No-school November- A complete No-No

Okay! I never actually thought I’d every let these words escape my mouth, but – I wish they’d stop with the rain holidays.
Granted, there were days, when I hadn’t seen to the end of my homework, or felt that school life was getting parched, and those days, I’d frantically prayed, for spells of rain, enough to convince my school to declare a holiday.

And right until this year, occurrences of these, much-anticipated rain holidays were sporadic.

We’d pray, yearn and crave, for that 1 extra holiday, and the thrill it sparked cannot be compromised for.

Now I’m flipping  these prayers – praying for school.

It is a saying that
the comfort of a shade, is the play of the sun

And I dearly miss school.

I pine for the ridiculous jokes made in class, the pointless chatter in the bus and nicking others pencils and lunch.

I even miss the drawling voices of the teachers as they engage in their futile attempts to penetrate my thick head and reprimand me. (And fill my head with monotonous tufts of knowledge) :p

And it’s absolute drudgery to just sit at home, with nothing to occupy me and help while away the time.  (No, studying has never been an option)

Much as I anticipate reopening of school, every day, I’m pelted with the news of the waterlogged roads.  😦

So roads please acknowledge my pleas and dry up ASAP 🙂

A Necessary End

It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.”
William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

My eyes were shut tight, locked together, as my upper eyelash clung to my lower one. In fact they were shut so tight, I’m sure it was evident that I wasn’t actually asleep. They were desiccated as paper, having shed out their anguish, all through the night.

My mother placed a hand on my neck and tried to shake me awake (and I lay there, desperately hoping, she could shake away the stinging pain, gnawing me to rawness).

Pain demands to be felt
__  John Green, The Fault in Our stars

I feigned to have reveled in a contending slumber, but my hollow sockets were candid.

One peek at my guarded expression told her everything.


She squeezed my hand and switched on a reassuring smile, that usually, made my qualms dissipate into nothingness, but not now. Not today.

“We need to leave” she sighed


I jabbed and prodded at the car seat, with my nails, owing to the lack of things to do. It wasn’t grief anymore now, than anger. All the sorrow, had been swabbed off by those tears, saturated with pain. Now, it was just me, pumped with fury and antagonism, directed to the world, to life, to god.

Every time a memory kicked in, with her, needles pierced my gut.

“You should have stayed back Aadz (that’s what she calls me)” mum said.

“It’s the last time mom, ever” I turned away.


With every step on the staircase, my heart grew heavier and heavier, as marbles, composed of her memories, smiles and tears fell unceremoniously.

1 more step, brought an obstructed view of the glass box. I bit my lip and ran inside.
There lay my cherub angel, composed as always, rejoicing in her paradise.

The dam broke, and the Niagara of sorrow cascaded.


My Escorts

Hey!!! something outta the blue down here 🙂

Beneath an orchard, sequined with fruits of thoughts,

Bequeathed to me by the unseen, the almighty,

The satiny grass rubs against my back,

And as Goosebumps stand,

I let the whirlpool of philosophical thoughts, pull me in,

I envisage

The numerous bumps, life brings,

Adorned and disguised

But plenty formidable, in every sense,

And the snares shrouded by ignorance,

Scathe me, bringing searing pain,

But, just in time, I am, to remember, that,

None, but faith, boundless and infinite

Can escort me.

None, but courage, held constant

None, but my own willing and skilled hands,

Can escort me

From the trenches of suffering

To the havens of bliss,

I realize, that knocked out, by life’s hands

I must rise, and mount the stead of perseverance, that,

Can escort me.

Through the inevitable bends

Of life.

_ F.O.M

note: I’m trying to compare goosebumps with the ups and downs of life 🙂  shallow, i know.. but i couldn’t think of something different for emphasizing on the fact that, no road is straight 🙂

Fandom Obsession

ohh :'(

Fandom’s… Dang!! They get to us, don’t they??

Okay, get this. I’m merely TRYING (caps = extra emphasis) to reciprocate the effects that fandom’s tend to have on us. I will try my best to drill my words to describe these effects accurately

Ah! These fandoms!!

Note: to those who live under a boulder and don’t know the meaning of fandom. I have 2 things for you.

1)  This Post isn’t for you.

2) Fandom – urban dictionary

Line breaks: fan¦dom

Pronunciation: /ˈfandəm/

2.1 [COUNT NOUN] The fans of a particular person, team, fictional series, etc. regarded collectively as a community or subculture.

They may leave, deep, dirty scars behind, {I’m imagining something like the lightening scar on harry’s head (oh! come on even a non potter head can understand that!)} or a feeling very similar to butterflies fluttering deep down our gut. It sparks a fire, of uncouth and relentless interest, which may be temporary (the sparked fire HP lit in me is still glowing, still thermal and luminescent), but its short lived warmth cannot be compromised.

To all those “fandom- obsessed maniacs” like me, this feeling isn’t alien.

Just few pages over the book, and that’s when you make the choice. If you find the story even mildly fuelling your interests and presuppositions then you open the portal and delve deep into fanatic world, enjoy a full and fulfilling dip in the endless seas of imagination before springing out. If it doesn’t catch your appeal, let’s just say the portal lays obscure, closed and unwanted.

The smiles :’)  :

Those delinquent curves, tugging at our mouth when we read something that smears a fascination in us, something delicately entrancing, it is something we can all relate to. We’ve all been through this. Whether it is a beautiful line or quick-witted sarcasm or the black hat getting beat up. The exact explanation of this feeling or its cause is something very close to pride. It is pride that we are reading/ (I don’t discriminate) watching it, assimilating into a part of the fandom.

The tear drops 😥

Oh! Did the author actually, glossing over all my pleadings (in my mind, of course) actually do this? “Pain”… “Sorrow” “happiness”…..  This is when you understand, you are actually into the book. You make the characters your own and feel emotions such as hate, love, pride etc, towards them. For let’s be honest, practically all of us, shed a few, for Augustus Waters and Albus Dumbledore and Leo Valdez (PJ/HOO spoiler alert: he doesn’t die, he ends up in Calypso’s island). You feel hollow, left with intense burning in your throat. The character is either you fictional love, or brother or just the favorite.

The O.T.P (One True Pair

The most bizarre thing about the whole reading experience is when you fall in love with the OTP. These are the characters, you’ve wished, got together from the very beginning of the book. And, even when the slightest tinge of attraction erupts between them, with a trifle hint in the pages, your senses spring up. (Percabeth). Bells ring around you and it puts in a state where you feel you are ready to do almost anything to get them together. Often, invariably, one of them dies. And at this point, you are ready to personally strangle the author. The grief vanquishes over the air of “sweet romance”.

By the time you are done with the book, you are an integral part of the fandom, sharing all its sentiments. It is said that books develop a sense of belonging. It couldn’t be truer. As we decipher the emotional code of the characters, we learn to understand our ourselves, and those enveloping us.

_____ F.O.M

Puppets of Life

We are bound,
our limbs tied
We dance, to the show of life
Helpless at hands strong
That restrain us
We are the puppets of life.

With strings of fate
designing our moves
Weaving in us, desires and dread
Powerless at hands strong
That control us
We are the puppets of life

Landscapes of problems
Drift and change, as we
Are succumbed to grief and joy,
Incapacitated at hands strong
that reign us

We are the puppets of life.
____ F.O.M (fandom obsessed maniac)