Telepathic communication,
knowing glances,
who don’t judge,
who (actually) give a damn,
who sticks up for you,
getting their hands dirty,
who knows
what to say,
when you feel worthless,
who screams that song
along with you,
and it doesn’t matter
if you both
are out of tune,
partners in crime,
comrade in arms,
(real) friend,
knows you better,
than you
know yourself.


This week’s Poetry 101 Rehab prompt is, Friend. I would like to dedicate this poem to all those beautiful people, who’ve given me abundant memories, sufficient to last a lifetime. Thank you, my lovely jerkfaces!


This post is a part of Andy Townend’s Poetry 101 Rehab.


Into the Woods – #RiseAboveFear

Fear is omnipresent. Fear is inevitable. And there is nothing to be ashamed about admitting one’s fear. It defines a part of who we are. We all have our fair share of fears and my list is pretty extensive.

My honeymoon trip was pretty exciting and my husband had planned for us to go to Kerala. It was quite exotic and as you all know that it is thickly populated with forests, no doubt about that. We had traveled along with my sister-in-law and her husband. The more the merrier, right? We had planned out our trip and narrowed down to visiting three places in ‘God’s own country’. Our agenda included that we start from Munnar, onto Thekkady and then the last stop would be Alleppy. Munnar was a harmless hill-station where we just went onto visit the famous tea-estates and mountain peaks. But the real crazy streak began in Thekkady.

The resort where we had checked into was in the middle of a freaking forest! If that was not creepy enough, wait till you hear the rest of it. The nights were the scariest when we could literally hear the hooting of the owls and the howling of the wolves, or was it just my imagination? I don’t know because I was scared to death and hid under the blankets holding in my pee. If that portion was not scary enough, we had bizarre insects invading the balcony and I don’t do well with them either, they frighten the hell out of me.

My beloved husband took me on a forest trekking adventure the next day and it was meant to be a surprise! My sister-in-law and I were entirely unprepared for the trek. I didn’t even have my trekking shoes, for crying out loud! I was clad in my Christian Louboutin peep-toe boots. Yeah, I used that as an excuse because the forest had already freaked me out until it had driven me crazy. My sis-in-law was running half-way back to the spot where we had started from and her husband ran out to catch her.

We were compromised and dragged into the forest. The trekking guide had provided me with a pair of protective stockings that had HOLES IN IT. I mean the whole point of it being ‘protective’ was the fact that it covered your damned leg. And he sprayed some extra salt on my legs to calm me down because I had started hyperventilating. He had just warned me about the slimy leeches that would proudly suck on your legs if you don’t pay attention. And also if we were to be attacked by an enraged wild elephant, we should simply stand still and quietly get out of it’s way.

My face turned pastel and suddenly I could not breathe. But I knew that I had to go on, because there was no turning back after that point. That was the moment I decided to face my fears. Not that I had over-come them unreservedly but a part of myself the felt unwavering to get through the ruckus. I braved through the smarmy leeches (totally screaming, but hey, I made it!) and other sluggish insects as well. Thankfully, there were no infuriated elephants along the way. I proudly passed by the sly foxes as well.

I consider this little incident a victory. I credit myself for this remarkable feat. Even though my Christian Louboutins were destroyed in that trekking adventure, I had overcome my fear of insects and wild animals. And that, ladies and gentlemen is how I rose above fear, through that daring little venture.




(Images Courtesy : https://www.indiblogger.in/happyhours/rise-above-fear/#)

This post is a part of Indi-Happy Hours #RiseAboveFear Contest by Mountain Dew in association with IndiBlogger.

Check out Mountain Dew’s Facebook Page for more updates.

Those were the best days of my life…

Starting my college life in India was not easy, as I had to shift my base from Dubai to Chennai. It was a phenomenal change for me. Though I could make friends in a heartbeat, I could not fathom the change, I was homesick, missed my high-school friends very much. You know those jokes you crack and only your friends know what it is that you are referring to, I guess I missed that the most. The process of adapting to the environment and the people, well, it was excruciatingly painful to move with the flock. But things did change when I met the right people who made the burning hell fun to blaze in.

I thought I should join in on whatever the hell was going on in the campus and decided to check the Facebook college group page. I found a fellow potter-head (fans of Harry Potter) and started chatting up with her. And guess where I met her after the heart-to-heart about being an ardent Harry Potter fan amongst other things. She was running for a post in the Students’ Union and she had come with her gang of pals to ask for votes in our class. Obviously, I recognized her from her profile picture and that was where we hit off. She was my senior, a psych kid and to top it all off, she had a complicated surname which I conveniently mispronounced almost all the time. So, it was easy to remember this tall lanky figure named Pooja Sathyanarayanan…see what I mean?

Soon, I had established my base in the psych department, and I was spotted there more often than in my very own department (The Commerce Department *puking in a bucket nearby*). Well, I don’t want to get started on that story. I think it does not even deserve to be mentioned. Just know that the Professors and the kids in that department are all a bunch of losers who don’t know how to spell the word fun (except for a handful).

I stopped moping around and hiding behind my hardbound novels to face the music in my second year. It was an endless saga of inter-collegiate festivals where I found my spot in the literary competitions. One of my very first was in the B.S. Abdur Rahman University. It was a memorable day because I had actually participated in the public speaking events for the first time in my college life (like a “spotlight me” moment when Robert Downey Jr. gives a speech). I loved the adrenaline rush in a heated debate or a one minute block and tackle event. It was exhilarating and I never stopped speaking after that. I teamed up with this other junior kid from the psych department for a game of scrabble and we lost. But we bonded over Batman and soppy romance novels and her name is Fahima Mohideen.

What is college life if we don’t make stupid decisions? I decided to try my hand at the students’ union and stood for the post of literary and debating secretary. That is without a doubt the second worst decision in my college life, the first one being Bachelors in Commerce for my under-grad.

I met Lubna in the candidate selection interview and we became inseparable since then. She ended up as the General Secretary and I became the literary and debating secretary. I really could not believe the faith kids had in us. Be it organising inter-departmental or inter-collegiate events, we stuck together, besting our pea-brain of a President. The job requirement was simple really, be at the beck and call of the cultural coordinator and that was the show, baby! Satisfying her was the key to our success. And how can I forget the mandatory ritual of getting coffee and sandwiches from Café Coffee Day with Sahana and Pooja after the end of a major event. I just love the after-math of an event when I soak in the glory of actually having pulled it off! (Could not have done it without you losers!)

The final year was indeed memorable because we did okay. And I would not have been sane if not for these beautiful people I had mentioned previously. Right from the juice shop opposite to our college where they served the best cheese-chilli sandwiches to the Gobi Pakoda stall, we have been there and done it all. Although my favourite stress-buster spot was the Kachha-Mango Vendor who makes my day, EVERYDAY! Honestly, this post feels like a tribute to all these morons who made my college life bearable and amazing at the same time. Now I can proudly say that I graduated from the J.B.A.S College in Chennai and not cringe when I hear my voice. (*insert* those were the best days of my life…)

Special thanks to Arti for extending the invitation to write for this giveaway/contest.

This post is a part of the ‘My College Diary’ contest held by travel blog My Yatra Diary in collaboration with Collegedunia.com 

I would like to tag Pooja Sathyanarayanan, Fahima Mohideen and Swati Shenoy to write for this contest.

Pray for Gaza!


Raise your hands!

Beg. Appeal. Lament.

For the children

Ripped to shreds,

Riling up a blood bath

Feasting on the innocent

Why, Ya Allah?

So let me pray to you,

For you are Ever-Merciful


And All-Hearing,

Ya Rabil Alameen,

Heed to our pleas

Your slaves beckon to you

O! Master of the Universe,

We Pray for Gaza.


Eye of the Tiger – #IAMMARDAANI


Seena Marzook had just gotten down from her school bus near the Al-Khan road junction in Sharjah (United Arab Emirates). It was around six o’ clock in the evening and she was late due to special classes that day, and she was worried about her mother who would fret in the apartment way up in the fifteenth floor. She swiftly walked towards her building and noticed that the watchman was not there. She was so tired that all she wanted to do was to get a nap after she reached home.

She walked in front of the elevator and pressed the up arrow button and waited for a while. A random guy had just come into the building and stood next to her and she assumed that he wanted to use the elevator as well. Her eyes were droopy and her stomach grumbled for she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch break. The man kept throwing side-ways glances at her but she simply gave it into her wild imagination because she knew that she was swaying because of the weight of her school bag and the numerous ledgers he carried in her hands.

*Ding* the door of the elevator opened and she slumped forward and the man followed. There was nothing suspicious about him at all. He was dressed in a formal attire and looked like a decent fellow. She positioned her accounting ledgers on the floor of the lift and removed her bag from her thankful shoulders, placing it beside leg.

The man advanced towards her, using the whole pressing the floor button excuse, he slightly brushed his arm against hers and lighted up his floor number on the board cluttered with buttons. She was dizzy with a headache and lazily pressed her floor button.

The man fidgeted a little, much to her discomfort. After a minute or so, he thrust her on the mirror of the elevator forcefully, not letting her move. He instantly pressed the stop button and lift stopped moving. He grabbed his opportunity and ran his filthy hand beneath her skirt. She was just processing the fact that this repulsive man had his hand up her skirt and was willing her brain to give her instructions to react to the situation. She knew that she had to act quickly, her hands were twisted behind her back and he was directly in front of her. He was nauseatingly rubbing himself against her tender body. She could not get out a scream, for she was in shock that this was really happening…to her of all the people in the world.

The man desperately moaned, much to her repulsion as she tried to muster some energy and channel it towards her knee. Then she had to just act that she was into it and complied with him. He noticed that she had given in to his sexual advancement and slowly released her hands and began to do unspeakable things to her as the other hand was no under her tousled shirt. She had her chance now, both his hands were busy and that bastard was going to get her final little treat. She crashed her knee into his shins and showed him the true meaning of pain. She repeatedly kicked him in the shins and punched his nose and ribs too, just like her Sensei had taught her. He was bleeding now, and that vastly pleased her.

“I had the element of surprise on my side, you f**king bastard.” She screamed now, but he could not hear anything, for he was toppled over on the elevator floor begging her stop. Frantically, she pressed the alarm button and released the stop button all at once with her sweaty fingers. She roared into the phone, calling for that no-good watchman but she received no response. She noted the floor number that they were on and pressed the next one. She seized her bag and ledgers, rushed out of the elevator as soon as she could, but she could not help but bang the ledgers on the son of a gun before she raced for the stairs. He merely lay on the floor in a fetal position like the coward he was.

Meanwhile, she sprinted towards her apartment door, fumbling with her keys and jammed it in. She bolted the door once she was inside and noticed that it was dark. ‘Mom and Dad are not at home, thank god for that’, she thought. She tried not to think about what happened and dashed to her room and walked into the shower directly, before she did anything at all. She scrubbed off the abhorrent memory from head to toe. Even though she did tremor, an unknown feeling of contentment blanketed her as a grin crept upon her lips. A very sadistic grin at that and she balled her fists and shut her eyes for a good twenty minutes, letting the warm water work its magic.





This is written as a part of I am Mardaani activity exclusively at BlogAdda.com for Indian Bloggers.