This was definitely one of the finest trips of my life. No, it wasn’t full of adventure or unexpected experiences. It was uneventful. Perhaps that added to the beauty of the days spent there.

It was a trip for me and D. Just the two of us. Talking, arguing, and expressing. Of the many things we discussed, one keeps popping up in my head, reminding me of how blessed I am to have a thoughtful child like her. I would refrain from sharing it over here since I believe she would have wanted that to be between the two of us only. But I would certainly share some snippets of the trip, just to record how much we enjoyed each others company and counted our blessings.



The view from terrace. There is something about the busy roads which make me nervous. I feel lost when I am on one. I feel happy just seeing it from the distance.


Playing with shadows.


The infinitely tempting pool!




She definitely knows how to choose her books!


The lovely view! I sat by the window for hours.. reading.. thinking.. doing nothing…


Reviving the old art of letter writing!


Picking up shells… and later sneaking them into my bag!


And what trip to the sea beach is complete without making sand castles or whatever it turned out to be!

Of the year gone by..

Friends who held my hand when I felt weak.

Family who made me learn the true meaning of unconditional love.

Random strangers who smiled and made my day.

The unexpected calls from old acquaintances.

That one call when the year turned.

The child who is turning out to be my best buddy.

The trip to the crazy land.

And the one that I so needed.

The silence which is both loved and hated.

The tears which never surfaced.

The smiles which never failed to warm my heart.

A heartfelt thanks to each one of them.



This year had been full of realizations.

It has given me a path. A plan. A goal to achieve.

And so, no matter how painful some moments were,

and how vague some visions,

I would always remember 2017 as the year that made me grow up.


Speaking of comfort, security and contentment

..Speaking of home.


When you have a nightmare and you sit up in your bed wondering how to make it go. Or when you have had a tough day and all you want is to wish away its bad memories.

Where do you go?

Do you wander around from one place to the other, hoping to get distracted and forget the unpleasantness faced earlier or do you go home and seek comfort there?

What makes home the zone of comfort and security? Is it the porcelain artifacts or does the expensive upholstery help? Or is it just the sunlight streaming through the windows, warming up your couch and quilt, inviting you to snuggle inside and forget the rest of the world?

All you need is your own home. A place to hide from the world. Where you gather your strength to be able to face it again the next morning.

When we moved into the new apartment, the space overwhelmed me. It was too big for my taste. The maintenance logistics scared me since time and money are always scarce. But it had ample sunlight, warmth and an open feel to it. I liked it. It made me feel welcome. The best part, I believe, is that it made me feel that I owned it. With time, as we settled down, adding one thing at a time, it became our home. It now houses our little secrets, the soothing voices telling each other that every thing would be fine, the hearty laughs and the silent tears. It is everything that a home should be.


Talk of belonging to a place

One city goes out of its way to erase/cover signage in National language to ensure prominence given to its Regional language…

Image result for bangalore metro cover hindi signage

Image result for bangalore metro cover hindi signage

(Seems like English is closer to home than Hindi..)

While the other one celebrating festivals belonging to a different country just to make its people feel at home even in a foreign land.

Related image

Pics from here,here, here

Times Of India

Redefining the phrase :
“Searching needle in haystack”

Just try to extract some read-worthy news/article from its huge ‘shopping catalog disguised as newspaper’ and you’ll know what I mean!

Rain, rain, come again





One thing that you may not find a Bangalorean say these days is that “I love rains”. No one loves rains these days. Not in Bangalore. Barring a few maybe. Those who either have the privilege to sit at home as they hear, watch and smell the rain, Or those who are fine with being on the road, sitting in the comfort of their cosy car, listening to music, and enjoying their own achievement of being unaffected by the chaos outside.




On a different note, walking through the city on day after heavy rains, when the roads are clean and empty and there is sun outside, has its own charm.