Author-Krishna Panda

Date- 30/03/2010





Every evening Subhodhan sat near his window and gazed at the orchard. The birds would pack up their pebbles, dusts, fragments of what they collected to their nest. The big orange sun asusual would settle far wide beyond the horizon. Within the blink of eyes the day would turn to dusk. Subhodhan would place his radio on the other end of window and listen to some fine colloquial songs. His left leg Hallux would move to the tune of those random songs and his stare traversed through the window and made way to his most treasured orchard. The orchard has been his companion since eons. After listening to few songs, he used to switch off the radio and preferred to walk through the memory lane.


Old age has its own fine texture. The legacy of silence, the royal wooden oscillating teak chair, the white pyjama,  and years of stories that life bring along with it to make the old age reminisce the epoch times. Solitude has a tale unfolded within it. Not everyone, mostly the younger generation, are willing to listen and sometimes are thought not worthy to share. Often, that which occupy the most of our mind are preferred to be left alone. They are irrelevant, yeah they are! Like when Subhodhan met his wife in the sweet stall in 1982, he fell from his cycle. That spur of the moment when his wife turned towards him, watching him fall and finally bursting into laughter is not worth it to share to this generation. Agree it or not but Subhodhan was embarrassed ever since then and found it too irrelevant to ever talk to anyone how he felt when love happened on first sight.



Sigh! All said and done.


That evening was different. Turned to 67 yrs doctors have repeatedly warned him to get admitted to hospital sooner, for he was suffering from blood cancer. Subhodhan knew he had very few days left but still was reluctant to shift to hospital. Oh how could he! It was his wish to spend the last moments of his life in his cottage with the memories of his beloved wife. The pain of leaving aside belongings is way too much hard than any disease could make one feel. He had made up his mind if he would leave his cottage, then it will be his dead body only. The decision was final. Not to die and rut in hospital before death comes.


It was like yesterday Subhodhan’s wife left him alone after giving birth to a girl child, Shruti. He felt destiny was unruly. But time with its healing touch took away his grudges against destiny soon when Shruti with her tiny foot and sonorous voice echoed throughout the entire orchard and cottage. He then realized destiny also gifted Shruti to him. Henceforth it was no turning back for Subhodhan. He devoted his entire life in the upbringing of his daughter, Shruti. Ah,Shruti married last month.


Sitting by the window with a tea cup, gazing at the trees, memories flooded. The first meet with his wife ,the rainy night when he proposed her ,their marriage, their mutual decision to decorate their own cottage with an orchard in the backyard ,the moments of intimacy shared by them in the orchard, all made him lost. Nostalgia gheraoed him. 

Handwriting letter with pen

He sat down to write a letter to Shruti as he knew that Shruti always loved to read his letters. The last time Shubhodhan wrote to Shruti was the night before her marriage. He picked up the pen that was gifted to him by Shruti when she got her first job. From then on Subhodhon treasured the pen.




           A lot to say but no strengths to express, my child. God has been very kind to me. When she took your mother away from me, He gifted me an angel. Never did I shed tears from then on. Since then you have been my support, my guide, my smile, my hope, my sole reason of being alive. More than a daughter, you have been my best friend. I wondered always why you never asked about your mother! May be because you were scared that I would be hacked off by your questions. But I could always read your eyes. You once asked me why do I often sit near the window and stare at the orchard. Due to my prolonged silence, you never ever asked me after that. May be today I am able to tell you the reason. Once I and your mother had a brawl. I sat at this place and looked at the orchard just to ignore her. Your mom whispered in my ear something and then we never had any fights. She told me, “just to ignore me, you are looking at the orchard. One day when I will not be there, it will be this orchard that will make you remind me.” She was right that time.


    May be when you read this letter I might not be alive. Take care of our cottage and orchard. This will be the tribute to your father. Always stay happy.


Lovingly yours,




As the letter ended, Subhodhan took his last breathe and closed his eyes forever.

#93 Adhe adhure shabd/INCOMPLETE WORDS


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#92 Rendezvous


There is an alluring enigma

When the doors of dark clouds open

Maybe tonight love has made the knock

She sits aghast collecting thoughts hitherto

To tie them in a bundle and put inside the drawer of her heart .


Slow winds, ambiguous, alienated blow pass her

As the moon beans enter through the glasses of her lonely window

She peeps out and ask the moon in hesitation,

“For what is this love nothing more than emotion in the language of heart

And a hype for a bewildered mind?”


The moon in quaint begins her tale

“LOVE they talk, they do , they feel is all but love

Anger,jealousy, sacrifice, possessive -ness,protective, silence,restlessness Et al are but myriad forms of love. Hence formless.

Love is but everything you experience. It comes with limitations, infinity, conditions.  You see my dear, love unconditional is also a condition.

When was love conventional that a heart could free flow?

Love is the first mating of innocence with heart

At the touch of love lovers get redefined . Hence there’s birth of new.  But I tell you nothing ever changes, It just changes form.

Love is not strength, It exposes the vulnerability, the devil inside gets insecured, the ages get challenged with forever

Heart don’t break in love ,they just scatter, for love is not the creator but the flow within the creation.

The lonely space trembles by thoughts of togetherness

Love  blows you away only to bring closer to yourself.

Love is doubt, question,fear,loss

But then it’s beautiful

For the beauty of trees is in its fruits

But solace from trees is in its shadows.”



As she was sleeping last night, she was wondering has she reached the stage of womanhood. Has she been independent by her thought process, independent in her life?

We often mistake non-interference as independent. Like if we hate people prying into our private lives, interfering in our decision making, we call ourselves enough to be an independent. But it has nothing to do with independency, she thought. She peeped out of the night glass and saw the pristine clouds floating aimlessly, without any barriers, without any stop, limitless in their journey. Some crossed the moon in a jiffy and some walked past the stars. The moistened breeze caressed her parched heart. Oh how she yearned for rains and finally is blessed with it.

Few days back a thought cropped up in her mind, like her innerself often gets in touch with her.


“You are looking for a perfect man. But the question is, are you a perfect woman? You want your man to treat you like queen but do you meet the standard sets of being a queen? If you expect him to cook for you, do all that you want, are you willing to pay the same price? Are you perfect enough to look for a perfect?”

Gosh! She was totally clueless about it. She fought back vehemently, “Why damn why? Life makes you compromise a lot in reality, why to compromise in dreaming? Why to compromise in wanting best? Wanting any less of you is heinous crime. Period.”

Back came the reply from within, (more like a reality check), “Raise your standards and then talk to me. Think about it than arguing. You know I am right.”

But in all this while she realized one thing. She has to work a lot to be matured enough for transforming from being a girl to a woman.

“Mom, I need to make some structural changes in my thinking process.”

“Why? Why did you say so?”

“What I am looking for may not be what I need actually. May be I am floating in bubbles and it will land me in a nowhere land.”


The Watsapp buzzed with Happy Woman’s day. She decided to not revert back. Damn! she has to do a lot to switch to womanhood. Maturity and foot in reality is top in her priority.


Her mom picks up the phone. A call from her very intimate friend.

Her mom began, “Hi Bharti, Long time. Yesterday I was thinking about you. How are you?”

“Charu, Happy Woman’s Day. To the one of the finest woman I know.”

Her mom beamed with happiness, “Thank you so much and wish you the same.”

Their talks went on.



She got nostalgic how she saw her mother extremely ecstatic after reuniting with this friend after eons. They used to be college buddies. With time and demands from life and distance between them somewhere their friendship took a back step. Once a school staff visited her mom’s school and was chatting with her when her mom discovered that the staff belonged to the place where she did her college. She mentioned about her this friend to which the staff said, “Ya, she is now a Professor in so and so college.”

Her Maa’s happiness left no bounds and should she pen a letter to her or not, should she get in touch or not left her in a quandary. It’s obvious, time and distance often create blocks in relationships. What mattered eons back may not make sense now? When seasons change, world change, why can’t people?

But still then she dared to listen to her heart and not her mind. She penned on a small chit of paper-


Dear Bharti,

Its been too long. I am Charu. If you remember me please do give a call on this number.

The staff on her next visit to her native place gave this chit to Bharti

The Phone Rung after few days.

Her mom picked up the phone.

“How dare you Charu? How could you? (Plethora of emotions, heavy voice and incessant tears made way in her Bharti’s voice.) Where were you all these years? How can I ever forget you? I think of you. Tried to know about your whereabouts but still couldn’t get any. When I saw this communication from you, can you imagine how am I feeling now? I threw my lunch and called back you immediately.”

After returning from school her mom was overwhelmed and shared this story with her. Then the two friends immediately met after two to three days and they bared their heart and gone era with each other. Their friendship extended to their families also.


She actually got a taste of their depth-ness in their friendship when she went with her mom to Bharti’s home for attending her son’s marriage. Bharti took her mom to show the little sweater which her mom gifted to Bharti’s son in his first birthday and also showed many little things, snaps and all. That was nothing at all. Her entire family talked with her mom like they never drifted and her mom was a part of their family.

While returning back to home post marriage her mom interrupted, “You are always fond of this Amar Prem movie and wished something in real life could exist like the story.”

She answered awestruck, “Yes.”

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“Bharti’s elder sister is a doctor. During her medical days she was in love with a boy. But due to family responsibilities she took the charge of her family and made a decision that until and unless she settles all her brothers and sisters, she won’t think of settling down. During those times Bharti’s father expired. True to her commitments she made all her brothers and sisters married. They were 9 of them. Many blocks came and many unwanted situations rose. Sometime it was family and sometime it was career as she was one of the finest doctor of the city, but she couldn’t marry. Must tell you She‘s very very beautiful. But the man who loved her during her medical days waited for her patiently. It was kind of silent love between them. And… and… and, at the age of 58 they both married though she wanted to remain unmarried because of age factor. She always insisted the man to marry but the man hesitated because he wanted to support her in all her decisions.  You see, that’s a kind of Amar Prem.”



She came back to the moment. Saw her mum super happy. “Mom, Happy Woman’s day and triumph to the finest two ladies who have kept the flame of their friendship ablaze even after time, distance, and responsibilities. Kudos!”

So, here’s to all the ladies who are living a life of their own, apart from their families, keeping their own commitments, relationships that time has gifted them during their growing years, who are having a life of their own beyond husbands and children, wishing you all a Happy Woman’s day. Celebrate the individual YOU.




#90 Raasleela



Slight drizzle moistened the parched earth. The vast azure was all set to brace the new season that’s showing up. I whispered in my mind amusingly, “Ah God, great are your ways! Seems like all the Gopiyas and Krishna are ascending to Mathura to play the Raasleela. Oh, You again will entice them with the charmer’s flute and they will be one You. Enough of it. Focus on day’s affair,Krishna.”

While leaving for office the voice echoed, “Come home early, Nupur. Today God will visit home.”

“Let’s see, Maa. Will try.”



“Nani, this is a beautiful Krishna. Let’s get Him home.”


At home:

Mom- Don’t. The place of God should always be separate. Place Krishna in our Thakur Ghar. It’s Krishna overall.”

“But why?”

Mom started  sharing her thoughts candidly. Just thoughts.  Never her beliefs. After all she is that audacious lady who never believes in thrusting her belief system on her children. But then we love listening to her.

She went on.


“You know Krishna is that kind of attachment which will make you hollow from within and you can’t also stop that. See, Meera wanted to discharge all her duties as a wife, daughter-in-law but she was left with no other choice but just being one with Krishna. When Krishna sets His eyes on someone, you can’t just get away. There will be rejection from all strata to win acceptance of Krishna. Krishna will take everything from you because  either He wants whole of you or nothing of you at all.


You know the famous story of Sakhi Gopal. There was once a girl in the village who used to worship Lord Krishna. Krishna was so impressed with her devotion that everywhere the girl saw Krishna. When she used to go to the nearby river to get a bath, she will spot flute on the rocks adjoining to the river. When she will be swinging she will spot peacock wings nearby. She will see dreams of Krishna at night. So much such that she became one with Krishna. The villagers nearby spotted this and one fine night they followed her and saw her sleeping at Krishna’s temple. To this her father got very reactive and fixed her marriage immediately. On the day of marriage, the girl left this earthly realm. They say, she was Radha who became one with Krishna and henceforth she was worshipped in the Krishna’s temple as Radha. That’s the history of Sakhi Gopal’s Radha pag darshan.

Almost anybody who has been with Krishna has always a sense of incompleteness. Maa Lakshmi has this pain in her heart that being wife of Krishna she could never be the love of Krishna. The world calls Krishna with Radha. Radha has this tribulation in her life that her love remained incomplete and Krishna and she could never be one. Yoshoda, Nandi had this unfulfilled wish of being forever with Krishna.

Krishna says,” I am love.” You know by that what he means? Leave every worldly attachment. Denounce everything and I am all yours. Love is when you have nothing to lose, you get love. You get Krishna. Gopiyan lost everything, denounced worldly pleasures and surrendered to Krishna. Love comes with tribulations, unfathomable in frequency. In that pain you become Krishna. Krishna is a deep mystery. Nobody knows.”

Telephone rings:


Maa- Ae, Are you coming? A lot has to be done. Lord will come.

Me: It’s Krishna. Wait, I will be in time. They will bring Krishna at 8pm. Relax.

Maa: But still then…

I smiled. Wah re Krishna! Wah! You know how to make everyone restless. 🙂 Let the season of color begin , let us dance to your tune. We love you in all your pains and rejections.




Krishna Panda

Jan 6,2011


A visit to mom’s paternal house always leaves an indelible mark in the realm of my mind. The religious atmosphere, melodious sunsets, and melancholic reunions with dear ones are some of the precious moments that give a thousand and more reasons to keep on visiting this place till eternity. Ah! Who can forget that instant connection with some strangers who happens to be loved by my heart so much that they always turn to be a smile on my face at times of miseries. Nothing changes here. Neither the wind, the moon, the dusty evenings nor the school playgrounds, the trees, the emotions, love and a certain feeling of belonging that makes everyone feel at home. In nutshell, one needs to be assured that this place is a feel -good factor for anyone who seeks solace for heart and mind.


Last month I was there to attend my cousin’s marriage. When I reached there the usual Indian tradition of touching innumerable elders’ feet and enquiring about their well being took a hell lot of energy from me that day.


“What the heck! My backbone will break today, sis. When will these orthodox Indians grow up? Can’t a simple hello serve the purpose?” I uttered disgustingly.

“Behave yourself, Nur. Hello is to greet people in a formal way. By touching elders’ feet, you receive blessings. Mind it!”Said my matured sister in her usual calm and composed tone.


After walking a few distance, the lady in white caught my eye sight. Nevertheless, she remains the same gorgeous lady I have seen in my entire life. The audacity of her voice and the spark in her oceanic blue eyes commands respect from each and every one. Her charisma castes a magical spell. The smile on her face unfurls a rare beauty like a blossom with petals curled tightly concealing the beauty within. When she talks an unwritten epic comes alive to be heard. She is an angel to whom people love so fondly. I named her Pushpa, the flower who is the epitome of beauty and love. Pushpa is my granny in a distant relationship.

“God! You have grown up so soon. How are you, my child? I missed you,” said my sonorous Pushpa in an emotional tone.


She hugged me tightly. I could feel her heart beats beating faster than a running train as if restless to share something very precious. And why not? Irrespective of our generation gap we have always made sure that we remain each other’s best friends. This time I had something important to say her…. something that she was craving for so long which could help her to stay alive for rest of her life. All I wanted was some privacy with her.


After a hell lot of preparation, it was time for the Sangeet ceremony. The night was violent and so were the surroundings. The stage was all set to be rocked by my cousins who had been practicing dance steps whole day to burn the dance floor. There was an aura of enthusiasm, wildness and excitement. Music, drinks, colorful sherwanis, and sparkling lehengas, the ultra modern decors, delicious food, funny games and an infectious smile on everyone’s face added euphoria to the unforgettable night.


But the lady in white was nowhere to be spotted. My eyes were searching her. Finally I stole some moments from the Sangeet ceremony to look for her. Pushpa was sitting in front of Grandpa’s portray. I sat near her. I expected she would ask me to join the Sangeet Ceremony but to my utter surprise she didn’t ask me. Her silence spoke manifolds words. In the chaotic Sangeet night I felt certain calmness in the air when I glared deep into Pushpa’s eyes. Her forehead was not shinning bright with Sindoor this time. Pangs of nostalgia of my last visit flashed in front of my eyes.

* * * * * * * * * *(FLASHBACK)**********

“Nur, hurry up. We are getting late,” shouted my father.

“Study well. Take care and visit me soon,” Pushpa grinned.

“No, it’s you who will come to visit me next time. No excuse, mind you. Take care of Grandpa.”

“And, who will take my care?” asked a worried Pushpa.

“Common sweetheart! I am always there for you. You don’t need anyone.”

On my way to home, in a casual talk with mom, I told her about Puspa’s sindoor.

“It shines so bright. She looks like a Diva. She stands out from rest of the wives.”

Mom smiled and began telling Pushpa’s story. It was quite poignant and shocking story.

The marriage of Pushpa and Grandpa was fixed by their parents. On the night of their marriage, Grandpa left his home to marry his childhood sweetheart. Pushpa’s life got a major blow when she couldn’t marry any one as she was tagged as the unfortunate lady whose groom absconded on the night of marriage. After 10 years, Grandpa’s wife died out of cancer and he was compelled by his parents to marry Pushpa. He had then four children. Pushpa did all that it could make her to win Grandpa’s heart. But Grandpa could never accept her as her wife. In fact, everybody loved her except grandpa.

Tears welled from mom’s eyes after completing Pushpa’s story. A thought stuck me that time. Is this what love is? Relentless sacrifice for lifetime? Selfless surrender?

And one fine morning on Christmas eve, Uncle called up to inform us that Grandpa was no more. It was like sky falling on me. Tears after tears. It was impossible to stop the flowing emotions of mom. With a heavy heart all I could manage to do at that time was to pray God. Neither the Christmas passed soon, nor could I manage to give a smile. On that night in the mid hour when the universe was sleeping, came he, Grandpa from amidst the clouds.


“Nur, Can we talk?” said he.

“You! I hate you Grandpa. You never cared your whole life about her who gave her life to you. Good or bad, she always loved you. Do you ever realize it?”I said with a lump in my throat.

“Now you are going to complete my incomplete job. Please let her know that I loved her to life and far across I am waiting for her.”His soft voice reached my eyes.


The moment paused for a while. A thin sheet of air touched my forehead. I could sense Grandpa. I woke up from the bed only to realize that it was midnight. The dogs were barking loudly on the street and the horizon was covered with a thick layer of fog making everything look hazy.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * NOW**********************

“Nur, what are you doing here? The Sangeet ceremony is on and we all want you on the dance floor, “a cousin summoned me excitingly.

Puspa looked at me. I clutched her fingers and whispered in her ears, “He told me in my dreams that he loves you a lot and far across he is waiting for you. Trust me, I am not lying.”

Never ever in my life I was too desperate trying to convince someone of my words even if I was sure of myself that I was speaking the truth. Heebie-jeebies were flowing through my veins.

“I trust you, darling. Before closing his eyes, he told me about you,” chuckled Pushpa.

Looking dumfounded  I asked her, “what?”

“About some last words which he wanted to tell me through you.”


Tears rolled down from each other’s eyes. It was an emotional reunion. I wish, I could tell Pushpa how much I loved her. But I knew she was always capable to read my eyes. I could hear a song being played at the Sangeet which I thought was perfect for this love couple.

‘No one knows how our love story is,

Like a dream our love story is,

Like the colors’ of life

Is my love for you….

Not a second could I stay away from you

But don’t know why I couldn’t say you

Only you are my destination..

No one knows how our love story is

Like a dream our love story is….’

The Sangeet ceremony went on. But somewhere deep inside my heart there was a strong urge, rather a silent prayer to God….May these love birds unite forever and especially my lady in white get all that she deserves, no matter how and by which way.


#88 An introspection


As you grow up you learn how important it is to keep by your side people who don’t give up on you, people who stand during your worst times, people who understand the reason for why you are being the way you are or in a certain way you have changed to… People who are kind to you, giving you your space, the silence, your privacy you need at times, the firmness of their words and their blind trust on you, understanding you and respecting and valuing the time of your life you give to them. It may be just one person or many. There may not be any but it is worth it to find atleast one in the vicinity. As you grow up you learn, it is for these people, moments in life are worth living for. Rest are just chaos, transient and a smile that comes in the spur of a moment and disappear in a jiffy.
Maturity is knowing that you don’t need all the people to spend an entire life. You just need those few genuine people in the journey of life who are compassionate, kind hearted and hitting the right cords of heart to have that unsaid, felt cosmic connection with whom you can share yourself…ney the best part of yourself.

#87 x Gramophone

Hello Good morning!

Hope you all had a fantastic Xmas. As of me this time I stayed away from celebrations because I seriously had one Sunday of this year which fell on Dec 25 and I am too miser to share my Sundays with anyone. I have been celebrating the whole of December with my sister. So now when she’s back to her place I thought of organizing my life and plan out my rest of life. Why? Because people are one part but your actions and life is all total a different game. If your actions are well worked out everything else falls into place…Your life, people, relationships et al.

Saturday- Dec 24, 2016:

Knocked Out Stuffed Chair With Torn Patches And Stitches Emoji

The director rushes into my chamber.

  • Do you have any idea Krishna, if I die; there is no one to take your care. No body!
  • (Giggling) Sir, why?
  • (Anger at top level) Check out your chair! Don’t you think you deserve a better one? (Calls out to peon) Change the chair of Madam. She is the Company Secretary, next to MD. Your Madam never realizes her hierarchy but we have to.
  • (Me in my thought) How do I tell you Sir, I am born with an “everywhere beauty device” due to which everything for me is sheer beauty. I can’t figure out what’s ugly and what’s classy.
  • (Peon gets into my chamber) Madam, 10 years here, never seen him caring so much for someone. I think she takes you as his daughter.
  • (Me laughing): Change the chair. Don’t you see how powerful I am?
  • (Peon): Everything for you is a joke. Will do it.

4:30 pm:

In MD’S chamber. After work discussion gets over.


MD: So Krishna, your sister went.

Me: Sir.

MD: Guess now you are on line for marriage. Your sister is working?

Me: No she was. But now as she is on dependent visa and her daughter is a little one, she’s taking a work break.

MD: (Opens up her daughter’s story) After 20 mins: So the whole thing is that marriage is a phase of life, not life in itself. But then a woman has to strike a balance to her personal and professional life and for balancing one has to compromise on any one aspect of her life. But the real test is how well you balance both the lives with compromises is actually what determines your life.  Yes, your life because women get so lost after marriage that they forget they have a life and their dreams of their own .

Me (in thoughts): Why compromise? Why not integrating both? Why only women? If men involve question of compromise will never come. Integration, I go for it.

MD: Krishna what are you thinking?

Me: (Blinked my eyes and nodded my head)

MD: Think about it. Young people don’t like to be personal but we old people are in a habit of sharing our experiences and wisdom with young ones.

Me: Sir, please do. You are a book of wisdom. Your life inspires me.

25 Dec, 2016:



Mom: Seriously you are not going to join us for picnic.

Me: No Maa. I need rest and serious organization. You go and join the boring outing. Can’t afford to waste my time on others.

Mom: Lonesome.

Me: That’s peace I call, mom.

11:30 am:


Sister (on other side of phone): Tell me how do people settle in their respective life so easily? I am back to seeing you people in photos and videos. Damn marriage life.

Me: Don’t cry yaar. In touch with you. Any time.

Sister: You are in detoxication. What non-sense ideas crop up in your mind. Not even on fb.

Me: I will activate it. Fine Happy?

S: Miss you

Me: You will be back soon. Don’t worry.


A calm, peaceful, simple life passes with just me and me by my side.



Missy: Wassup darling?

Me: Fantastic.

Missy: Your sister?

Me: Khamosi guftagu karne lagi jab labz sath nibhana chor diye.

Missy: Let the silence do the talk. Silence is more solace than well spoken out words.

Me: Hmm.

Missy: But your silence are often very naughty. So better be silent.

Me: Hahaha…I said it in context of my sista.

Missy: Brat , you always have a dual meaning.

Me: I am very reserved kind, missy. You are reading me all wrong.

Missy: you portray yourself very wrong.

Me: stay with me one day and you will know how boring and silent and matured person I am.

Missy: krishna means chalawa. You have many facets of your personality. Nobody knows what you think, what you say and what you do.

Me: this is my tragedy. People don’t trust me enough.

Missy: people trust you but not enough when it comes to matters of your heart.

Me: Uff! So what’s my story, you tell me missy?

Missy: How will I tell your story? You have to acknowledge yourself. Sometimes shoot your conscience, mind, ego, brain, tricks, and wittiness. Surrender and listen to your heart. Like you say “all blank”. Your heart will tell a beautiful story to you which you deny to accept.

Me: Wow so filmy, Missy. Eh?? I am closing my eyes. Here I see Shah Rukh. That’s my story.

Missy: Did I ever say you, gurrrlll, stop controlling your senses?!

Me: Missssyyyyy chup. I have important business to attend.


Dec 25 ends up with all distracting voices hitherto. Back to her action plan. Something within her tells, ” time is running fast. Even dreams have expiry dates. You gotta make a call. Krishna, RUN.  “


My December month has been by far the best of this year and the best thing was meeting my niece after some 2.5 years. She is growing to be a beautiful girl day by day.


Of a dream once I saw

You were the rose

In the orchestra of my life,

Now A little flapping butterfly

Who sits on me, but transient,

A little devil like me

Having the mightiest power on your Massi,

A moon in the night of my thoughts

for whom I have always thought to stay awake

Just to watch you sleep

While I join the stars to frame your name.

You are my Naina(eyes)

Through whom I see this minuscule world

But more than that

Your touch so comforting

Your glance so pious

Your presence so sacred,

They say love is when the world gets still

And your ascend and that sweet Massi call

Gets me a home where I can rest all my worries

And just be me.

Love you, Naina

Before and forever .

And then there is some beauty that shook us from within like shooting star falling from sky and you know not when it fell and how to grasp that click of the moment. Imagine someone who once caught your sight on a coffee table, a sweet happening on a library, a kind gesture by a stranger on a public place, a beautiful remembrance, a twilight when all the birds return to their home and you all of a sudden feel whole, when the sight of a beach gives you beautiful memory of someone whom you thought have forgotten eons back, or a freezing teeth biting cold and in a jiffy you feel all warm , choked and lonely getting reminded of someone (mostly a crush) wondering does that person ever knows your existence or that cute little white puppy who swooned you off your feet or that cute little dimpled smile of a crawling baby or that instant connect with a place or a person or that hands that raise high to bless you for your goodness and you feel a strange kind of solace within- I believe it is in these moments we actually live and rest is just a pursuit to survive.

Among many memoirs till date , yesterday I got this rare click of the moment which I would love to share with you all. Here In odisha, there is a small town named Paradeep (Mainly a port area). Having spent some 10 days here in the last 5 years I must say this is one of the excellent-ly planned and executed town of India. More so of its geographical location. Being a Port area, dusts  make it a little itchy but the stay here is absolutely mesmerizing. With beach, Aqua Park, the meeting point of ocean and river point, the Bhoot Bangla, mammoth ships, organized town life et al gives a visitor an everlasting radiance to his experience.

Yesterday when we stopped awhile near Jagannath temple (my Lord) I zoomed away to the place and was left dumbfounded. Days unknown I have this strange connect with this Lord that every time I am in His Darwar wherefrom all the water gushes through my eyes. It’s too much awkward and that’s why I make it a point to always move away from known ones when I am in a temple because of my this eye watering show. Once in a conversation I mentioned to one of my Mami regarding this who has a mountain of knowledge of scriptures and religion. She said, in a normal voice,” That’s the way of Bhakti marg. Your tears are not pains or burdens but in Bhakti that’s how you wash the feet of God, the Supreme Power.” My cousins made a lot of fun knowing the kind of insane I am. But then, I kind of started living with it.

Yesterday was a evening of skipping heart beats, nervousness, unfathomable and indefinable  solace  and  a familiar silence which is my homely zone.

This is what happened when I was entering. Heard the birds singing the glory of almighty. Wow! Just Wow!


There my Lord, the Rajadhiraaj, the Supreme Power. Lord Jagannath, His sister Subhadra and His elder brother Balabhadra.




Just look at the scenic beauty. No words can ever suffice. So I just let the silence do the talk.


#85 Tête-à-tête


What a beautiful quote! Wow!!!

I just came back from one of my director chamber…my favourite old man 🙂 Few years back destiny took my mamu away from me . A time when I was not prepared and it was my first encounter with death from close quarter. Pain is more painful when you are not ready for it. But whatever it is life goes on and so have I . Remember someone once told me, ” Let him go.” A magic happened and I moved on. Hah! But still don’t know why I get choked when I think of him.

But then my table calender here mentions ” I am omnipresent but people fail to recognize me.”

Hahaha! My this director I mention above is mamu in disguise. Like today, he always tells me ,” Listen I am not fond of getting into troubles . Just because you are there I am into all this.” True to his words he has been my saviour in this job for two years. I always smile when he talks to me and so much so that he asks me sometimes why do I smile…is he cracking jokes and his major concern that this little girl is too innocent to face the office politics . Hehhehe! And I smile because ‘people we love always touch our hearts with their care, concern, words and action’. No no..not my words, my father’s words.

December comes with weddings, family meets and wiping out unwanted from life. I always felt unwanted are not people but the harshness we hold towards them. A very wise person once told me, ” Nupur , I don’t hate anyone. Because hatred takes me to such a level that one fine morning I forget to hate that person and start loving all over again because the person in hatred is all time in my mind.” By the way hatred has always its foundation in once upon a time extreme love for someone. See how December also brings along with it all good vibes, great memories, and good feelings. 🙂

My new year resolution this time is to read a lot of books. I have marked this year my reading has reduced to a great extent. So this coming year I have thought to read and write a lot about anything and everything.

what more what more what more!!

Yeah, I will not hold any bitterness against anyone. Hahaha! Will let loose the thread from everywhere . Ya, often it happens when we get upset we tend to make sure that those people’s shadow dont fall on our life and we make sure to shut all the doors and windows of our life. But in this way , we are actually holding on to them. The best way to let go is to allow things as they are. Just let them be and so you be. to break free and soar high you need to first cut all the threads and be existent to present.

Bas that’s it.

LASTLY, a little cent of funda gyan.

Whenever you use an example/instance/story to make a conversation or ideas, thoughts or putting forward your point to people, make sure you are classy, choosy and realistic in your examples/instance/story. Observed many a people while discussing important business matters cite examples/compare with daily life vegetables, or a street man blah blah and other such bizarre examples and it makes all the more disgusting and pathetic for the person other side to bear . Your examples/instances from real life/comparisons/stories should be enough thought provoking and inspiring for people to refer. It shows your thought process and class of-course. When I say class, it’s not about your wealth status but your personality. Be a little cautious.

That’s it from my side. enjoy December and welcome to GRAND!




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