Whimsical Friends

Remember me when I’m gone, or not; 
It would merely cost you a memory,
A whimsical flash of moment that made us happy.
The thorough randomness of our laughter and blistering palms thanks to our pats, the tears of a worn out breath, and of everything but pain.
A bunch of mindless friends, who found solace in the smiles of the other!
They knew their happiness; it was beyond what the judgmental world could read of!
And they lived, all of it….
Till she left & smiled alone! 




Pehli Baarish ki Pehli Ride!

“Pehli baarish ki pehli Ride.

Pehli baarish ka pehla Slip.

Pehli baarish ka pehla Hug

Pehli baarish ki pehli Chai

Pehli baarish ka pehla Joke

Pehli baarish ka pehla Shor

Pehli baarish ki pehli Jhapki

Pehli baarish ka pehla Mochi

Pehli baarish ki pehli Smile

Pehli baarish ki pehli Conversation

Pehli baarish ki pehli Click

Pehli baarish ki pehli Fight

Pehli baarish ka pehla Aasu

Pehli baarish ka pehla PJ

Pehli baarish ke woh anokhe doston ka Saath 

Pehli baarish main us ek dost ki Kami 

Pehli baarish ki woh pehli Ride!”

It was a Marathi Book Launch. For me.

It’s obvious for a writer (by profession or even otherwise) to be overwhelmed at a copy-writing book launch. Right? 
Although the event was completely in Marathi, I managed to understand every word spoken. Because my Marathi is Masha-allah. 

Ok, not deviating from what I actually intend to say;
That evening I was introduced to a writer, who all this while was just a ‘Founder’ for me!(The Founder of my agency) He began his career in copy-writing at the ripe age of 50.(And we thought career was age-oriented) Nannsence.

I mean, COME ON………being the creator of a brand, based only on your ability to play around with 26 given alphabets of English; that’s some credential.
If you ask me, that’s probably the best earned compliment for a writer, now aged 73!


Mr. Sharad Deshpande surrendered to words. And contrastingly manipulated them too!
What made his journey real, was the attempt of his sons, (Rutuparna and Rugwed Deshpande) to make a book out of it. And P.S. The first copy-writing book ever, in MARATHI. 

It’s really beyond me to express and explain how vividly I understood Marathi that evening.(Which generally is a problem) It’s nothing less than a fairytale experience which came to an end, as soon as my Samsung friend disturbed me!

A life support system called Music.

Each of us has one. A song to reminisce.

1) When you feel sad, and like you’re betrayed and alone (whilst you have a family of 8); you have a song that plays atune!

2) When you are walk around a college campus, or an office hall, pretending to look the prettiest – a ramp walk happens with the best foot-tapping music (try Hotstepper the next time)

3) When you’re attire is a pretty Indian outfit, teamed with the best accessories – You have a song going “Aankhon mein teri, Ajab si”

4) When you seem happy and lively and energetic, the recent song would be, “Suraj ki Bahon mein” – Zindagi na…..

5) When a mountain has crushed your feelings and the love of your life has……… your radio-head plays ” Avril Lavigne – Im With You.

There may be many more. We definitely have a song for every moment that plays our life wheels. We even have a alarm song that wakes the fuck out of us and makes us smile. A morning breakfast song. An evening chai song. The coke studio hours. The best friend – “Jaane kyun dil jaanta hain” song!

And why not, it’s the reason we exist. It’s exactly the reason why our headphones never leave our sides. I love the fact I’m never seen without headphones!

As of now, I’m playing, Coldplay – Paradise, because it’s Rains again my friend. It’s Music.

What’s in the name of a city? A lot more than just history.

P.S.: The thoughts expressed are one person’s opinions and experiences. Offence can definitely be taken but at your own risk. Read with good spirit or shut the tab. Thank You! 


As much as dare-devilish this sounds, shifting base to another city takes guts. Much more than Micheal the Archangel too.
Or may be, I’m just a bit socially handicapped to accept change. Or may be, Mumbai has grown on me.

It’s not really humorous to walk into a city that you have to be acquainted with from scratch? Make friends with genuinely less-evil neighbours and ensure they are open to the idea of sharing at least one bucket of water with you? (during water crisis – which is rampant here!). Survive on 2 buckets of water in 24 hours? Observe, learn and invent tricks to deal with the erratic behaviour of our dear auto-rickshaw wallahs? Be absolutely ok with just 15% of bus frequency? Venture on roads, knowing the irresponsible traffic conduct may attach the “Late Miss/Mr.” to your name? Pay 130 in Indian Rupees to travel 15 minutes? Get conned by autowallahs again post 9 p.m. in the pretext of ‘waha se return bhada nahi milta”?

No. This is not remotely simple. Especially when this is going to be your routine. You need organs of steel or a new found metal to help you deal with it.

Then again, this city has something amazing to offer that Mumbai probably has to be tutored about; People!
Less evil, always smiling, warm, friendly, humane and supportive people! Rapes and robberies are sisters of distant past in this city. Although crime cannot be washed out completely. Less-rude or over-friendly kiranawallah uncles do exist. The autowallahs I previously complained about do not hesitate in letting go of not just 1 but even 3 bucks (Rs). A bunch of 3 or more men will first look at your face and may be then elsewhere! While at a crowded locality, men make way for the women, minus the ass  groping and boob-elbow touch.

So thanks to my new find – ‘The People of my new city’, I think I can make it through, with all of the above listed in para 2.
And to add to my delight, ‘Hubli’ (This being the husband) is in the same town.

I know Mumbai is what I am. But, may be, the other can accommodate too.

Wish me Luck!

That one extra person!

So, after a bunch of mindless posts (my brother says so), i’m attempting to type-down (can’t say pen-down) a very cliche one. Actually, thanks to an incident this morning, I was forced to think and smile about how somebody else’s life is judge-able to you! Although, the truth being, it happens to each of us (I mean almost), say about 60% percent of the living population. Very common, very cliche, very teenage (may be adulthood too). But it persists!

“Falling for more than one person”. Have you? (You just thought of two names, may be) #JustSaying 🙂

So may be you have. Acted like a total vegetable. If it’s happened in college, you have tried to cross their paths at a particular classroom. canteen, foyer, main-gates, libraries, until you have a glimpse of them. Floors you, doesn’t it?

If it’s happened in your colony, your timings to play in the evenings, to move out, to be standing around them and just smile. Your office, your school, your friend-circles, drinking groups etc.

So who do you like the most? Decided yet? One, sets your pulse racing at just one sight. The other makes you smile, like all the time, with just their conversations, as mindless as they can be. How do you decide? I mean come on, not every one can make your heart beat (literally) faster and slower at the same time. And, where do you find that one person, who you just love spending hours, just talking to. Yes, it is a life-altering decision at 20. Life does that to you. Actually, you do that to yourself.

Thinking about them, your life with them. Funny that you think about two people you wish to be with. (Polygamy is not an option here) And you still find the time to judge another somebody for their actions? Hasn’t it crossed your mind that someone else too can be in a situation as you are?

I may have started off with something and ended with a completely different topic. But that’s how we all prefer it. Start off with one and end with a whole new chapter!

It’s ok to not judge. It’s ok to be confused. It’s ok to have a crush. It’s ok to be wrong. It’s ok.

Once a ‘is’ ….now a ‘was’!

Fingers tip-toeing on the keyboard, I’m trying to gather words to begin the saga that my family.

So said Fr. Paul, “Once a man leaves his human body, his spirit needs to be set free. Hate him, for he needs the love of God to embrace him into his paradise.” Now that was some serious bul#*&^. No, I could not hate you.

So I’m still trying to resume life. In poetic and writer language, I’m trying to gather the pieces!
The priest and the husband, made me get rid of your ‘spectacles’. They said, those pair of lenses made you linger around me. Isn’t that great? 

But I don’t feel you around anymore. It feels you’ve taken another form. You don’t make me feel wanted anymore.

Are you upset I tried cutting you out of my human life after all?
Thousand apologies. I had to. They said I had to set you free!

So I get to play the kid you always wanted me to be. A responsible one at that.

Yes, all’s well, and you  know it because I can describe it in words. Its happier to write about you than to remember you. So take your memories with you, in case you’re still around.

I’ll manage.