Guest Blog

Guest Post #4: Busy Bees


Without much adieu, here’s the guest post by Alisha, do check out her blog “LifeEventsObservation“. Check out her interview here.


Are we ever free? No, we are ALWAYS busy. Timed actions and controlled words. Here’s life:

7:00 wake up
7:30 breakfast
8:00 off to work
9:00 work
10:00 Continue working…

No breathing time, we are too busy to gawk around. We look forward to something new, all the time.  Our attention is hardly on now. While at work, we are looking forward to going home and taking a nap.  When we are almost going off to bed, we plan the next day.  Making plans is not unusual. It keeps us motivated, makes us hop with vigour.

But where’s the time to paint? Where’s the time to read or to sing discordantly? To dance like there’s no tomorrow? Where’s the time for ourselves?

We are following the flock. Be the shepherd and change directions. Routine is boring. Avoid it!! It’s lethal!

I have known amazing people with mind throbbing lifestyles who at the age of 35-40 want to give it all up and withdraw into a normal life. They are the victims of routine. They have a nice car, a beautiful mansion, sons and daughters, loads of money yet they aren’t content.

What’s lacking here?  Time: they don’t have time for themselves.

They, or I say, we are living for the world. We have lost the true meaning and purpose of life. Satisfaction, peace, spirituality, inner happiness: these are all waiting for us to summon them up.

Imagine, you get two options to choose from:
1. At 25: little but enough money to satiate common pleasures, living the life you want to

OR

2. Living like the rest of the world, working hard, saving bank money and touring the world at 65?

I’ll choose the former. I’ll tell you why!

When you’re old, and, well, touring the world, you cannot eat junk food, cause it will trouble your super sensitive digestive tummy. You get cramps in your legs, aches in your back, head, and stomach, almost everywhere. You cannot drink through the night or dance to the blaring music. Your body would need rest, YOU would need rest.

Think about yourself! Do what you want! Hell with the world.

It’s trying to bring you down while it’s already beneath you. Talk to a roadside peddler, know their life, eat at cheap restaurants, board a bus taking you to an unknown place, purchase a ticket of Mission Impossible and sneak into the auditorium screening of Inside out.

Just do it!

It’s hell lot of fun. Be a kid. It’s screaming inside us. Let your craziness take hold of you. Get the door!

Explore the world!

Feel beautiful. 🙂


Thank You Alisha for the support.

PS: I am still open for more guest bloggers and I encourage more to come. If interested then contact me on: itsmayurremember@gmail.com

Blogger Interview

Guest Blogger #4: Alisha Khan Interview


I have been unfair to the guest bloggers who responded to my call. For the delay I have cause I am sorry.

After I published my call for guest bloggers, Alisha responded. I remember her comment on my blog about a few months ago and I followed her. From that day to today, her progress in the blogging world has sky rocketed and left me in wonder how did it happen?

A great writer, fiction and non fiction, Alisha’s blog is amazing and her name “LifeEventsObservation‘ is apt for what she write. She gave answers to some of my questions:


1. Who are you and why do you write?

Considering the extent of the universe and the population dwelling in it, I am a nobody! I am just like a drop of water going unnoticed in the massive ocean. I want to be that drop of water which is prized in a desert.

I’m a nervous jerk born in the beautiful land of Karnataka who stays in Mumbai. I have survived for nineteen years.The St Paul’s High School had imbibed great values in me and now I’m studying Media.

I write because I think that’s what I was made for. It soothes me. It makes me euphoric. It heals. And more than writing is my love for reading. I’ve read over fifty novels, have kept a record of every book I read and that’s what I consider as my greatest achievement. Without writing and reading, I’m valueless or that’s what I think.

2. What kind of stories/posts you enjoy reading most?

I enjoy reading the human interest stories the most. Also horror stories but a good horror story that practically makes your skin crawl is hard to find.

3. Lastly, any tips for readers/Mayur on how to improve their writing?

Keep writing and reading. It helps you discover yourself. What better way to say it than quoting George Martin, “A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.”


Her Guest Blog post(non fiction) will be published on Monday morning so do come back here to check it out.

Thank You Alisha for the support.

PS: I am still open for more guest bloggers and I encourage more to come. If interested then contact me on: itsmayurremember@gmail.com

110 People Died Yesterday


Just yesterday I read this Police Commander’s article.The Loss of Innocence

I work in an online journalism website. Yes, I am an engineer and currently working as a journalist, go ahead judge. I’m almost immune to people’s judgements. Almost.

I started working there from September 1st. My job is simple, putting up stories that we get from our sources. A little editing, a lot of copy pasting. I am trying to get a foothold in my workspace and it is not easy.

But the thing which shocks me is my apathy. Why?

Turn on your news channel, you will find news of murderings, killings, bombings, trade negotiations, rapes and movies. There is a little mention of someone’s accomplishments, like someone winning a Padma Bhushan or a medal in sports. Except cricket, that sport is popular enough.

I read stories about rape, gang rape, killings and all kinds of violence. You will be surprised by the criminal activities happening. I show no reaction to the news. I just do my Job and put up those stories.

Yesterday I told myself to find out how many people died. I wanted to see what’s my limit.

I found out that from midnight to 1700 hrs IST, Exactly 110 humans died. A hundred and freaking ten people. And my estimate can be wrong too!

Untitled

The deceased were Afghan soldiers, Yemen victims, suicides, accident fatalities and at the risk of sounding frivolous other ill fated individuals. Just look at the list I made! I didn’t even write the news headings fully.

If that raises your eyebrows then you have some humanity left. Because I am insensible to the news, I went to have tea after that. I have read enough blogs about death but this is the first time words have not hit me, made me feel the pain associated with it.

Was I shaken? No.

Did I try to find out more about them? No.

I realized later last night at how screwed up I am. Yesterday at least a hundred families were affected, their lives changed drastically, the changes irrecoverable. And me? I am unfazed.

On the other hand, if the news would have been of animal cruelty or fatality I would have been enraged. Maybe I would be, I am no longer sure. But human fatality? No anger, only now do I begin to feel remorse and will try to sympathize more.

Humans are dying out there! Causes might be heart attacks, accidents or hellish terrorist attacks. Humans die agonizing deaths and I am earning money by their deaths.

If a person reading this has lost someone in some horrible event, go ahead spit the condemning words at me.I have earned them after three weeks.

Humans are dying now. I am sure humanity died long ago.

Literary Lion: They Never Did Fall


A 400 word response to Laura’s prompt.

Literary Lion: Fall

Harry waited at the party for his wife, she was running late today. She always runs late these days. He doesn’t mind, in fact he is rather proud of the fact that she is so hard-working.

Georgia is someone he has always admired and more he got to know her the more he fell for her. No, he stopped himself from using that word. He didn’t FALL for her, he instead got elevated. Yes elevated was the proper word here, nothing other than that.

A Girl who deserved better than what she was getting at the time he met her, the fact that she wasn’t scared of chasing what she wanted. She never complained about being in a misogynistic society and neither did she blamed it on her sex for being down the corporate ladder. She knew what she wanted and she chased it.

In his life he never expected a girl to ever settle down, girlfriends came and broke him and left. She had a worse streak with her boyfriends. A year into their relationship she confided the trauma one of her ex boyfriend had inflicted on her. Enraged, Harry was ready to beat the man to a pulp, Georgia with a shy smile on her face said “You can’t, that man is already in prison for what he did.”

It was that point he knew he has to marry her, he has found his partner, he knew Georgia also had the same plans. He loved her and all the baggage that came along with her. She loved him and his baggage. They settled their disputes easily, they never got bored with each and both of them were ready to go head over heels for other. 

She was better professionally, he was better personally. He is not ashamed of making dinner for her, for pouring her a glass of wine to relax her. She spurned his imagination to an extent that he is already published an acclaimed trilogy. She is his muse, he is her support.

Ingenious couples ask them what’s their secret? they say figure it out. They lead by example rather than by words. They revel in their friends achievements and support failures. They do their best to keep up with others, they actually keep up with each other’s lives.

If anyone asks when did they figure out they had fallen for each other, they would laugh.

His train of thoughts was interrupted by her arrival, she had come directly from work. Hair a little disorderly, face a little tired but Georgia did her best to smile. That was what he loved, what she knew he loved, the natural attempts.

They hadn’t fallen, their lives had gotten better.

Let’s see what others have written:

  1. https://thecoolbookworm.wordpress.com/2015/09/17/fall-literary-lion/
  2. https://bencnicholson.wordpress.com/2015/09/17/the-fall-a-response-to-laura-feaseys-literary-lion/
  3. https://thecoolbookworm.wordpress.com/2015/09/17/fall-literary-lion/
  4. https://mandibelle16.wordpress.com/2015/09/17/literary-lion-the-fall-of-uriel/
  5. https://tuckedintoacorner.wordpress.com/2015/09/18/fall/
  6. http://ismithwords.com/2015/09/17/literary-lion-tumble/#comment-3361
  7. https://livehomeandaway.wordpress.com/2015/09/20/pride-and-falls/
  8. https://deliriousantidotes.wordpress.com/2015/09/20/fracture/
  9. https://seriesofadjustments.wordpress.com/2015/09/19/the-descent/
  10. https://deliriousantidotes.wordpress.com/2015/09/20/fracture/
  11. https://livehomeandaway.wordpress.com/2015/09/20/pride-and-falls/
  12. http://viewsfromtheridge.com/2015/09/25/fall/
  13. https://thisismyironlung.wordpress.com/2015/09/25/her-fall/
  14. http://dralimanonlife.com/2015/09/26/literary-lion-after-the-fall/
  15. http://grahamisjustmyname.com/2015/09/28/the-fall-literary-lion/
  16. http://finallyawriter.com/2015/09/27/falling-literary-lion-prompt/

Guest Blog: #3 The Morning


As promised here is the fiction by Kailash Nath. You can see his interview here

You should totally check out his blog.


 

The cool breeze is making me shiver a bit, but it is refreshing. The morning sun is rising and the color of the sky slowly changes from blue to red, color of the blood that covered my body yesterday.
 
Now the breeze is becoming warmer. The warmth resembles the one I felt yesterday when she kissed me.
 
Where am I now?
 
This is a new place, yesterday I was at a different place. It was so clean there but here it is all dirty and that smell… YUCK! What is this smell?!
 
Bowwow… Bowwow…
 
Whose dog is that? Why is it seeing me like that?
 
Ok chalo leave it. Let me enjoy this morning sun. I had enjoyed this many days back, I guess many years back or maybe in the last life. However, now in this new life I am seeing the sunrise for the first time.
 
It is always beautiful from any place I guess.
 
Of course, I have not been anywhere else other than that room yesterday. Today I am here, a place that I do not know.
 
Grah!… this smell is becoming worse. The breeze is carrying it towards me and my nose is burning with that smell.
 
Where is everyone?
 
The person who pinched me yesterday till I cried, the person who shot the video of that, the person who is helping the first one and that woman… that woman who kissed me with all the love in her face.
 
Where are all those?
 
Now the smell is intolerable. I am not going to be here anymore, I cannot take it anymore.
 
What? Why can’t I move?
 
“Please someone help me….” I cried but there is no one who listened.
 
But the dog saw me. It heard my cry.
 
He is coming near. That is really a big doggie, huge. Eyes shining tongue rolling and drooling; the sight of that doggie scared me. His canines are very large, larger than my limbs I guess.
 
I think I made a mistake by crying. This one is sees me as food now. It can have me in one gulp may be. This dog is that huge.
 
Wait. He is not alone; there are 3 more dogs of that size coming towards me.
 
They surrounded me and one of it kept its front leg on me, I tried to move away but I am not able to. This move irritated the dog I guess, he started barking at me. The bark is too loud my ears are ringing. I am afraid now. I cried louder this time, hoping someone would come.
 
The dog became more irritated. He ran on to me and with those huge teeth bit my leg. There is so much pain! There is blood oozing from it. I think the bone broke and the injury is fatal.
 
But just then someone came. I guess God had heeded my prayers.
 
They came and frightened the dogs. They left me and the person who came took me into his arms and said to the other person
 
“See the parents these days. I guess they left her in this dustbin because she is a girl. This is really irresponsible and inhuman.”
 
I didn’t understand those words, but I guess I will understand them in the future…
 
 
PS: This is based on a true incident that happened some days ago where a girl child was thrown into a dustbin just after few hours of birth, and dogs ate some parts. The dead body was found by some of the people living nearby and the police had not found the parents yet. The speculation for leaving a child there is that the child is a girl child. I still can’t believe that people see a girl child as unwanted. Really a pathetic incident and need a change.


 

That was the fiction piece I promised.

PS: I am still open for more guest bloggers and I encourage more to come. If interested then contact me on: itsmayurremember@gmail.com

 

Blogger Interview

Guest Blogger #3: Kailash Nath Interview


After I published my call for guest bloggers, Kailash here responded. I have read his fictions via daily post comments and I can say he is a really talented writer. His blog is full of fiction pieces that will entice you into reading more of his posts.

Without much adieu here is the interview that was supposed to go on yesterday! Sorry about that Kailash. Do check out his blog!


 

1. Who are you?

I am Kailash, and presently working as a Software Engineer. I am 21 years old and Like to sing (Though not a great singer), write, read and also travel.  Theres nothing much other than that to know about me.. 

I started telling stories since I met one of my friend who used to believe everything I say. One day he suggested me to write whatever I say and it becomes something interesting to read and like that i started a story and have got a good feedback from my friends and this encouraged me.

I dont like to say lies like I feel great while writing or something like that as I dont feel so. But whenever I see someone reading my story and telling their opinion I like myself…. So I write to be happy and like myself

 

2. What kind of stories/posts you enjoy reading most ?

At the starting of my reading habit, I used to read novels by Agatha and Sheldon, I.e., Murder mysteries and crime fiction. But later i also read books like TH\he alchemist and The kite Runner, Shiva Trilogy
 which also made me like those genres…..
At present I have written a story of crime fiction and working on a story which is something related to human emotions…..

.3. Lastly any tips for bloggers(myself included) on how to improve writing?

And the tips…. I myself am a amateur writer so I need tips from some seniors… Some of the tips I got were to maintain tempo of the story neatly not rather fast nor very slow… Another tip was to give more attention to the characterisation of the different roles in the story.. anything and everything that a person in the story does should match their character and it should not change drastically….
Thats it about me.

Like I promised, a short interview!

His Guest Blog post(fiction) will be published on tuesday morning  so do come back here to check it out.

Thank You Kailash for the support.

PS: I am still open for more guest bloggers and I encourage more to come. If interested then contact me on: itsmayurremember@gmail.com

Walking My Dog is Heartbreaking


That’s Jimmy, we brought him home in April five years ago. We still don’t know when he was born, we adopted him from the street. This morning when I walked him I couldn’t do it without tears in my eyes.

Walking Jimmy has always been an important task of the day for me, I trained him so I walked him most of the times and not my elder brother. Parents hardly walk him because then Jimmy is the one in control and he is a total brat with my parents. I love walking him, I have used walking him as an excuse to walk away from family when I am angry or sad, I walked him so that I can forget about a girl or I wanted to think things over. He is the perfect companion, always laughing. Sometimes I seriously wonder if he knows my mood and his demeanour changes accordingly, if it does then I don’t know how he does it.

Last couple of days he has taken ill, he doesn’t eat and there is a sprain or muscle injury in right hind leg. He limps. Back when he was healthy, coming home I would be greeted by his sloppy kisses, the thumping of his wagging tail and infinite energy. It was either that reaction to my homecoming or he would fall down asleep because he is too sleepy and my coming home had disturbed his sleep.

But I know he was happy to see me. He looked cute, peaceful in his sleep. I have previously written about him here.

In the last two days, things have changed. Now he wouldn’t get up from the corner of the room that he has occupied. No wagging tails, no drooling tongue and no grinning welcome. He doesn’t even lift his head. My mom cries helpless looking at him. I sit next to him and comb his fur. He had lost weight I can see, his fur is thinning out. The light in his eyes is not the same, he looks in agony.

He is no longer happy to see me.

I took him to the vet and got him checked up. Vet suggested that I would let him rest and if he doesn’t start eating then I should bring him in again today evening. I was glad that mom didn’t come along too, she wouldn’t have kept her cool if she saw him wailing in pain.

He is eating but only sparingly, not with the same viciousness that he used to devour food. I kept my worries in check, kept my emotions in check because only I will be taking him to the vet, only I can stand by and not cry while he wails when injected. But it is so difficult not to.

Today I took him to walk. Usually he is full of energy, he would be the one to lead and I would be the one who is pulled by him. Today his trot was slower, clearly favoring his right leg. Head and tail drooped, he looked so old today. He was already past his energetic days, but today he looked frail.

Frail but stubborn because he still walked his usual long route. I tried to make him walk for less distance, give him rest but he wouldn’t. The whole twenty-five minutes this morning I looked at him walking and it hurt.

I still can’t stop the tears from welling up in my eyes, three hours after. He walked cautiously then suddenly decided he has to lead and try to canter, stop before he would hurt himself. While returning home, he took two steps and stopped, this happened a lot of times. I tried to carry him but he would wiggle out of my hands, he didn’t want to be carried. The bastard has his pride, he has to walk the same distance and he will walk back without my aid.

I tried to encourage him, telling him thoda dur (just a little far) but my throat clenched up in a try or two. All I could do was to touch his back and hope he gets the message. He always sits downstairs in the building compound and today he made no exception. He  sat on his hunches, ignoring my pull and stared at every passer-by. I know he was in pain, otherwise he would be grinning. Uncomfortable but he still was unwilling to drop his routine for some comfort. He sat on his hunches and he looked more proud today that on any other day.

Somehow we managed to climb to the third floor, he could barely walk now. I could barely watch. Inside the house he went back to occupy his new customary corner while I sat facepalmed telling myself that Jimmy would be alright

He will be alright.

Jimmy

Down Memory Lane


Mulund. Devi Dayal road. My father’s home.

We visited an aunt last Saturday. After a long time, we met her and I thoroughly enjoyed it. We got to know that the lane in which my father lived his childhood has changed, the buildings are replaced by residential towers, the road is bigger and slum dwellers at the end of the lane are now up scaled to a building.

Only thing that stayed the same was Hanuman Temple.

My mother’s curiosity gave the necessary nudge and we walked father’s lane,  down memory lane.

I have heard my father’s childhood stories numerous times. Nonetheless they are always hogged down by my ears, my face may actually light up on hearing those stories.

He pointed out small garage type house that his family of 10 or more used to live in, I feel proud to see how far he has come, how humble his origins are, somewhat closer to understand why he aspires greatness from me. That house is now the office of Rotary Club.

Father’s friend used to live in the building opposite, now there’s a new ornate tower standing there, the friend moved away now.

My mind begun coining a line, something inspired from a WWE match I saw. Before I digress and ramble upon my fandom of The Undertaker, I’ll quote the lines:

Fortune fame 
Mirror vain 
Gone insane 
But the memory remains 

Buildings torn down. Shopkeepers changed. Gardens built anew. Pictures faded. Friends moved away. But the memory remains.

As our trip down the memory lane finished, the stories were just getting started. Father told me again about how he and his friends would hang out at the gate the Lalchand Laxmibai hostel, his school Dayanand vedic highschool. His tea ‘adda’ or spot with his friends and later my mom joined him after marriage at paach rasta. (five way junction) He remembers the cost, 4 paise for a cutting tea back then.

He showed us his favorite restaurant in its early days, Kirti Mahal. That restaurant is extremely popular now, with a huge queue waiting for their turn. His pals would visit the restaurant and with hand skills steal spoons and forks for their hostel. My dad looked for a pan wala but that shop was missing.

Alas, no visit to past memories would be complete without loss. He found out that one of his school classmates passed away a year ago.

I had great hopes for finishing this evening with the best dinner possible: Pav Bhaji from the stall that he used to eat from. Yes that stall is still there after 40 years, the food delicious.

After waiting for 30 minutes for the food, I quickly hogged it down, burped on the road without any shame. My dad satisfied by eating there, greeting the busy cook.

The evening was a mix of melancholy and ebullience.

It made me think about why I always loved Mulund more than my home Dombivali(both are city names).

The former has a family connection, it feels homely. It feels part of my heritage, my roots arise there. The exact same feeling arises when I visit my maternal grandparents.

There’s a bond there which runs across a generation. It is like homecoming.

Flowers In Your Memory


Literary Lion: Flower

Dear Jyoti,

Here is the gajra I promised. Its Thursday and you always loved wearing it in your hair every Thursday.

I vowed to keep gajra in front of your photograph, today I keep this letter too.

You see, I have been diagnosed with cancer. We must have a strong love because I too have stomach cancer, terminal and doctors gave me three months to live. The doctor was ready with tissues and sympathetic look, awaiting the tears. But you should have seen his face when I cracked up, I was so relieved I started laughing!

Samir and Girija doesn’t understand my happiness. They want me to undergo chemotherapy and all the other procedures. I don’t want to do that, I saw what those procedures did to you. I saw my beautiful wife become this thin fragile carcass and I know you hated it. I know you wanted an end three years ago but you fought because I was fighting with you.

For that I am sorry, I should have paid heed to you. I blame myself for your horribly painful death. I was selfish. I still am selfish, I want an end too because there’s no joy in this world without you.

Parvati promised me she will take care of Samir, she understands why I am happy. Girija has a new boyfriend did I tell you? Really nice guy. He will keep her company, he will take care of her.

Our varis Shruti is beautiful. One year old and so fragile. She looks just like Samir, she has all of his childhood habits. She spits milk when fed, she keeps using my head as a tabla and occasionally while asleep she giggles. Remember Samir used to do that? We were so scared that we took him to three doctors.

Samir doesn’t find it funny but Parvati does. She made a video of it and its there on something called YouTube. Really popular too.

I digress. Today I kissed Shruti goodbye, made tea for all the members and now they think I am going for my walk. Do you think they will forgive me? I hope they do.

And you my love, I am coming. Because without you I don’t have any heart in life.

Love,
Hari

 

Let’s see what others have written:

https://any1mark66.wordpress.com/2015/08/20/literary-lion-flowers-for-you/

http://rfrmst.com/2015/08/19/calmness-of-beauty/

https://unusualstrangeness.wordpress.com/2015/08/20/wilted/

https://sonyca.wordpress.com/2015/08/20/daisies-literary-lion/

https://thisismyironlung.wordpress.com/2015/08/20/lion-flower/

https://heartscrawler.wordpress.com/2015/08/20/memories-of-a-flowered-crown/

https://mandibelle16.wordpress.com/2015/08/20/literary-lion-the-orchid/

3-in-one: Take these flowers away. And the balloon, too!

https://tuckedintoacorner.wordpress.com/2015/08/21/amarysso/

https://livehomeandaway.wordpress.com/2015/08/21/flower-stories/

Literary Lion – Stained Red

In Convenience

https://write1st.wordpress.com/2015/08/25/flower/

http://reelryan.com/2015/08/25/literary-ryan-red-unearthing/

Literary Lion : Heather

https://cleveroldowl.wordpress.com/2015/08/30/flowering/

https://vnktchari.wordpress.com/2015/08/27/literary-lion-word-prompt-flower-a-wonderful-rose-plant/

https://deliriousantidotes.wordpress.com/2015/08/27/flower/

Captivated


Many people catch my attention but only few of them truly captivate me.

Today I met an extraordinary woman.

She is my aunt’s mother, easily older than 80 years.

I don’t know her name, her last name I learnt from the nameplate.  I am clueless about her education, her marriage, her accomplishments or her regrets: because I didn’t ask them.

In fact I didn’t ask her anything, I just watched her in wide eyed wonder. I observed her energy and cordial personality, a person captivated.

Yes, captivated.

She couldn’t hear anymore but that didn’t impede her loquacious nature, she can lip read everyone: me, my parents, my aunt, even the actors on TV! Her focus oscillated from one person to the next as we spoke, she wanted to be a part of the conversation.

She spoke with everyone, she made me feel as a part of her family even if I had just met her for the very first time. I am part of her family, to her my father is like her son.

I heard her stories and her theories. She doesn’t leave her house anymore because she wants to pass away at her own home, she doesn’t want to taint her sons’ houses with her death.

Back when my father was a child, she used to summon him for small errands, my father never said no. Today when they met she told him she has some work for him, he still didn’t say no.

Her two favorite things are the bank and moving. Yes, I said she doesn’t leave her home so wait.
Her residential area is under remodeling. Old buildings are being replaced with new towers, the previous residents are given apartments in the new tower. She keeps making arrangement for a new temporary apartment even though her building is not scheduled for remaking. In fact, the plan is just under talks and nothing is finalized.

She is meticulous about her accounts, always checking to see if her money’s still there. Nowadays she calls over a nearby kid, pays him 15 rs to go and check her account! The same kid was also summoned to visit her cousin who was hospitalized.

She has a diary, all the people who she knows are in it. Contact numbers, their residences everything. She has maintained it over the years so well that my aunt only uses her diary as a contact list. She took our numbers today.

Like I said her gregarious nature doesn’t permit her to stay aloof, she calls people and speaks to them over loudspeaker of the phone. According to my aunt, her telephonic conversations are a shouting match.

I love her, I don’t have any blood ties with her but I wish there should be one, no matter how distant. Her diabetes has no control over her, she would eat rice and sweets whenever my aunt’s unaware.

Funniest thing is that she is always smiling. She is unique in that, her frankness and motherly nature. If you were there, you would probably touch her legs in awe and respect. Like I said I was captivated.

Before we left her abode, she gave me and my brother ten rupee notes. I never do this but I marked her note and vowed to never spend it. When she made me vow to never spend it later at the door, I wanted to hug her and say I was never going to spend it anyway.

wp-1463814512867.jpg

This is the goal. To be so venerated, to possess such candor, to meet another youngster and make him captivated.

After all, what is life’s goal but to be remembered.