Blank is new awake.

When you have nothing to write even when continuously thousands of rain drops keep knocking on your window pane, wind blowing confused, cold, humid and sometimes just still. Yet nothing pops in your head. You observe, you feel, you enjoy every moment taking place all around you. No rush to click pictures when you are enjoying what you see, you just want save it in your memory chip and just be a part of the grand orchestra that the weather is playing.     

I don’t know why, but I have this tendency of going blank on D-days or when so much is happening around me. Be it the day I fell in love, I should have shouted it loud to all my friends but no, I went blank. Blank enough to not to let the poor guy know that something is going on in my head with him inside it, huh let me replace poor with lucky. Lucky that he didn’t have to see the moody blue side of mine, poor in that context is my husband.

Well going further..

The day I achieved something, though I don’t remember if I have ever achieved anything; must have gone blank then too, to remember anything 😉

My first night, of course being a girl who believed in fairytales and lived a life full of fantasy’s. I also thought of it like any other girl or boy, but yup, I went blank again. No details please.

I also went blank on the most important moment of my life, when I was about to deliver my daughter. I was almost chanting in my head that the moment I will hear my child’s weeping voice  I would ask the doctors if my child is doing fine and if it is a baby girl or boy, but then again I was just so in my infamous blank mode. I heard my daughters crying sound getting faded away but other than that, everything was so blank then, even doctors were shut.

Why even they didn’t say anything like, “You have a daughter and she is fine.” but nothing just nothing. I wonder if they were people of my clan, the tribe of blank-ies. And the funny part is when they were working with their knives and scalpel on me in the OT, both, my doctor, anaesthetist and the lovely mother to be chose to have a discussion on corruption, great timing isn’t it.

After I was done, sewed upon and left in a room by myself I wondered WHY? Why I am like this? I started sulking in guilt and before I could beat myself to death by all that stupid thinking, I saw the faces of my family members all happy, smiling, talking about my little daughter. That how she is exactly as I have pictured her in my dreams, thoughts and in my talks.

I remember, I was simply happy.

There was no particular emotion but just peace, stillness just like that wind.

Not a single word, I uttered. I looked at my husband he had same smile on his face. He held her in his arms, sat beside me, that was the first time I saw my daughters face, I just kept looking at her, when my husband said, “You can touch her she is your own baby.” I laughed as I was again blank.

But it was a beautifully peaceful moment, I remember.

Infact all those blank moments were the most beautiful moments of my life and I would love to remember them like this only, it’s a feeling of nirvana I guess.

So my friend, at least for me,

Blank is the new awake…


अंतहीन इच्छाएं।

जब मैं रेत में खेला करती थी,

अपनी छोटी छोटी नाज़ुक उँगलियों से रेत का महल बनाया करती थी।

छोटा सा दरवाज़ा, कुछ खिड़कियाँ भी

एक तालाब, और जाने कहाँ को जाता एक रास्ता भी।

फिर एक वक़्त आया, आंखें मूँद के उन किलों के बनने का।
अब उन् सपनों में सफ़ेद घोड़े पे सवार एक राजकुमार भी होता था, मानो जैसे बस मेरे लिए ही जिया करता था।

कब वो कुछ सपने पूरे भी हो गये, और कुछ तेज़ लहरों में बह के समंदर में खो गए।

कब ये दरवाज़े, खिड़कियाँ सपनों से उतर ज़िन्दगी बन गयीं

पता भी न चला।
क्यों अब फिर उस रेत के टीले पे जाने का दिल करता है।

इन् सख्त उँगलियों से गर्म ठंडी रेत को टटोलने का दिल करता है।

जाने अब क्या बनेगा? 

कौन सा किला, कौन सा मुकाम?

जाने अब ये मन कौन से सपने बुनेगा?

Love me, love me not.

When love is in your head but not in your life, or in your life but not in your head. 

Why does love have to be so complicated? Is it underestimated or overrated? Do we really understand love? Is it a sin to talk about love at my age; is there any age for it? 

Love is a beautiful gift, packed in a box with layers of beautiful wrappers, ribbons and glitters, and we open it like a small amused child filled with excitement; amazed with every layer of glittering wrapper, adrenaline rushing through with every torn wrapper, to see what would be inside the box and alas, we feel disappointed to find nothing but an empty ordinary box.

Either we fail to understand love or expect too much out of it, or maybe we over-think about it. The meaning or intensity of love changes with different relationships. Love with parents, children, friends or your pets, I think it stays there in the bottom of your heart, lays low at times but never goes away. 

But the love between two lovers or husband and wife is complicated. Very passionate and equally fragile. You completely put your trust in it, yet doubts lingers around. Sometimes you want to breathe every single breath together and other times you seek space. The conflict of, whether or whether not, or may be – may be not is endless.

Why does a beautiful couple fight even though it kills them inside? Even when they are on same page they fight, these fights make them go through guilt, regret, hell…and what not.

And what about the urge to be with someone better, well this sometimes makes me laugh. What is that better, one seeks?

Sometime I wonder, why this particular relationship is so hot, to be broken by one hit.

 The reason could be that there is a choice to breakup, to leave or to quit. What if this choice is granted on all relationships, just thinking of it gives me chills, it would be chaos, everybody quitting on everyone, be it parents or children, uncle’s, cousins or even pets.

No two people think same, there is no point looking for something better because it could be an endless search. (Of course if it is a hopelessly pathetic situation, one needs to get out) You will meet thousands of people yet you will never be satisfied. 

Don’t rush, enjoy every single moment of unwrapping the gift, I am sure there is more than just glitter on it.

Above said things are just my thoughts, 

I am no expert in this business of love. It’s just that I love LOVE. 

And I am still learning.
“प्यार को प्यार ही रहने दो कोई नाम ना दो” 


Hi, my name is Kavita. I am a content housewife. Why did I start blogging? I have been a storyteller all my life it’s just that I have never put it down and never thought of polishing it. (I …

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a blink of an eye.

Life is a journey itself,

Endless travel from birth to death.

Journey of heart from love to heartbreaks,

How we fall and rise and want to fall again.

Journey of our body from being young toned, vivacious to fragile, old, debilitated.

Journey of knowing and seeing so much yet yearning to see more.

Journey of our changing perspective and vision.

These journeys are our memories for eternity. post: #Journey


This is my take on cowardice WordPress prompt challenge.

They said she was a coward,  couldn’t face life and it’s harsh reality.

All night I kept thinking, was she really a coward?

We all go through emotional,  physical or financial breakdowns. 

We survive because we can’t dump the hope of having a better future, because we love life and its possibilities when this tough phase is over.

It takes a whole lot of strength for a mother to leave her children, in the pity of others. Leaving all her dreams unfulfilled. She was not a coward, she gathered strength to take her last toughest decision.

People around her were the real cowards, people who claimed they loved her were coward.

Coward is to ignore people suffering in front of us and not being empathetic, coward is NOT being patient with people suffering mental illness and feeling alone. 

It is our failure and COWARDICE to not hold their hand and pull them out of the whirlwind of darkness.

Desert, my dessert.

​I am a hopeless romantic. No matter how barren, lonely or dry a desert is I will always find it romantic. 

Well, the reason could be movies,  especially the Bollywood movies and their romantic songs. Or my infatuation with Jaisalmer . Every time I think of desert, I think of Jaisalmer. No, I have never been there but the romantic soul inside me craves to be there.

I always wonder why all the dry  places be it Ladakh, Rajasthan, Gujarat have a very colourful culture and equally colourful attire.

 A night in the desert, I can make love to sand and play with night, all night. Feeling sand with your naked  hands and feet, letting them cover you and when some just stick to you, it is love. When you walk on desert and your feet sinks in every time you put it down and it seems like it holds you tight every time you pull out.

 Desert gives a feeling of longing. Who will understand love more, if not a lonely person. Desert being there for so long all alone, burns out all day and cools off every night.