Our Love Story – A Book Review

I’ve been reading a lot of romance this month, some good and others terrible. This one was one of the good ones and I’m so glad I read it.⠀

Veronica is tired of failing in the B-town, of being sexually harrassed and of letting down her single mother and siblings. She is about to call it quits, to commit suicide, when Aditya Bakshi walks into her life. He saves her, makes her a star. They fall in love and everything is perfect when something terrible happens. Aditya had his secret and now it is out. ⠀

This book was tragic, real and very beautiful. It was not your average Mills and Boon or one of those steamy romances. This was a slow burn, it was a story of sacrifice and chastity. Very different from what I usually read. ⠀

The characters were very well developed. Veronica and Aditya had layers and so did their family members. I suspect that one of the last pages had a cameo appearance of one of the protagonists from the author’s previous work but I cannot be sure ( this was the first of his works that I read).⠀

The language was easy to read and engaging. The events were stretched over a decade and it they unfurled effortlessly. I loved how the ‘villain’ also had a human side to him. ⠀

This is perfect to be read in a cosy blanket – an easy, heart touching yet breezy read. ⠀

Book : Our Love Story by Rohit Sharma⠀
Genre : Romance

Rating : 4/5

Why Not Me? A Book Review

“Give time the time to heal you.”⠀



Based on a true story – the author’s story – this book has won many hearts! ⠀

The story
Anubhav met Zoya on Facebook. And he fell in love with her. It might sound weird – falling for someone without even meeting them, but we’ve all been there! Anubhav waited for Zoya to fall for him. He was patient and so in love. For four years, first as a friend and then as a boyfriend, he was there for her. But a happily ever after is not how this story ends. ⠀

Takeaways and Opinion
The characters were real, the story penned down in beautifully. There was nothing remarkable or ‘mind blowing’ about the story line and I guess that is what makes this so relatable. Each one of us have Anubhavs and Zoyas hidden within and we’ve been there, felt that. This book will unlock a box of memories you never realised you had. ⠀

While it resonates with millions of us, this book is not our everyday tragedy. It ends on a positive note, imparting hope and lessons and paving a way forward. The book ends with a list of realizations and learnings that might cut short years of difficulty for a fresh broken heart. ⠀

Pain can only be eased by time, but this book is a tool that’ll help catalyse the process. This book is proof you’re not alone. ⠀

Book : Why Not Me? by Anubhav Agrawal⠀

Rating : 4/5

Number of Pages : 200⠀


Buy your copy on Amazon now : ⠀

https://www.amazon.in/finds/post/photo/amzn1.spark.v2.spark.48144b07-1f0b-45cc-be01-488a46aeabdd?tag=aiponsite-21&linkCode=ic7&feedType=WOMEN_FASHION&ref=fioa_shr_txt

Samaira – A work of fictioN!

This is one of my worst posts I know!


 

It was still dawn when I stepped out of the cab and walked towards the entry gate of the Delhi airport. The early morning February air was pleasantly cold.

I was travelling to Bengaluru to attend a college friend’s wedding. It had been four years since we graduated from the same college. This wedding was also going to be a reunion of our batch mates. But what I didn’t know was that the reunion would begin much ahead of time; right in the queue in front of the airline counter.

I was almost sure it was she. Same height! Same long hair! Same complexion! Curiosity had my eyes glued to her. And then about 60-odd seconds later, when she turned, she proved me right. My ex-girlfriend stood two places ahead of me in that queue. We had never met after the college farewell.

She scanned the airport, clearly looking for somebody. Her searching eyes passed over me. Just passed. She never noticed me. Or maybe she did and had decided to ignore me…I never knew.

A few minutes later, as I leaned back and closed my eyes in the waiting area, aware of her presence within a few yards, memories of the year 2012 pulled me in. The college farewell, the tears, the smiles, the promises floated back to me. But in the midst of them all, I stumbled upon that well avoided part of my mental book of memories which I had dreaded ever since the college farewell.

The breakup!I_Love_You_2.jpg

Well, it wasn’t really a breakup, I reminded myself. I had dumped her cruelly.

An involuntary sigh escaped me as the despair of 2012 started seeping in once again. I had, by now, accepted the fact that I had acted like a self centered, attention seeking, and egoistic pig. And I hadn’t yet apologized for my mistakes, owing to my male pride.

But now, when the only girl for whom my heart had fluttered was sitting yards away from me, a sheer sense of shamefulness engulfed me.

Samaira, I think this is the right time for us to…to walk towards our own goals”, I had whispered to her in the farewell.

“What do you mean?”

“I think we should move on. I mean, I no longer want this relationship. My life goals are different. And you don’t fit in there!”

And like the perfect pervert I was, I had expected her to fall down on her knees, to beg me to stay, to shed tears for me.

But, like the sensible girl she’d always been, she had turned towards me with the words, “I won’t be able to live without you! The rest is your choice.”

I had walked off, never to return.

But every conscious moment of my life had been spent thinking about her voice, her smell, her talks, her secrets, her habits…about her!

And today, after 4 long years, she was finally right in front of me. She had never operated her facebook, her whatsapp or any other social media application since that fateful year. Yet, here she was, her eyes glued to her smart phone as she kept pushing her bangs off her face.

She hated bangs and had always avoided getting “flicks” during a haircut, I remembered. But times change, and so do people, I thought.

A black clad young fellow entered the area and almost blocked my view of her as he leaned down to whisper something over her shoulder. She shook her head and went back to typing on her phone as the man occupied the seat beside her. An ardent desire to punch him in the face rose in me as he pulled her close and held her by the shoulders while she rested her head on his shoulder.

It struck me harder than an act of blasphemy would strike a priest; harder than the apple struck Newton (whereby he gave whacky formulae to the world); harder than Cabrera’s bat struck the ball, as he leaned down to kiss her. With a frown scrunching up my dark circles to look darker, I watched on as she kissed him back and went back to her phone.

She had moved on. I had not.

The stark reality was harder than what I had imagined. I still loved her, but she didn’t. She had moved on!

They stuck together like Munchkin county Cows throughout the journey. I tried hard not to look, but failed terribly.

Once in Bengaluru and into the hotel I was booked on, I decided to push away thoughts of Samaira and the guy and enjoy the wedding.

We, my batch mates and I, had decided to meet up at Ahana’s place – a resident of Bengaluru itself.

For a minute, amongst hugs and handshakes, I had completely forgotten about Sam. But then, I saw the black clad fellow from the airport there. He was dressed up in a jeans and a shirt and was walking straight towards me.

“Rohan! My brother!” he greeted me. I looked on, completely perplexed, as he took my hands in his. I never knew him…did I?

I looked around for Samaira, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“Rohan? You recognized me right?” he asked, noting my baffled glances.

“Rohan!” he shook me repeatedly by the hand, and amongst the buzz of reunion I did something that I probably shouldn’t have.

Wham!

I punched him in the face. Right on his nose.

He took a step back. The hall grew silent. Every eye was on me. I looked around at those faces that I had known so well and then at the one standing in front of me. I wanted to apologize but a surge of emotions refrained me from doing so.

I staggered back a step or two, heading for the door. Heading out of the silent mob of stares and accusing glances. My eyes met Riya’s, Samaira’s best friend. They were glowing with rebuke. Why? Just because I had left Samaira for no particular reason? I wanted to yell out that Sam was happy, and that she should mind her own business.

But I walked off silently. Outside the building, a pleasant breeze cooled my brow. Digging my hands into my pant pockets, I walked on aimlessly into the ignominious darkness of an alley.

I couldn’t digest the fact that she didn’t whine for me, that she didn’t try to contact me. Maybe it was my “male ego”, as she used say long ago.

“Rohan!” I heard a distant voice. A woman’s voice. I turned around to find Riya standing at the alleyway entrance.

“Riya? Is that you…?” I asked, mentally wincing at my stupid question.

“No, this is Sam’s ghost reporting!” she yelled back. Lame!

“What do you want?” I fired.

“Your blood!” she retorted. Super lame!

I jogged back to her, unwillingly.

She looked me in the eye, “You punched Yash.”

A look of horror crept up my face as my feet grew cold. It was Yash!

He had been Sam’s neighbor and our batch mate and a good friend of mine for the couple of years he had been in our college. After a student exchange program, we had never met. Moreover, his clean shaved face and the fit built was nowhere near what he used to be years ago.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, “but it’s none of your business.”

The fact that Yash was with Sam was even harder to digest.

“Were you born a defaulter? I wish you wouldn’t have entered our lives in the first place Rohan! Do you have any idea about the amount of hate I currently carry for you!?” she looked at me, apparently expecting an answer.

I felt sick and a deep knot tightened in my stomach.

“You never even turned up at her funeral…” she almost whispered. I was a bit surprised to find tears welling up in her dark eyes.

“Funeral? Whose funeral?” I questioned.

She turned to hide her tears as a male voice replied, “Sam’s funeral.”

Yash stood behind her, a few drops of red staining the region below his nose which had been blood wiped off hastily.

“Sam’s funeral? What are you guys talking about?”

It was probably a mistake because at that very instant Riya turned at around said something under her breath and I was positive that her look alone could kill.

“Rohan…we need to talk”.

5 minutes later, the mild afternoon sun found us sitting in the Home Town Café with three untouched lattes kept on the table before us.

“Ok so I’m going against Riya and telling you something that I guess you need to know,” Yash said, breaking the awkward silence.

I nodded.

“Rohan, you remember the college farewell?” he started.

“Who wouldn’t,” Riya sliced in.

“You remember you went off to Delhi after the farewell, right?” Yash continued.

“Of course he does, you douche bag!” Riya interrupted again.

“You know what Sam did after that?”

I shook my head.

“She boarded a plane to come to you to Delhi. She wanted to see you for the last time,” Riya said, her voice still cold.

“But she never came to me…” I said, slowly.

“She never reached you Rohan,” Yash continued, “Remember the 2012 plane crash near Rohra?”

I shook my head again, my throat going dry.

“Do you live in a wild life sanction or don’t you have TV and a newspaper subscription?” Riya questioned, her tone cold enough to freeze steam into pointed icicles.

“Sam was on that plane,” Yash stated.

“She…did she die?” my voice croaked, my throat was dry and even the slightest effort to talk hurt in my stomach.

“No, not right away,” Riya answered, “She got a back injury. Her spinal cord was adversely affected and she went into abdominal coma for a few weeks. The doctors said that the operation involved could kill her.”

I was silent. The whole world seemed to be silent as Yash continued, “Sam had made friends with a girl in the plane. Her name’s Aanchal. She was with her master as a maid. When the plane crashed, the master died. And Aanchal was kept in the same hospital as Sam. For weeks no one came to take her responsibility. According to Sam, Aanchal was an orphan.”

I nodded again.

“Aanchal’s face was distorted. Completely. Sam knew that she was dying and so she requested her parents to adopt Aanchal as their own daughter,” Yash stopped to take a breath.

“Wait Yash, he ought to know Sam’s word,” turning to me Riya continued, “She said she had no will to stay alive after losing you. She asked Uncle to get Aanchal’s face done up. She wished Aanchal would have HER face. And she gave up her eyes to Aanchal. Aanchal has taken her place now…”

“You mean…the girl I saw you with was Aanchal?” I questioned, cautious not to meet Riya’s stare.

“Yes,” Yash replied.

“Rohan, do even feel a tiny bit of guilt residing in you? Why…why did you leave her in the first place? Were you tired of her? You had used her to the highest level possible and found her useless? Was it the reason?” Riya bombarded me with questions, half of which were lost in a jumble of words within my brain.

I wanted to yell at her to stop. I wanted to tell her how much I had loved Sam, how much I longed for her right then. I opened my mouth but no words came out. I couldn’t make sense of anything for a while

Sam was dead, and this was the hardest of blows I had had this week. Sam died on the way to meet ME.

I’d never see her again. All because of me!

“Can I …meet Anchal?” I whispered.

“No Rohan. You took away Sam from us. This is her second chance to life and we can’t let you spoil that,” Riya hissed before getting up to leave.

“Being a man is ok. But being a beast is not. Pride is ok, Rohan, ego is just not! Grow up man,” Yash said, before leaving.

Grow up…maybe I had to.

 

 

 

Lines from a book I’ll never complete!

Hola mates!
I was going through short excerpts written by me. I was stunned by a few and laughed at others. I decided to start posting them here, so here I go…

You’re the guy of my dreams
The one for whom my heart beats
You’re the one who makes me smile
Cry n jump n run a mile

Sorry m not a poet.
But yes I can write. I can write my heart out. And even as I write this m sure you’ll get wat I want to pass on. I love u.
Today I know wat love is. It’s not a distraction but a motivation to do better …its not physical touch but the emotional support.
My heart beats for you. My mind searches for u. My eyes look for u. I cherish our memories with care.
I promise u  I won’t let my shadow leave you. I won’t let your hand go away from mine. I won’t let this heart beat for another guy. You know why?
Coz you …yes you  …have stolen my peace. No more am I at ease. I love u ..n I want your love back ♡
I can write forever about your beautiful fragrance, dazzling smile, strong personality and a winning nature.
I can write forever about our stupid fights and our silly jokes.
I can write forever about how much you mean to me.
I can write forever about YOU.
But that’s not the point to be highlighted. You know wat is?
That I’d always write for you.
Only for you.
Coz I love you.

*no one’s supposed to get personal over that*

Happy Women’s Day

Hello Blogmates!
It’s been so long since I’ve last written…I wonder if anybody missed me (No?)

Well I did miss blogosphere but owing to the exams I had last week and the cafeteria that’s a family venture (we started with that last week!), I was pretty busy!

Anyway, today, I’d like to wish each and every woman out there a very Happy Women’s Day!

To all the men out there, sorry that you’re not a women (no pun intended)!

Today, I’d like to put forth a small little question – a question I can’t really answer myself!

Do you think Love Jihad exists?

It would be interesting to read your comments!

Elements of Drama

Drama is the portrayal of emotions and expressions of a story. Theatrical representation of drama involves the usage of many things and the involvement of many activities. The necessary components common to literally every play or drama are known as elements of drama.

Components like theme, plot, characters, dialog, music, visual element, dramatic conventions and symbols are the elements of drama. Let’s take a detailed look into them.

Theme:  The general idea of the play is known as the theme of a play. It usually comes to be known by the end of the play or through dialogues or the title. For example, a play might have “teen pregnancy” as its theme whereas another can have “death”.

Plot: Plot refers to the occurrence of events in a play. The way a story reveals itself plays an important role in the success of a drama. It need not have a linear structure, but it needs to create a thrill or suspense in such a way that the audience could feel the raw emotions in an intense way.

Characters:  Behind every drama that came to be remembered in the hearts of people forever are strong individual personalities of the spirits projected. Characters are very important to bring the story to life as they are the biotic elements of the story.

Dialog: Dialogue is the actual content of the drama. It should necessarily be explicit to leave a lasting impact on the audience. It is the medium through which the story is made known to the audience. The dialogue delivery of the actors is a major aspect of the success of the drama.

Music: This is the element that is responsible for providing the drama a medium to flow with; it adds a melody to the composition and is a major component of Operas. It is quiet essential to have a quality music composition or orchestra. Lyricists and music composers work together to produce good songs. Musical effects are also important for scene transition and change of moods.

Visual Elements: As the word suggests, the elements visible are visuals. The aforementioned form the audio element whereas the costumes, actors, scene, backgrounds form the visual elements. The special effects, lightning etc, deepen the appeal making the drama worthy of praise.

Dramatic conventions: These are simply the special effects adding on to visual appeal. Over the years, effects like slow motion, freeze frame, audience addressing, showing multiple scenes at one time, etc have come to be known likeable by the audience.

Symbols: Symbols are the markers of scenes or effects used to strengthen the velocity of feelings. Props, gestures, lightning, setting, etc are symbols. Simple finger on your lip gestures are also symbols.

All these elements when combined in perfect proportions produce a magnificent drama enjoyed by the people. The direction of a play involves the perfection of every element.

Apart from all this a hardworking, passionate crew and a dynamic audience plays a very important role in leading the drama to the top.

A short wishlist : By her To him

This piece of fiction has no significance as such.
It is the feelings of a girl who wants to hold on but has to let go of her love…


A short wishlist !
I wish you don’t forget me. I wish you remember those sweet memories we made and those stupid fights we had. I  wish you remember the cute meals we’d had together and sweet situations we’d experienced together.  You’re fatherly scolding to study and my teacherly scolding to eat properly . You’re protectiveness and my jealousy. Hope you remember them.
I wish you keep my gifts safe so that years later when you’re old n married you can boast that you had a girlfriend once who was not really hot but cared.
I wish you never forget wat I did was true love and that even when we’re 50 yrs old I’d be sitting alone in the verandah of my house drinking coffee from the mug u gave.
I wish you remember that even today I find you to be the most attractive guy in the world . You are charming :* .
I wish that you forgive my mistakes. M too immature I know. But you ain’t.
I wish that one day you be as famous as bill gates and then I get a chance to work for you. Don’t worry I won’t let u recognise me or interfere in your life.
I wish you live happily no matter where you are  because even today your pain is mine.
No I don’t love you. I don’t care for you. But there are lingering feelings in my heart that keep me from hating you.
I remember once you said that if we broke up..you’d keep buying gifts for my birthday n on my marriage you’ll post them with intrest. But lemme tell u u won’t be able to do that …coz i’d never get married.
I wish that if someone says my name you smile n say I miss her. No I don’t want any importance …just a small place in your heart.
I wish you are always safe and successful.  Keep smiling.
As a best frnd …A girl comes n goes like the new moon…so don’t fret or cry over it. Heart breaks are a part of life. Every night there’s one but the next morning is new!  So watever happens…remember that life goes on 😚 yolo!

Building Family Relations – Top Tips To Win Over Your Beau’s Parents

First impression is the last impression, they say and most probably this is the saying that comes to your mind when you’re meeting your guy’s parents for the first time – or maybe you’re so nervous that nothing comes to your mind! Never mind!

You want to leave a lasting impression on them and want to win over your boy friend’s parents, whereas you don’t want them to think you’re artificial. Well, we’re here to help you with that. Just follow these pointers and I’m sure you’ll have an excellent meeting ahead!

  1. Be courteous, be original: It’s not to be specified that you’ve got to be polite and respectful, but don’t show off. Introduce yourself with a smile and a handshake, address them by using prefixes like Mr. and Mrs., and be ladylike! Keep your show of affections towards your beloved to the minimal level. Be sure you don’t stay late night, if you’re at your guys house offer to wash the dishes and other stuff. Avoid probing into family scenarios and keep your conversations to the surface level – light and friendly.Broken_Heart
  2. Don’t get too congenial: It is probable that you’ll try to or want to get as close to the parental unit as soon as possible. But remember that it takes time for one to gain the others trust, so keep your emotions at bay and don’t throw yourself at them. You need not expect the same treatment they give their son to be directed towards you too, coz after all you’re still a newbie, a third party in the family. Also, you need to find out whether or not they are comfortable with hugs and stuff and if they like being called by their first name or not. The best way to know that is either asking your boy friend himself or waiting for them to hug you first and give you the green light for using first names. But till then, preserve your manners.’
  3. Take your notes beforehand: You need to ask your guy all about his family like what his parents do, where your boy friend grew up, where’s mom’s maiden home, so that you can come up with interesting topics to talk about. Silence would make things awkward during the meeting, and you babbling away about yourself would pull the trigger on vanity. So avoid talking about yourself a lot and focus on them.
  4. Observe: While with the family, sit back and observe them to get an idea of the picture. See how Mom and Dad talk to each other, note if your boy’s their favorite sibling, notice if the family maintains distance with some particular relative. This will tell you volumes about them. Also check if they are interested in what you say or not. If you are at his house, surroundings can tell you loads too.
  5. Dress appropriately: No revealing please, i.e. if you don’t want your boy friend’s parents spreading about that you dress in strips. Avoid wearing too short skirts, low cut tops, low waste jeans, skin tight outfits …you get the picture. Also, if your beau’s parents are believers of beauty in simplicity, there’s no sense in putting on a fashion show with loud makeup and garish clothes. Keep it down a bit, light make up and an attire considered by both you and your guy is the best. If you’re meeting up at his house, a sweater with a skirt minimum an inch or two above your knees with low heels work best. If outside, choose according to the location.

So best of luck girl and have a good time!

Offerings to God – a work of fiction!

Again, I wrote this when I was 14 – for a community magazine! 

Yay! This is my 50th post!


“And this year he bought me this beautiful diamond necklace. Isn’t it stunning? It’s worth five lakhs! And this sari is bought directly from the mill of Kanchi. Isn’t it…..” I tuned out of the conversation as my wife chatted away happily to observe my surroundings. The auspicious statue of goddess Durga was kept on the pedestal and looked as divine as anything. The holy priest was chanting away, there was an announcement that the aarti would begin in a few minutes and all along, in the background, was the general buzz of people chatting, children playing and chairs being pushed. All around there were hundreds of people settling down on the red chairs and waiting for the aarti to begin. The mandap was getting more and more suffocating as devotees piled in. Making my way around the elderly people already settled in the chairs, I got out of there to take a breath of fresh air.

Once outside, I stood below the banyan tree and took in a deep breath. My nostrils tingled, but not because of the air, I realized. It was the whiff of fresh, hot cutlets! I looked around at the numerous stalls of food and other crafts lining the mandap and spotted the source of this aroma. Tucked away in the corner of the line was a little stall with a huge crowd of hungry men. The board on top of the stall announced the sale of various varieties of cutlets and other fried stuff. To be frank, I’m a big foodie. The policy I followed was ‘live to eat’ and now that I had spied the food stall no one could have stopped me from going there. I was on my way when my cell phone beeped, declaring the arrival of a new message. I opened my inbox. A smile played on my lips as my son, Deb’s, face smiled up at me. He was currently posted in the US and sent me a recent snap of himself every week, on demand of his mother. I was going through our fond memories in my head, when I reached the stall. A young boy stood there, serving the people. I ordered a plate of mutton cutlet. As I was waiting for my order to be delivered, the young boy’s face struck me as a familiar one. He was no older than my son, I noticed. Neatly dressed but his clothes looked of a poor quality. As I looked on my iphone screen and once again saw my son’s face, it came to me! This young boy, who now stood here, serving me, was none other than Deb’s childhood best friend! The boy who now sold cutlets was, at one time, a topper in his class.

“Dulal?” I called out and was rewarded as the boy turned round.

“Yes, sir” he saw me and did a double take, “Mr. Chatterjee! Do sit down sir.” He offered me a stool, which I politely declined.

“It’s been a long time son. How are you doing?”

He excused himself as her mother, I assumed, replaced him. Once in a quieter place, he asked jovially about Deb.

“He’s posted in the US. But son, what about you? I mean you are such a talented young man…..anyway, how’s Mr. Sen doing?”

His face took on a sad smile and his eyes had a forlorn look, “Sir, he passed way as soon as you got a transfer to Delhi.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” His father was their family’s soul bread earner. His death explained the poor state they were in.

He nodded his bent head, and then looked up with a new smile, “Now I’m supporting the business!”

“That’s great news! So since when have you being doing this, I mean managing the business?”I still couldn’t believe that this capable boy was making cutlets in a stall!

“Well, I dropped school when I was in 10th so that’s probably from when.”

“Oh!” was all I could say.

“But…” he gave a sigh, “it is tough to keep up with the rising rates. I….we don’t know what will happen now,” suddenly he looked a lot older and wiser than his 25 yrs, “So we had no other options but to do what we can and that’s cooking!” His face brightened a little as he added, “We’ve got our own small dhaba in the outskirts. And it is quite popular now. So we make enough money to keep us going.” He gave a light shrug. “Just a minute sir, I think your order is ready.” He ran out towards his stall.

I sat there in a state of stunned speechlessness. The boy had said all that in perfect English, his manner groomed. The sun shone directly on me as I continued staring at nothing. The aarti had started inside. Loud bells were clanging, the drum beating steadily, rhythmically, through the opening of the flap of the tent, I could see my wife standing amongst her friends, the light rays of the sun shining off her necklace on which I had spent lakhs, but all it did was glitter in the sunshine. I looked down, at my shoes made of pure Italian leather over which I had spent thousands, but all it did was cover my feet which even a few hundred rupees shoe could. My eyes went to my wrist, which had on a limited edition watch worth a few hundred dollars, but it was something that showed me the same time as that displayed by a 100 rupee watch.

I thought of it in a different way now. I could buy all the luxuries of the world with my money, so couldn’t I educate this young man? Only if I would have! My son being an average student was today in the US so it was worth contemplating what this fellow could have done with proper provisions!1231701_467516106680694_842569904_n

I tilted my head up to see the beautiful mandap decorated to look like a castle and I noticed the vigor with which the Durga Pooja was being celebrated. Surely, hundreds of thousands of rupees would have gone over all this. And hundreds of thousands of people would have donated. I took in the large crowd standing in the mandap and realized what a big community we were. Couldn’t we spend a little of the funds for a good cause? Couldn’t we part take in the development of our country, and uplift our community? And I’m sure that this step would cost us nothing more than a few thousands but would bring about happiness on many people’s faces, would brighten a lot of futures.

A new realization dawned upon me. I became a changed person that day. My outlook was different now. And all I wanted to do now was to put this idea into action and bring about a change. To spread this refreshed conscience. And to eat my cutlets before they got cold…….  🙂


Ps: I won’t be blogging for about 10 days from now!! So long! Until then – a hearty cheery smile and stay blessed ❤

Do leave comments!!