The youngsters were chirping excitedly among themselves. School holidays had started and the excitement was palpable. “So, which days are we meeting? Panchami or Shasthi?
So, this Pujo, let us pay homage to the true spirit of the Devi by facing our fears, overcoming our obstacles, and meriting our minutes to culminate in a future that fosters felicity and encourages emancipation.
I rummage through my wardrobe, a yellow sari and a blue kurta. Uff, I’m done. Just the peacock green left, I sigh victoriously “Sari or
Last year, I participated in a fashion show in October. After that experience, I
refused to be part of any such program this year. As I was twirling on stage the anchor
said, ‘Oh! She looks absolutely normal. You can never guess by looking at her.’
Rains have always attracted me. The beauty of nature appears best during the Monsoons.
Payal looked out of her window and thought where did she go wrong? How come she could never enjoy all the fame and the beautiful life that she rightfully deserved. She was no way less beautiful or deserving than Tina or Sarah.
It did rain at its peak the following week but it did not bother Meghali anymore. Two cups of filter coffee and a rainy walk on the college street marked the onset of a beautiful rapport between the two pure souls.
Still, monsoon arrives every year unfailingly with all her magic, soaking the asphalt-covered streets, the resonance of falling rain on tin sheds reminding one of the mellifluous notes of the Santoor and the urban poet is content in writing his name on the fogging glass facade of the airconditioned coffee shop.
How naive it was of me, when I dreamt of splashing waters and letting myself feel the rain, when someone, probably a few kilometres away, was struggling with an ounce of drinking water or some morsel of grains or a shelter to cover themselves!
