Weekly Photo Challenge: I’d Rather Be

I’d Rather Be…


Waking up as the first rays of sun pour into my bedroom,


and watch this little one go moo moo first thing in the morning.


Or make my knees green by rolling in these grass fields


and sometimes build hay stakes on the hill slopes.


Spend the noon counting unripe mangoes on the tree I planted in my childhood,


and plucking strawberries from our garden,


Or may be look around for wild berries in the jungle.


I would watch the sparrows perched on our wooden terrace,


and build a scarecrow to fly them away from the crop.


I would spend the evening listening to the sound the river makes as it flows down the valley,


and wait for another day in this place I once called Home. 



I wanted to write about change, in seasons or in time,

or how bad days are always followed up by

not-so-bad days, or even good days.

But I am not so sure now,

for there is no sign of spring

this fog never descends and the cold has embraced me.

Winter has fallen in love with me,

and may be I have fallen for it too.

And both of us don’t want this love to change.

Life goes on…




Both the images are of the same tree(Peepal or Sacred Fig) taken eight years apart. The first one was taken in 2009 while the second one last year in 2017. 



A pigeon fell down in my balcony a few hours ago. He wasn’t moving. I went near him and felt a movement and thought may be he’s in shock and would fly away in a moment. I went back to check on him about thirty minutes later and he had moved on the floor but still wasn’t flying or even moving, just lying still. I checked his body from a distance and didn’t find any injury or any broken wings. He was just still and may be sick. I googled ways to help a sick pigeon and after a lot of research decided to put it in a warm and safe place. I cut out a box, laid out my old t-shirts in it, and carved out holes for ventilation. Next job was to try to hold the pigeon and put it in the box. And I was literally shaking. I had never held a bird in my hands before. How was I gonna capture this dying pigeon and keep it in the box. Anyway, after chanting lots of mantras I held the pigeon using a soft cloth and put it in a box. I thought to keep it that way till morning and wait for the bird to recover and then try to take it to a vet or something. I had no idea if vets in India treat birds or whatever but that was something to worry about in the morning. The pigeon looked peaceful and I left it to feel safe and warm. Around an hour later I heard him flapping his wings. I ran to check on him. He was breathing heavily and acting so weird. I thought may be he’s trying to fly away and the box is interrupting his wings. I didn’t know what to do so I took him out of the box. He was acting all weird, like he gave up on his body, his neck was drooping and he couldn’t stand on his feet. I tried to keep a bowl of water near his beak but he didn’t try to drink any water. I didn’t have a syringe or dropper with me. So I cut out a piece of cloth, made an electrolyte solution using salt and sugar and tried to drop it onto his beak.

But he died.

He just died. He’s not moving. He has just given up. No movement. Nothing. Still. Gone.

And I feel guilty. I should have just left him as he was. Why on earth did I try to become a vet? I can’t sleep. Its 3 am.

And he’s dead. Four days ago, Sridevi died and I couldn’t sleep whole night. It wasn’t like I was a big fan of the actress or anything but it was just shocking. Not something you expect to read right before you sleep, that a middle aged actress died suddenly, just like that.

This morning, my ex-classmate passed away. A young, budding entrepreneur, an innovator, a guy who had worked and founded many NGOs to help children…gone too soon. Just like that.

And now this pigeon. I know it is just a pigeon but I am tired of death. It is just unfair. Life doesn’t make sense. I tried to do a good deed but now I feel so guilty.

I wish I could help him.

Chit Chat-3

Me: Hey! You there? ☺️

He: Yup. What Happened? 🤔

Me: Nothing. ☺️

He: Enjoying the food at home?

Me: Yeah, mom made Dosa, Sambhar and chutney! 😛

He: Even I want to eat Dosa. 😭

Me: I know how to make Dosa. I’ll make it for you next time.

He: Yay!!!!😍

Me: Plus my mom makes this really incredible peanut chutney. I’ll ask her for the recipe and we’ll try to make that too.

He: Idiot, that’s coconut chutney not peanut.😑

Me: Mental, there are all kinds of chutney: coconut, peanut, mix. You have limited knowledge regarding South-Indian dishes so shut up!😤

He: Okay ji.😳

Me: And my mom’s Sambhar is awesome too. She makes it differently, like a south Indian dish with a northern twist. I’ll learn to make that too.

He: Hmm… Great!😊

Me: Btw I was horny.😈

He: What!!! When?😯

Me: When I texted Hey! You there?🙈

He: Then?🤔

Me: Then we started talking about Dosa, sambhar and chutney.🙄

He: And now you are horny for food.😝

Me: hehe…yes.😂

He: haha 😂

Me: We are a weird couple.

He: I know. ❤️


(Chit-Chat: A series where I record conversations between me and my guy. Read the previous ones here. )

To Be A Woman…

I think I need to write today,

For I saw a woman with a broken spine,

And an unsound mind,

Talk about her daughters,

Who were beaten up for dowry.

I think I need to write today,

For I saw poverty, in its feminine form,

Passing on from generations,

Women going through cycles of abuse,

Neglect and exploitation

Only to be reminded that they are nothing

but machines to produce children.

I think I need to write today,

For there is nothing else I can do,

To reassure a woman and a mother,

That there is light at the end of this tunnel,

For I see no light.

It is a dark world out here,

This is no place to be a woman.


Today was one of those several days when I was again left speechless, helpless and just disappointed with the human race. Growing up in a small town and having most of my relatives in villages I have heard of several stories where women were beaten up, by mother-in-laws, alcoholic husbands, their own sons, daughter-in-laws etc. I have heard of women giving birth in jungles. I have heard of women losing their babies or dying themselves while giving birth because the roads were blocked and the hospitals were kilometers away. Many of these women are my distant sisters, aunts, nieces, women I have known.

And countless others are suffering every minute, every second of the day.

I met a woman today, in her late fifties; she fell down from her terrace and broke her spine. The family being poor kept her at the village for a week, hoping her to improve on her own. Finally a relative who is slightly better off asked them to come to the city and see a doctor. The doctor wanted to conduct an immediate spinal cord surgery. All relatives collected money and somehow the surgery was done but it would take years for her to do anything on her own, plus they can’t afford physiotherapy. Plus, the woman doesn’t remember anything beyond that incident. She is having some trouble with her nervous system.

Turns out she had some mental health issues right from the time her first two daughters were married off because both were harassed for dowry and beaten up by their husbands and mother-in- laws. She blamed herself and their poverty for the condition of her daughters. She was too scared to marry off the third one but her condition improved when the third daughter found a good family and was happy. Slowly even the first two daughters were doing okay (which means gave birth to sons and the physical abuse stopped)

Finally when all  the things were looking to fall into place, baaaaam, she fell down the terrace.

Now the third (happily married) daughter is looking after her. The other two daughters aren’t yet informed that their mother is injured (for they won’t be allowed to see her anyway so why trouble them). She has no sense of the present world; she just stares at people, talks absurdly, claps midway, and lies down on her bed.

And in this one family I saw so many wrongs I could do nothing about:

*A woman in need of physical and mental health facilities but too poor to afford it.

*Woman who needed to give birth to four children, 3 elder girls and the youngest boy, (well, the youngest is always a boy.)

*Women beaten up for dowry.

*Women having no rights over their bodies or any choices (not even a choice to see their ailing mother), accepting domestic abuse as their destiny.

* Women treated as nothing but a baby making machine (a son making machine more specifically)

And what am I doing?

I am writing a blog because my privileged, upper caste, middle class, highly educated and qualified ass is too lucky to rant about these things on the internet.

I feel disgusted with myself.

I don’t wish to belittle the troubles everyone faces at different points of time in their lives but don’t you think all this is just too much for a single person? And why do such things happen in this world? Why aren’t we concentrating on humanity above everything else?

The world is just too disappointing. Especially for a woman.