The LinkedIn Proposal

On Friday June 7, 2013 I suddenly decided to pay a visit to my LinkedIn account after almost one and a half year. I'm a really lazy person. So when I got into a comfort zone (read Job), I decided to stick there (so far). Then one day, out of sheer instinct and boredom, I decided to update my profile and accept the 200+ connection requests that had been lying pending. Let me describe what followed via a timeline. So here goes - 

8:28 AM: I boarded my usual Thane starting local onward to CST and started accepting the connection requests. Most were from people from reputed organization – some known, some unknown. But as it was LinkedIn where the purpose is to make professional connection, I never gave a ‘careful’ thought as we give before accepting friend requests on other social networking sites. 

(In a way, it’s a lot like Indiblogger where you hardly know anyone personally, still there is a mutual trust based on professionalism and the common passion for writing.)

8:58 AM: The train reached Dadar and by that time I had finished accepting all the connections.

9:06 AM: Right after passing Byculla, I got this mail from a guy from a reputed IT firm of Pune (Since I have nothing against the Company, I prefer not to reveal its name) –

My eyebrows started rising as I passed from the 2^nd to the 3^rd line, and by the time I had finished reading the small yet insolent proposal, I was fuming. Had it been on Facebook or the once-upon-a-time Orkut, I would have just ignored it. On LinkedIn – I just couldn’t. It had been just 8-10 minutes since I had accepted his connection and there he was proposing to me, quite probably because we shared the same surname.

9:12 AM: I reached CST with a determination to get back at this unwanted and unprofessional Ashiq. How dare he misuse a professional network??!!

My attention span to my regular work at office was highly disrupted that day.  As Facebook-worms we are, the screenshot of the mail was uploaded on FB before midday. Friends reacted - some found this hilariously ‘epic’, whereas others felt outraged.

5:00 PM: I finally replied to him. Again, since it was LinkedIn, I tried to be as much polite to him as possible. This is a screenshot of the FB post -

10:00 PM: I got a reply from this guy saying "Expression can be done anywhere if felt from heart". Ignoring his poor usage of English, I thought of asking him if his heartfelt expressions are automatically generated by just seeing a girl's profile pic; or by knowing that the girl has the same surname. If that be the case, you can easily assume how many Bengali/Nandi girls he would have tried his luck on, before me. Man! He is an insult to my Nandi clan and I feel so damn ashamed of him.

But this time I decided to ignore the message as I wasn't interested in a conversation with him; or rather I was afraid I will lose my sarcastic demeanor and start abusing him. So I removed him from my connection and decided to forget the issue.

Sunday, June 9, 2013, Post Midnight: The comments were flooding by now and some friends even shared the post, determined to find this guy.

2:00 AM: I was contacted by a friend of mine saying he found this guy on FB. Bingo!  My friend had messaged this guy on FB asking if he had proposed someone on LinkedIn (Ouch! Wrong Move). And he told him - If that was him, he wouldn't be surprised if the rejection to his proposal lands up on his wall within few days. Now, I don't know if there was anything more in their conversation, but shortly afterwards, Mr. Now-Infamous-Nandi deleted/deactivated his FB profile. Quite simultaneously he sent me another mail on LinkedIn saying "It was mistake to add u in my friend list. Try to give value to person".

1. First and foremost it reminded me of a good old saying - "Ulta Chor Kotwal ko daatein"...Who does not have the basic values - was it me or him?
2. No one gets such 'Free ka Publicity' for such an Ill-English-Proposal. Show some gratitude Dude! :P
3. LinkedIn - as I have been repeating throughout - is a professional network. It does not have 'friend list'. If anyone thinks they are making 'friends' by adding LinkedIn connections, they are hugely mistaken. And even if you consider them 'friends', do maintain the professionalism.
4. Well, sometimes we got to tell such coward guys - "Wrong Girl this time..."

P.S. No, I haven't abused him back yet. 

The Real Beauty - A Beautiful Life...

Two days back, I was just back from a road trip across Meghalaya when I saw the mail from IndiBlogger asking 'What does real beauty mean to you?' - The Yahoo Dove Real Beauty Contest. After such a trip what instantly came to my mind is the pristine beauty of the nature that has kept me in a dazed and enchanted state even 48 hours after it was over.

But on second thoughts, I think beauty can be found in many things. Beauty can be a red rose on the snow or a baby's giggly laughter or the bond of love between a dog and its master or in the tears of a woman bidding her lover goodbye or some dried flowers on a dear one's grave or praying to a god whose existence has no certain proof or.... If I go on, I can enlist many such beauties, but I'm going to write about what my heart thinks are the real beauties in this world.

When a mother sees her baby for the first time, after waiting for months, she wants to hold her baby. She does so with her trembling hands, scared that she might hurt the baby if she is not careful. She looks at her baby and smiles, while a single drop of happy tear runs down her cheek - That is real beauty to me...

Not only the mother teaches the child about life, but also the child teaches the woman to be a 'mother'. When the toddler takes the first step or says 'maa' or 'paa' for the first time, the happiness and excitement on the parents' faces - That is real beauty to me...

The mother, in her soothing voice, tells the child bedtime stories that mostly start with 'Once upon a time' and always have happy endings or comforts the child when he or she is scared at the middle of the night from the imaginary bogeyman or the monster in the closet - That is real beauty to me...

The child grows up, passing through adolescence and experiencing hundreds of new emotions and changes. The surprise of puberty, the change of feelings for a childhood friend, the first love, the first romance or the first kiss to the person we love - That is real beauty to me...

Slowly, we enter adulthood and choose our field of study and then one day, our profession too. Whenever we achieve something, small or big, or the day we get our first salary, we can see the pride clearly visible on our parents' faces - That is real beauty to me...

Some years later, finally the day comes when we have to sacrifice everything we love to start a new life with a person who is supposedly going to be our life-partner. The bride walking down the aisle holding her father's hand, who had once taught her how to walk - That is real beauty to me...

The vows a couple takes on the alter while promising to love, comfort and honor each other as long as they both will live; or a Hindu bride taking the Saat Phere with trembling feet, apprehensive of the new life that awaits her; or the shyness of the Muslim bride as her lips tremble while she utters 'Qubul hai' - That is real beauty to me...

The happiness of an expectant mother, the glow on her face, the way she takes care of herself like she has done never before and when one day, she suddenly exclaims to her husband - "Oh! The baby just kicked!!' and the husband tries to hear his baby's heartbeats putting his ears on his wife's belly - That is real beauty to me...

Back to the beginning, when after nine gruelling months, the mother gets to see, hold, kiss and feed her new born and we can see the maternal love in her eyes as she caresses the baby... That again, is a real beauty to me...

In the end, one day her beloved leaves her. Broken-hearted, she mourns at his grave. The sadness and tears, partially seen through her black veil as she lights a candle and puts flowers on the grave, is too painfully beautiful to me... 

Real Beauty is our own Cycle of Life. I am a real beauty and so are you! We are the most beautiful creation of God and with a beautiful heart, we can turn our lives into a real beauty till it lasts.
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The Burning Woman

(Image Courtesy : Google)

Once upon a time, on a dark night,
I found myself standing all alone,
Scared, as always from the darkness,
That beckons towards the unknown....

My only companion - The open sky,
Jet black, with no clouds in sight,
I can hear voices inside my head,
Voices that whimper, cry and fight.

Familiar looks the deserted street,
As if I have been here before,
And then suddenly, to add to my woes,
It thunders and rain starts to pour.

In the distance, I see a lone house,
Lights glowing through its window,
Alone in the dark, I move towards it,
Alas, deserted even by my shadow...

Closer I get, flickery seems the light,
Blazing, as if something inside was burning,
I felt fright, an urge to turn back, yet,
To see what's inside, my heart was yearning...

I cross the picket fence, I cross the lawns,

I reach the rusty door, which was open...
With trembling hands I push the door,
Along comes the smell of char, and then...

The sight that meets my terrified eyes,
I would never forget in my life throughout,
I see a burning woman in the flames,
Burning! Burning with her arms spread out...

Petrified, I realize I'm looking into a mirror,
The burning woman is none but me,
I feel a fear that I have never felt before,
For it is hard to believe what I see...

I see my soul burning, but I can't help,
Finally realizing it is hell where I stand,
I touch the mirror, trying to reach out,
As she does the same with her hand...

Her tormented eyes meet mine,
And in her last moment, we both scream,
It's at this moment that I wake up,
Realizing that it was just a scary dream!

*******************************************

Outside, a gust of wind joins the torrential rain,

Howling and wailing, as if in terrible pain,

In the darkest corner of my heart, I know that

I'll be seeing the woman tomorrow night again...

- Sanghita, 12/05/2011 

Meri Chahat (My first attempt at poetry)

चाहने को तो बहुत कुछ चाहती हूँ...

आसमान में उढ़ना चाहती हूँ,

फिर से खुलके हँसना चाहती हूँ,

बचपन वापिस जीना चाहती हूँ,

चाहने को तो बहुत कुछ चाहती हूँ...

चैन की नींद सोना चाहती हूँ,

बेफिक्र अंगराई लेना चाहती हूँ,

एक नयी शुरुआत करना चाहती हूँ,

चाहने को तो बहुत कुछ चाहती हूँ...

जब दिल किया गाना चाहती हूँ,

जब मन चाहा नाचना चाहती हूँ,

जैसी हूँ वैसी ही रहना चाहती हूँ,

चाहने को तो बहुत कुछ चाहती हूँ...

हर दर्द भूलाना चाहती हूँ,

हर दोस्ती निभाना चाहती हूँ,

मैं फिर से प्यार करना चाहती हूँ,

चाहने को तो बहुत कुछ चाहती हूँ...

बारिश में भीगना चाहती हूँ,

हर बूँद महसूस करना चाहती हूँ, 

मैं बादलों को छूना चाहती हूँ,

चाहने को तो बहुत कुछ चाहती हूँ...

आसमान में उढ़ना चाहती हूँ,

ज़िन्दगी वापिस जीना चाहती हूँ,

हजारों ख्वाहिशें पूरी करना चाहती हूँ,

चाहने को तो बहोत कुछ चाहती हूँ...

Life @ LIBA... Lanes of memories

Few days back I had to fill up a section of the Yearbook - "What will I miss about LIBA?" Such a simple question, but it took me few hours to decide what to write there. But even after that, something kept bothering me because I felt that was not all. I had not done justice to that question.

So now as I close my eyes and think, scene by scene the Life @ LIBA flashes before my eyes. So let me take you on a journey through my memories once again...

Scene 1: Its 7.50am... As usual I'm running late for the morning class... Keeping my fingers crossed I run down the stairs to the streets, wishing I'll get an auto and reach the college in time... Like everyday, I blame myself - "Kabhi nahi sudhregi!!!" After waiting for few minutes an auto passes by... I stop it and ask - "Anna, Loyola college back gate, ulle pona, ewlo??"... The guy quotes Rs. 30... I say - "Anna, daily poro... Rs. 20 correct rate anna..." After a little persuasion he agrees... Phew!!! I reach college starp at 8am and run to the class. I'll miss this!!!

Scene 2: I am inside the class. The faculty is scribbling something on the board, oblivious of what's happening behind him. I start dozing off, head flopping over to one side. He turns around and the whole class suddenly becomes very attentive. Someone elbows me and I wake up startled, pretending I have not even blinked. Well what we assume as micro-sleeps lasting only seconds, are actually around 15 minutes long each. And by that time, everyone in the class has seen you, has had a good laugh and some have even taken some photos of you. I'll miss this!!!

Scene 3: I'm in the canteen. On a table where only four can sit, atleast four more have squeezed in. It's like an adda. We are all here for 2 'F's - Food & Friends. I am gorging on some junk food from Give Life cafe and of course, a bottle of Pepsi. I can hear giggles and laughters all around, people pulling each other's legs, all kinds of masti-mazaaks, gossip sessions, people desperately trying to pass their food coupons and shout their orders to the guy behind the counter... "Anna, masala dosa", "Coffee Anna, less sugar", etc. Someone once told me that a college is incomplete without a canteen, like Tom is incomplete without Jerry. So true... It's where friendship emerges. I'll miss this!!!

Scene 4: It's someone's birthday...(Let's assume it's a guy... that way it's more fun)! He is gonna cut the cake in the canteen... Half the class turns up for the celebration... Most of the people are more interested in the cake than in his birthday and half of them are more interested in giving the guy some birthday bumps, than in either the cake or his birthday... As soon as the cake is cut, the torture starts... All you can hear are Ooh, Aah and Ouchs and many more @#$%^&*s (censored swearing). I'll miss this!!! }:>

Scene 5: Festival Time!!! Whether it's the Festival of Lights or Mahabali's homecoming or any other festival, LIBA celebrates all with equal grandeur. Everyone turns up dressed in their best attires on the day, some for fun, some for friends and some for the good food (called the Theory of 3 Fs). In LIBA, dates really doesn't matter. We may end up celebrating Janmashtami during Onam and Onam during Navratri, but its the spirit of celebration that matters. I'll miss this!!!

Scene 6: It's a conference day... 3 buses are waiting in the parking lot to take the students to the venue... Everyone turns up earlier than usual, suited up... The consolation prize of attending these 'Attendance compulsory' conferences are that - you get to have yummy food and yummier dessert. I'll miss this!!! :-P

Scene 7: It's either Freshers Party (when people are dressed as weirdly as possible) or Libarated (when we tune our vocal chords, walk the ramp and burn the floor) or Chrysalis (when we are at our intellectual best) and as usual, there is a flurry of activity all around. You can feel the energy and enthusiasm in the air. And then comes the DJ night with people dancing on the beats of "Munni Badnaam"s and "Sheila ki Jawani"s. In the end, they were all good good nights. I'll miss all these!!!

On a more personal note, I'll miss walking out of college with Pritha, I'll miss pulling Munna's coogly woogly cheeks :P, I'll miss going to Nescafe with Chaitik and Navisha, I'll miss the trips I have taken with some good friends, I'll miss reading Chaitik's hilarious posts on Pandora's box and if I keep writing, I'll miss even the CRM exam that I have tomorrow...

I have been through myriads of emotions in the last 20 months... I have met so many people, some of whom I'll remember throughout my life... I have learnt so many valuable lessons, some through the people and some through the vibrant life we spent here. I can proudly say no matter what, those were the best days of my life and I believe this lively culture will keep throbbing in the heart of LIBA even after many many years.

Steven Johnson Syndrome - A Survivor's Story

Have you ever looked death into the eyes? Ever felt the life slip out of your hands? Ever heard your loved ones weeping all around you as if it was your funeral? I have been through all this 13 years back. If you are reading this post, I would first insist you to go to Google images and search 'Toxic Epidermal Necrolysis' and Steven Johnson Syndrome', see how it looks like and then read further. Also, it's a long story, so please bear with me...

(Disclaimer: This article is about my ordeal with TEN/SJS. It may lack medical technicalities.)

It was the summer of 1998, and I was just back from  my first visit to Chennai after undergoing a nerve-related treatment at the Apollo Hospitals. The doctor who was treating me prescribed me a medicine, known as Tegretol (manufactured by Novartis). We returned to Silchar (Assam) on March 28th. I lazed around for 3 days, as the classes were about to start from the 1st of April. On the night of 30th March, the first symptoms showed up. It looked like measles to me, and I complained to my parents that I was getting weird eruptions on the skin and that it itches. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that I was so close to the end of my existence. My Dad consulted with our family physician (Dr. Ajit Bhattacharjee), who is a Dermatologist and upon his suggestion that it might be a drug reaction, he called up the doctor at Apollo to consult with him. Instead of asking me to stop the medication, he denied that the reaction had anything to do with Tegretol and asked me to continue taking the medicine.

31st March morning, I started to lose some sensations as if I was going numb. By afternoon the eruptions looked like those of chicken pox. I got ulcers in the mouth and also, started dripping saliva from the mouth (like you do after being on anaesthesia on a dentist's chair), which was pretty numb by then. When my dad came home from office and saw my condition he decided to take me to another doctor - Dr. Manabendra Deb, who had treated a similar case before. The doctor checked me and asked him to get me admitted in the hospital immediately. My first reaction was - why the hell am I being admitted to a hospital with such utmost urgency because of skin rashes?!

It was then when the Doctor explained to me that I have symptoms of TEN (Toxic Epidermal Necrolysis), a severe form of SJS (Steven Johnson Syndrome), which is a life-threatening condition affecting the skin and subsequently the eyes, blood vessels and multiple organs. If not death, outcomes such as organ damage and/or blindness is common in this case. I was immediately put on saline and protein drip. Blood and all other possible samples were taken. And then came the life saving steroids.

1st April :  I know how lame this sounds but initially I very excited as family and friends were dropping in to see me.I was just a child and the worst was yet to come.

It was only towards the end of the day when someone switched on the lights and I shrieked, that everyone realized - I have developed photophobia. My windows were then covered with green curtains and only one dim light was allowed to be lit in the room. My condition started to worsen during the night, with more life saving drug being pushed in through the saline syringe at regular intervals. For some strange reason, I was not letting anyone come near me, except for one particular nurse and my father; not even my Mom.

2nd April 1998: It is the worst day of my life till date. Around 2am while everyone was sound asleep, I suddenly sprang up on the bed from a sleeping to a sitting position instinctively and  started vomiting blood. There was blood everywhere, on my hands (as I cupped them in front of my mouth to stop it), then on the bedsheets and on the floor. It was like I was living in a nightmare! Till date, I remember that moment vividly as if it was just yesterday. The resident doctor was called immediately. It was at that moment when the doctor announced, there was only 0.1% chance that they could save me.

From the next day onwards, I was prohibited from looking into any mirror. With blood red eyes and lesions on the skin, I would have easily got a role in the 'then very famous' Zee Horror Show. In fact, I even overheard a family friend of mine comment that I looked like one of those ghosts.

I was in the hospital for two entire weeks and it was only one particular day when a drop of tear rolled out of my eyes when my uncle and aunt  came to pay me a visit before shifting to Delhi. We were a joint family until then and he had just got his transfer orders during those days. At that moment I felt I was hearing their voice for the last time. Even seeing them was out of question as I had bandages over my eyes. I could only hear their sobs and then I cried - for the first and the last time during those days.

Over the next few days, people kept pouring over. I heard them weep, as if all hopes were lost. My then best friend Puja couldn't even enter the hospital chamber. Someone told me she was standing at the entrance of the room and crying. Even the Principal of my school paid me a visit one of those days. I learnt something about human nature in those days - people give up on hope way too fast and I don't blame them - I looked  like the definition of lost cause!

Over time, my lips got sealed and I couldn't even speak. If I needed something, I used my fingers to spell it on someone's hands. I had syringe punctures all over me. An otherwise tolerant patient through all these, I protested vehemently only once - through gestures - when the doctors were instructing the nurse to push the drip syringe through my legs, as both my hands had swollen up. Thankfully they respected that one wish, and continued using my hands interchangeably.

I was being treated by Dr. Prabhati Dhar Purkayastha (ENT), Dr. Sandeep Dhar (Ophthalmology) and Dr. Bhaskar Gupta (Dermatologist), along with Dr. Manabendra Deb. I also remember that two doctors from Apollo Hospitals (Chennai) had come down to Silchar to pay me a 'visit', probably in an attempt to do some damage (read reputation) control.

I don't remember few days in between as I passed in and out of consciousness.

After 7-10 days my conditions started to improve a bit. Slowly I got rid off the photophobic condition. I felt I was gifted with new eyes. Everything was so colorful all around. The world (or rather the hospital room) was beautiful!

Then slowly I was able to speak again. I blabbered so much like I was speaking after decades. 

One fine day (after almost 10 days of being admitted), the nurse asked me to step down from my bed and take a walk. I was super excited, but as soon as I tried to take the first step, I stumbled. My legs had gone totally numb. The nurse caught me and slowly taught me to walk - again. With each step, the numbness disappeared.

I felt like I was in heaven back on earth. I even shed nails and new nails grew in their place.

I was discharged on 15th April. I was going home finally! My nurse came along with me and stayed with us for almost another month.

The first thing I did after stepping inside my home was to run to the nearest mirror. I still looked pale and horrible, and could only imagine how I would have looked during the first one week. I was prohibited from much exposure to sunlight for almost  an entire year.

My parents celebrated my birthday with much grandeur that year, as if it was the first birthday of a new born.  They told me it was my second life.


Till today I regard all my doctors as Gods - the ones you can see with your eyes. I owe my life to them, after all. Like some miracle, few minor health problems I had till then got cured after that, as if it was actually a new life, a blessing in disguise.

I did learn a few lessons from that incident-

1. First and foremost, one should never lose hope. The reason I never feel disheartened whatever the situation is  because I feel there is always some hope left.
2. Face every situation bravely and fight till the end. Death is peaceful and inevitable for all that is born, but life is way too beautiful to let go without a swashbuckling fight :)
3. There is a Supreme Being/Energy in this world, that creates miracles. I don't believe in traditional forms of "God" per se. This formless thing I am talking about is present all around us and at the same time, quite ironically, can come to us in different forms. For me, it came to me as my Doctors and saved my life. To some extent, I could feel it in my parents too, who never gave up and fought alongside.
4. Last but not the least, there is an information leaflet provided with every medicine. ALWAYS read it CAREFULLY, before taking the medicine, especially the side-effects section.

For more information on Steven Johnson Syndrome, refer here (Wikipedia).

In Search of Sophie : A Trip I wish I could forget

I have always loved to write. I get my inspirations from all that is in and around me. This is a short story I wrote almost a year back for the creative writing competition at IIT Saarang 2010. I dedicate this story to my parents and thank all those people who inspired the characters in my story. Also, thanks to Venkat who inspired me to finally publish the writing.

Do leave your comments. I am looking forward to some honest criticism.

Just one request: Read it alone... With the lights turned out... 

Title : In Search of Sophie : A Trip I wish I could forget

Genre: Horror, Thriller.

In Search of Sophie

(Picture Courtesy : Google images)

Makar Sankranti... A time of the year when I miss being at home the (2nd) most

There has always been two occasions during a year, when I miss being at home the most... First being Durga Puja and second during Makar Sankranti or 'Magh Bihu' in Assam...

Bihu is the most celebrated festival of Assam. It is celebrated during different periods of the year as it marks the three stages of cultivation, i.e. beginning of the agricultural season, completion of transplantation and end of the harvesting season.

There are three forms of Bihu that are celebrated in Assam:

1. Bohag Bihu, celebrated in the middle of April which marks the New Year at the advent of seeding time;
2. Kati Bihu, celebrated in the middle of October which marks the completion of sowing and transplanting of paddies;
3. Magh Bihu, celebrated in the middle of January which marks the end of the harvesting period.

Out of the three bihus, Magh Bihu, which is celebrated during Makar Sankranti, has always been my favorite. Magh Bihu is also known as Bhogali Bihu, which originates from the word 'Bhog' and signifies eating and enjoyment.

The festival is marked by feasts and bonfires. On the eve of the Bihu, called 'Uruka', young people build makeshift huts, known as Meiji or more popularly known as Merameri in Cachar, from bamboo, leaves and thatch, in which they eat the food prepared for the feast (purely non-vegetarian). The entire night is spent in and around the Meiji with people singing or playing Bihu songs (Bollywood songs in more recent times), beating 'Dhol', or playing games.

The next day, on Magh Bihu, people get up very early in the morning, take bath and burn the 'Meiji'. People gather around the burning 'Meiji' and throw 'Pithas' (rice cakes) and betel nuts into the fire, as offering to the God of Fire. They offer their prayers and thus, mark the end of the harvesting year. The whole day is followed with community celebrations all across with Pithas being distributed to all. Some Pithas commonly made are Puli Pitha, Chandro Puli, Doodh Puli, Paati Shapta, Malpoa, etc.

The last time I celebrated this festival was almost a decade ago. I miss the picnic like feast with family and friends, the roof top parties at my home during those times, the bonfires, the 'getting up at 5am on a wintry morning' (the worst part), the comforting heat from the burning Meiji and mostly, the Mom-made Pithas that I get to have once the ritual is over... I miss them all, so much that I would rather opt for a Makar Sankranti holiday, instead of Christmas and New Year break...

Happy Bihu / Makar Sankranti / Lohri / Pongal to all... :)

(Picture Courtesy : Google images)

(Facts Courtesy : Wikipedia, www.festivalsofindia.in)

Some Introspections on this day of Independence

To start with, I got up at 10 a.m. today. Sounds wierd?? May be it would 'coz it was not "Just another Sunday"... Was supposed to attend the Independence Day celebrations at college at 7 a.m., which I didn't...

I didn't understand the significance of Independence Day till I started going to school. I remember there was a time when I used to get up early in the morning and rush to school, just to see the Flag being hoisted by Princi (short for our Principal Sirji)... The Scouts & the NCC Saluting it... Singing of the National Anthem... and some more patriotic songs, like Vande Mataram... Listening to a variety of patriotic speeches in either English or Hindi (or rather waiting for it to get over)... The drills and the march-past... The cultural activities where one can see a sudden burst of Saffron, White and Green, the Indian Tri-color... The distribution of sweets and snacks... Then rushing back home and catching on the last few minutes of the National celebration on DD1, though it was nothing compared to what we got to see on Republic Day...

Even if it was for those "Mithai ka Dabbas", the point is that we attended the celebrations... Once college started, it was up to us whether to attend or not, and the choice was pretty clear! This brings up few questions in my mind...

Does that mean Independence Day doesn't mean anything to us anymore just 'coz times have changed?

Has Independence Day degenerated into just another holiday?

Do we really understand the relevance of Independence Day today?

Is it just because we have not experienced life pre-independence, that we can't really understand the true value of it?

Or has there been a reduction in our cultural and ethical values?

I thought of writing this post 'coz someone said to me - "Pity that it's a Sunday and we did not even get a day off!!"

I would rather say pity that the 'holiday' part of this Day is what seems to be most important to most of us...

(Picture Courtesy : Google images)

Once upon a Time...

"Once upon a time..." is the popular line that every Fairytale story starts with... And I would have loved to start my story with that line too... But this is no Fairytale and I am no Princess...

My story ended even before it could begin.

The only sign is the bleeding heart, crushed to pieces.

May be someday there will be a story to tell...

A story of a lifetime, that would make the world fall in love once again...

A story that will begin with "Once upon a time..." and will end with

"... and they lived happily ever after...."