Coming Home

So much flexibility to the definition of home over the years… What started of as the brick and mortar of the family and abode of childhood memories to something that can even fit in your head without any tangible existence.

Home is in the calmness of mind.

Home is where resides the deepest of sleep

Home lies in the confidence of running blind

Home is where dreams sway high and deep

Home happens where no shackles bind

Home brings the security of making the leap

I have been running away from the establishment of this home thinking that it is only going to limit my journey. I fear of being a river that simply lies put in a dam only to burst in sprints; I want to keep flowing – straight or curving, fast or slow – and make the slow yet mesmerizing progress in search of the vast ocean. This fear almost becomes a box with no windows or doors which keeps evaporating every ounce of energy.

Now home is where I am. And where I choose to just be.

Inspired by Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is “Ho” – Find a word with the two letters–“ho”–in that order.


Lucky, Luckier & Luckiest


How many times have you failed in life?

If you can answer, is it because you keep count or that you have hardly ever failed?

Are you lucky that you have not had many failures? Are you luckier that you have had just enough failures to shape up? Are you the luckiest that you don’t see them as failures?

I don’t have a clear answer.

I would not go to the extent to call myself “Destiny’s Child” (damn! I really used this term, didn’t I?). But I can safely say that I have always been in the good books of fate or lady luck. Maybe I am her favourite pawn to test out theories that revolve around sheer good luck? Things have mostly fallen into place pretty easily – I haven’t really had to toil and shed blood and pant my way to the finish line.

That said, I have had some ‘failures’ in my life. Why the quotes? Because wise people would have called them stepping stones or life lessons.

One major one was on stage few years back that I have written about fairly recently. That taught me humility and the importance of keeping faith in myself. At least, that is what I feel now! Another one rocked my confidence at a critical junction. I couldn’t crack the interview at my ‘dream’ institute for my MBA. I thought that is when I had used up the Midas touch luck had bestowed on me.

I did get into another one equally good and the rest is history. And I thought I got over the rejection. Except that on my way to work, I pass the institute twice a day. And I torture myself by looking at the sign and feel the years of “experience” and “learning” melt away. I am back to stomping my feet. Bloody hell! I wanted an admit there.

Another cliche “it’s fate” is perfect here! This is where I feel that maybe I belong to the luckiest category. That interview was my first one ever and taught me lessons no other rejection has managed.

It also brought me to Goa and more importantly kept me away from Pune where I stay presently. Destiny was hard at work! She led to me to my present company and made me shift here at the most perfect time. The house I stay. The people I live with. And the people staying around. It made me re-establish contact with the right someone at the right time at the right place – Mr. D. A little earlier or later would have probably meant goodbye to what we have now. And that is not the price I’m willing to pay for that admit letter.

Or anything else for that matter.

Every time I tripped, I learnt to laugh at myself and keep faith; perseverance was secondary. Turns out, it was just one step closer to the greater plan sketching out.

That doesn’t mean I don’t feel those pointy twinges of failures – but I can live with them.

What are your stories with luck and fate? Are you the lucky, or the luckier, or the luckiest? I was propelled by Linda’s SOCS prompt “-est.” Base your post on any word you can add the suffix “est”.


Second Chances

I gave a second chance to this spaghetti. Tasted too tangy at first… And then.. YUMMY!!

A few hours back, I came upon a Facebook update from a schoolmate announcing her engagement to a guy with the weirdest name. I smirked, I laughed and I joked about it with a couple of friends of mine… I admit, I was being petty and mean.

The two of us never really managed to get along in spite of studying together for five years. Maybe it was the consistent rivalry over academics or attention from men folk (she totally used to get extra flirty and giggly with the boyfriend much to my resentment) or fashion… Maybe it was a clash of completely opposite personalities that never really warmed up to each other’s quirks. But here I was, seven years older and supposedly wiser, still giggling over the ridiculous name of her fiance. It left a bad taste in my mouth; I had still not forgiven her for all those taunts and paltry arguments.

A part of me still gives people the leeway of only one strike. Even if we patch up, there is a part of me that smarts unconsciously. It is difficult to give them a second chance – to forgive AND forget and simply move on. A little hypocritical as I am surprisingly lenient about forgiving myself for my misdeeds! I have handed myself not just a second chance but probably a billion ones with chocolate ice-cream!

I thought that I had finally learned to put my faith on the line even though it has been broken multiple due to circumstances often not in anyone’s control and well… Look at the smug feeling that gleefully roared when I saw she landed up with someone with such an absurd name while I ensnared a goldmine. Oh Seeeet!!!

I am still trying to get around sending her a private congratulatory message and let that awful rivalry behind me for once and for all. As I write this, I think of all other small things that hurt me (which I barely remember) and the perpetrators (whom I recollect to the last pore on their face). It is not a good feeling to hold on to such memories.

I am slowly starting to forgive those people mentally even if they are not really aware of it – chances are they don’t care either. Good news is, I established firm contact with one of them a year back and now she is one of my closest friends!

So let me help myself to a glass of wine. And then a second one. And send out a hearty congratulations message to her while maintaining a perfectly straight face as I type… “Wish you and ABC all the happiness in the world”

Sorry. I still couldn’t help but break into a laugh. God! His parents hate him I think 😀 😀

Sorry. Straight face.


Brought to you by the good Linda Hill hosting the SOCS with the prompt “Second

Stage Fright


If only I had walked back on that stage… 

I used to keep questioning myself for a long time on the above “If” of my life and I have no answers. This used to make an ugly entrance in my thoughts every time I was up for a presentation or public speaking (ironically supposed to my significant strength).

I was 20 and was in the final round of extempore. I was really confident as I had racked up quite a few winning certificates in the past couple of years. I don’t know what happened. Maybe it was the saying “Pride comes before the fall” coming to life? I got the topic and I started off really well! And Bang! Before I know it, I have come to a pregnant pause. I am looking at those hundreds of people and I forget everything. I fumble. I grasp. And I walk-off. I went into a corner backstage and had this minor panic attack. What had just happened? My friends and professors were gobsmacked! Later, the judges offered a second chance and without knowing or understanding why, I refused.

And I never discussed those seconds with anyone. I am not sure if my parents were even aware of it.

The aftermath was, I stayed clear of the stage for almost a year. In my final semester, my professors convinced me to try one more time for a smaller event. It was a different me on the stage. Quiet and earnest – it did end up giving me a second place and the much-needed confidence boost.

But every time I faced an audience, the inside me was a deer caught in headlights. I tighten ed up with that awful swallowing feeling. I had to work hard to mute the scared voice and hit straight, for the sake of my team members and grades. My two years in university ensured I had enough time to contain the panic germ into a small corner. And three years into the corporate I am back in my element, albeit quiet and restrained.

I was attending a stand-up comic show with the line-up being a mix of first-timers and upcoming comedians. Through the two hour show, there were some brilliant, some cringe-worthy and some truly awful jokes shared and bantered around. While some made our tummies ache, some did not even deserve the customary crack on the smile. But being so close to the stage, I saw all the standard signs. The sweat on the brow, the flickering of eyes, the slight tremble of the fingers.

For a moment, I was 20 again when I had depended on the support from my friends and professors in the audience to attempt the hard climb back up to the stage and thrive. Which is why every comedian yesterday got a huge round of applause from us – at times, it is not the content that carries you to the next level but just the encouraging audience.

And it also brought back my nagging question to which I STILL have no answer. What if I had taken the second chance?

What would have happened then?

Linda has come up with a thoughtful prompt of “if/then” on her Stream of Consciousness Saturday!




When was the last time your mouth followed your heart? Where there were no filters on your tongue and no Darwin’s natural selection at work with your words…

Isn’t this what makes  children so fabulous? The ability to speak their mind without giving two hoots about what they are actually speaking? I am not saying to be careless and drop inappropriate comments at the drop of that hat – simply let your heart have its way instead of the muddling brain editing what you are looking to express.

There have been so many moments filed away in my brain that if I open them, I invariably wish that I had spoken instead of choosing to remain silent. And what I noticed was that I was also repressing the GOOD things and not just the snide & sarcastic remarks (absolutely well-deserved though). I was doing it by keeping quiet, maintaining a neutral face and reigning in the urge to give those impulsive hugs!

I have little experienced in theater and mime was my absolute favourite – the scope of storytelling through expressions is tremendous and most enjoyable. Every day we used to exercise our faces and the control our features into putting together the emotion we want to showcase – happiness, greed, anger, fear, greed, insanity, love – you name it, we did it. I learnt the true power of our faces and the depth of feelings it can project.

It came out insanely well during out post-graduation when our communications professor made us all recite this very stupid passage in a serious dramatic mode …. In front of a video camera!!! So that we could look at our recordings and study our verbal and non-verbal patterns. The output was hilarious with people trying to keep a straight face while narrating. It resulted in this video by this creative guy, who put together the bloopers and shy smiles and bursts of laughter uncontrolled during this exercise to Say by John Mayer – And the line “Say what you need to say” kind of ended up as our motto.

A motto that I wish I could go back to or at least, work towards! And let go instead of holding back on that compliment or that apology or simply a thank you. Expressing involves more than one person which is beautiful!


Linda’s prompt at Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “Press.” Find a word that starts with press-, ends with -press, or use “press” as a word all by itself and responsible for filling me with the touching memories of university! 🙂