handed back to our families in exchange of something? I had no idea what was in store for me. I stared as the man heaved the kid on his shoulder and motioned for us to follow. Noticing a gun in his hand, we complied. Once outside he took us through winding passages in the ship. As time passed, the passages started growing deserted.

After a few minutes, the route he took was totally empty. On a sudden impulse I asked the man, “You’re going to kill us?” as soon as the words were out, I wished I had never spoken .The man stopped and turned towards me. His face sturdy but not cruel. “No” he said in a deep voice. “I’m not going to kill you, or even hurt you, as a matter of fact. But promise me that as soon as I let you out, you’d never turn around or speak to anybody about me. Once you’re out I don’t exist, ok?”

We nodded and I was about to speak when a man’s voice boomed from the rear, “You traitor!”

We all turned around to face a burly Brit. The next thing I knew was that I was being pulled from behind. We were all running and shots rang from behind us. The man led us to a door that opened into a dark hollow. He led us through the narrow path and after about fifteen minutes walk he stopped. We saw a thin streak of light behind us and knew they were not far away. The man brought his mouth near my ears and whispered, “Lead the women and kid through and take the first left. I’ll handle the bastards. Just hurry and don’t make a noise.” I could clearly hear his labored breathing and was reluctant to leave him. How I came to trust him, I don’t know but whatsoever, I followed his orders. Moving cautiously in the dark, I suddenly noticed a light ahead. Moving towards it, I noticed that it was the turning, lit by a lantern. It forked into two, and I took the left and suddenly stopped short as I heard the fire of a bullet. Looking behind me I saw the tension on the other women’s faces too. The one who now carried the child looked on the verge of tears. My own breath was held and after what seemed like ages the voices of the men went away. After what seemed like an eternity, I started walking again but not towards the exit but towards him.

Making my way through the dark with the lantern, I finally heard someone breathing heavily and my leg hit something. Bending down I realized it was none other than the man. Placing the lantern down I noticed his bleeding stomach and knew that he was shot. I was so frantic that all I could do was ask why?

And to this monosyllable he answered, “I lost my loved one in their hands and didn’t want your lovers to experience the same. I knew it was wrong, that we’re wrong. It was the least I could do.” And with that he left the world but his memories never left me. Many wouldn’t consider this meeting as being a friendly one but for me that single meeting was enough and I knew that he was my friend, my savior…….

A Villain with a Heart

I wrote it when I was 11 !!


My eyes misted as I clapped for my son who marched up the stage to accept his medal. I was really proud for the deeds my son had done as a military commander for the country but the cause of my tears was the memory of a friend, Jackhans_7507

Jack was an excellent shooter and a famous (in the underworld) personality. How did we meet? Well, he saved my life.

It was a chilly morning of December when I was walking down the Eve Street, unaware of the danger in store. The locality was deserted and except me there were only a couple of other peoplea young man and an old womanon the street. Everything was quiet when suddenly a shot rang out, shattering the stillness. In an instant the young man had his gun out, aimed at the old women. The woman, surprisingly, lost her limpness and ran for cover behind a wall (and she too had a gun) – she turned out to be a man. I shrieked as someone grabbed me from behind and blindfolded me. I was carried in, perhaps, a car to some musty place, which turned out to be the dungeons of the Webster House. My blinds were removed but my hands and feet were securely tied and then I was thrown in one of the
cells.

Sweat poured through my body, all sorts of thoughts passing my mind. I looked around myself and found to my surprise that there were a dozen more people in the vault, all unconscious. They were all VIPs (except a couple of girls who were simple citizens like me)relations of different ministers whom I knew by faces .For a minute I felt honored to meet such people but then again the thoughts of the gangsters filled my head. Otherwise, the room vault was completely bare and was illuminated by the glow of the only light bulb present there. I tried to wriggle out of my bonds but they were tied quite professionally. At that moment the metallic door opened to reveal a lot of rogues.

They were all dressed in black and were carrying AK-47s in their shoulder holsters. I got scared when they started towards me but they didn’t even seem to notice me and passed on. They carried the unconscious figures of the VIPs out one by one and closed the door. Now there were only three of us left in the cell- the two, partially conscious, girls and myself. Once they were fully recovered I tried to talk them into telling me what the whole affair was about but they were too scared to utter a single word.

After a few hours of silence, there came a grating sound and the door opened. In came a man, closing the door behind him. He was dressed fully in black like all other thugs; he advanced towards me with a sharp knife gleaming in his hand. I screamed with fright assuming that he was planning to kill me. The man gave me a sharp look with a finger on his lips; I understood that I had to be quiet. When he came a little closer, I gasped in recognition- he was none other than the underworld face whose picture was on the wanted list of criminals on the papers, famous by the name of the Jackal.

He walked up to me with the sharp blade, and with one stroke of his arm…

I closed my eyes, waiting for death to come but instead I felt the grips of ropes loosen around my wrists. I slowly reopened my eyes and gazed at him who was setting the other girls free. My mind still wasn’t ready to accept what was happening, I was sure that he was going to assassinate me but my heart opposed it as his eyes showed concern though he appeared to be ruthless.

The man motioned us all to sit and said, “The doors are heavily guarded at present. It’ll be easier to get out at noon, the guards at that shift are easier to handle.” I sat close to him and asked in a hesitating manner, “Aren’t you the-“

“Jackal, yeah!” he said interrupting me. I sat quietly waiting for an explanation but when none came I again inquired, “What’s going on here and how come you saving lives instead destroying…I…please, no offence or anything intended.”

“None taken. And about your question, the whole thing’s this- these people are an international group of terrorists, want money and their dangerous fellas set free from the clutches of the police. They’re holding important people as hostages. And about why I’m helpin’ you’ll- it’s a long story but in short” he sighed “my sister, the only one I’ve ever had to call a family, was abducted and was brutally murdered by a group of outlaws”, for a moment his eyes were filled with misery and sorrow but in no time, he regained his ruthless attitude and resumed, “I can’t see innocent children and women killed and I came forward. And my reputation helped me to gain the terrorists trust, so here I am.”

“So you mean to say that you entered as a terrorist but are actually working for the government?”

“Not. For. The government.” He said this slowly yet furiously. “I told you how much I cared for my sister Laura. When she was in danger I was not there to save her; and I find… peace on saving the innocent. And the government is actually after me, ‘cause I’m a wanted criminal, am I not?”

A criminal saving women and children, weird.

I sat for a while, looking at the man and then extended my hand, “I’m Jane Maria Christie.” He gave a quick two fingered salute saying, “Jack Sullivan”

After a sleepy hour or so, Jack stood up, asking us to do the same. “Now, follow me and remember-if there are any shootouts, stick to the ground. Clear?” We all nodded.

With gesturing to be quiet, he moved out of the door with all of us tailing him. After turning a corner we followed him at a brisk pace towards the door, but Jack came to an abrupt stop and to our horror, we were face to face with one of the assassins.

He, at first ignored our expression and gave Jack a friendly smile and extended his palm, asking for a pass. From Jack’s expression it was clear that he wasn’t expecting anything of this sort. When Jack was unable to provide him with what he wanted, his expression became grave. He looked first at Jack and then at us, and at once took out his gun. Then there was quite a lot of shooting between a few terrorists and Jack. As instructed, we went down on our bellies and crawled all the way to the door.

“Run, run for your lives, go to gate 4, hurry” came the orders from the wounded Jack as he was still blocking the door so that the terrorists couldn’t follow us. Unwillingly, we left him to fight for himself and ran out. Whatsoever, we were being followed by a couple of gangsters. Once outside, we saw that the atmosphere was tense as if preparing for a war. We saw on a city map displayed on a board that gate 4 was a military base and was not too far from where we were standing. We ran at top speed, stopping only once to catch our breath. We finally reached the base (where one of my companions fainted out of tiredness) where noticing our conditions, we were carried inside.

In a week, we came to know that the terrorists were under control-all because of our army-and the VIPs were located.

The next morning’s paper showed that several of the gangsters were found dead on the door of the Webster House (I knew it was Jack’s work). It also explained that the army men were under cover, patrolling the city (like the old woman who turned out to be a man) and it even revealed that the Jackal was found dead too, outside the dungeons.

Every one still thinks that he was a companion of the terrorists. No one knows the truth about the daring hero. Now, 20 yrs have passed but the incident is still fresh in my mind. I’m really happy to think that I got a chance to know such a great person who gave up his life just for three citizens whom he didn’t even know. This was not exactly a friendly meeting but to me he would always be a friend-a savior.

There are many villains in this world, but this one was different …he was a villain with a heart.

Study Tips – How to Concentrate On Studies

Concentration or the ability to direct your mind towards what you want is not a voluntary and easy job. A human mind plays one of the silliest games and does just opposite of what you instruct it to. You want to complete the chapter in an hour but just when you sit down with your book, thoughts of the last movie you saw or the last conversation you had with your boyfriend or girlfriend seems to detrack you totally. Gossips about your friend circle or social networking sites do sound important stuff, right? Wrong, studies are studies and you need to focus on them, no matter the books look like intimidating monsters or senseless pieces of paper. And to help you with that, how to concentrate on studies and go about from being a weak or mediocre student to a strong topper, we are here.

Before you sit down to study, just clear your brain of all the distractions and block out every other noise.

 Find the right place: The most important factor is finding the right spot and environment to study. A proper environment is as important as studying itself. Once you find it, keep coming back to it as a routine. You may look up the internet for helpful articles on this. Some people may find it hard to study in a pin drop silence atmosphere as then; a pin drop may seriously be disturbing. So in such cases, you may switch on a TV or a soft stereo music to help you create a background gag.

Know our schedule: Make time table so that you don’t feel over worked. There might be times in the day when you feel the sharpest, schedule difficult subjects for such times. Some people leave difficult subjects for late evenings when they’re already tired, but that’s wrong. Leave subjects you love or enjoy for those time periods and study the hard ones in your epic times.

Go about Mind Mapping: You can use the technique of mind mapping to help you out. Mind mapping involves displaying information graphically. They usually use central images with branches radiating out sub information. It takes the shape of the subject you are studying. Remember, the brain takes up the diagrams much faster than usual text material, so make your mind maps as colorful and graphic as possible and surely it’ll help you grasp the information.

Keep away from distractions: Shut down your computer and stow away your mobile phones if you are used to checking them now and again. Put down your headphones and stay away from the activities of your roommates or household members. It sure is fun to leave studies and indulge in other activities, but don’t you wanna excel in studies? So just tell yourself firmly that no means no!

Use active reading techniques: Reading the stuff like a storybook would do no good. Instead, ask yourself challenging questions while going through the book. Mark important points, take notes for future reference and involve yourself wholly into what you are doing.

Get adequate rest: Studying continually for long hours could be stressful for your brain that may result in the destruction of what you’ve already studied. So take regularly scheduled breaks and get enough sleep at night. You don’t want yourself dozing off during an exam or emerge with dark circles and a saturated brain state the next day, do you?

Reward yourself: This is the most important point. Reward yourself with incentives like a night out with friends, a pizza, or something as simple as some time on Facebook or Skype. Whatever you enjoy, just make it your goal and study hard. If you complete your project, you reward with it!