Candles Online

Food isn’t just nourishment. Food isn’t three times a daily necessity. Food isn’t just needed to live. Food is a culture. Food is a ritual. Food is a passion. Food is happiness for a sulking child. Food is a comfort for someone unwell. Food is family time for a man who worked hard all day. Food is Mother’s love for a son who brought tiffin from home. Food is hope for the poor. Food is a livelihood for the Farmer, for the Milkman, for the Sabjiwala. 

For me, food is the Kachori made by my Baba. The one he used to make when I was a little girl. I was hardly 11 when he passed away, but I still remember the taste. The whole ritual when he used to make them on weekends taking one whole morning and I used to hang around him, bobbing with anticipation and asking…

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Candles Online

I have written many emotional Articles but today I wanna be a little practical. So I would like to discuss some facts with you. Yes, facts about the girl child. 

The first and very interesting fact is that every foetus is a female at first. In the first five to six weeks every embryo starts off as a female child until the Y chromosome kicks in and the embryo starts growing into a boy. The biggest evidence that supports this theory is the fact that all male have nipples, as they were once a female foetus. 

  • India has the largest population of children (below 18 years), with 400 million.

  • India witnesses more than 27,00,000 child deaths a year, with the figures for female children being much higher than male children

  • 53% of girls in the age group 5 to 9 years are illiterate

  • 75% of married Indian women were underage…

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Come, enter my Darkness
Step in and take a deep breath
Let your eyes adjust to its depths
Try to penetrate its density with your gaze
Feel your way around, dare to step forward
Plunge into it if you intend to find me
Call my name, hear your voice bounce back
Can you hear that echo, is it a tunnel or a cave?
It is cold; it smells damp in here
Don’t touch the walls; the moss covered walls
The stone is chilled under your feet
Water is pooling at your ankles
Don’t be still; Vines will grow on you
Just like they grow on me, Thorny vines
That thing crawling on your back like Spiders
Are my thoughts, that have webbed me in
Snakes slither and coil around your back
Hissing things unspoken into your ear
Don’t be fooled by the incantations they murmur
For poison is their fangs that lick you
Arch your neck up; there are rafters there
Bats hang there; they are venomous
On the crack in the wall, there is a Red Rose
The last life that will wither soon
Do me one last favour, my love
Light that lone match in your matchbox
Set this place on fire, burn it down
My blood is the all it needs to consume
Fuelling it, as it swallows like hungry beast
You can’t take me with you my love
But you can free me from my Prison
Liberate my soul from the pain of my body
Let me be unchained from the links of fate
Torch the walls, the vines, the rafters, the darkness
Let the bats, the spiders, the thorns, turn to ashes
And see me smile once and for last time
As I watch them, all incinerate around me
Before I dissolve into a puff of smoke
At last released, At last at peace
For my soul has wings of feather
And now I fly into the Light…..
That is what Love does
It vanquishes all the darkness
It becomes the saviour
It burns bright and brilliant



Candles Online

Yes, every person has a hidden talent. Hidden talent does not necessarily mean an ability or natural instincts to be the best in the world. Hidden talents could be like: a natural ability to sing melodiously, dance happily or read voraciously. Everyone has some or the other thing that they can cultivate (work on) to develop their quality of life. Yes. Theoretically speaking, humans are a complex species with a storehouse of talents. The skills of a person are shown only on exposure to favourable situations. So, since not everyone gets favourable circumstances to express their talent, there are some abilities that remain “Hidden”. This is true practically too. We have seen reticent people perform well in front of an audience etc.

To make it easier for your talent to find you, you must try doing things that fascinate you. Do those things more often. If you realise that…

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Curse of Daughter of Eve

Here I stand, in your court, from the beginning of time

My only crime, I am a woman

I won’t plead ‘not guilty.’

I am guilty, of every crime I am accused of

Punish me, pass your sentence, take me to the gallows

Hang me by the noose for I am a woman

Let me hang till death you chose for me

For my soul wants freedom, from this body

And that body is yours, yours to bury

It’s yours in death, just as it was yours in life

You nurtured inside it, you were my child

Just mines, yes, I could only vouch for that

You fed on it, oh yes, it was on my breast

I went half naked each time you cried for milk

Again I offered you my lap so you could dream

And poured in you my blood, to realise those dreams

Bury your sins with it, burn your lust with it

For I have taken everything else with me

The taunts, the jibes, the curse, the abuse

I am not worthy of your love oh son of Adam

Because I was the one who was infidel

But it was you who betrayed your person

It was me who was a whore and a harlot

But it was you who came to a wench’s door

It was me who was standing naked for you

But it was you who convinced me to shed my garb

So here, in spirit, I curse you, son of Adam

That there will be no one to love you but me

There will be no one satiate your ardour but me

There will be no one to bear you offspring but me

And there will be no one but me and only me

Who will decide that you hold a true born or a bastard




Candles Online

He was there, on the raised dais. He looked so handsome, that calm, serene look on his face. A soft smile played on his lips. His favourite perfume was scenting the whole area. The suit was made-to-order, it looked so perfect on him. The black Tuxedo. He had ordered it just last month. Had made special demands to keep the coat a bit short, he hated long coats. His wedding ring glinted on his left hand. She had pinned the red rose in his buttonhole, added the golden pin on the tie, kissing his forehead again and again. She still remembered how proudly she had looked down on him the day he had been chosen to be a Pilot for Air Force. She had saluted him.

His face had radiated with happiness and eyes shone with pride. She could never forget that high five he gave his younger sister, hugging…

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Lessons of Love

Today I came to know something invaluable about Love. I will tell you about it, but I know it won’t be useful to you. You can’t imbibe it from my article or by anyone’s teachings. You can only experience on your own. I am a writer, and my pen is asking for my attention, my ink wants me to pen down my experience.

I use to believe that to love meant to hold on, Clasping tight, Stinging, wrenching, agonising. Holding that fear, Holding ambiguity, Holding hurt, Holding passion, Maintaining an image, an illusion, a facade, beauty, perfection, Holding it all together. It needed a whole lot of glue, all that holding. It could break apart and disintegrate at any time, under all that intense pressure. In my journey of finding love, I learned that love requires a whole bunch of letting go…

Love is what’s left after the lover is long gone. Yes……I am right.

Don’t assume that I am telling you that the hurt and pain of losing a lover is love, No. To feel love for a person after he is gone, when with him are gone all expectations, and all possessiveness, gone are all hatred, anger, jealousy, violence, gone is that aching to be with them, gone is that longing to hear their voice and that need to touch and feel them, when the desires and the lusts dissipate, and the illusions, attachment and ego drops, when pretences fall, dependence disappears and all the worldly bondages break free……..then what you are left with is something pure and unadulterated.

When that acceptance of your being dawns on you, that you are complete, and that you are love, love is in you, you are free from all the pain and your soul flies, you get wings, and you are light as a feather. That is when you soar higher and see the world below from the bird’s view. And the bigger picture is seen, and everything falls into place, like a huge jigsaw puzzle finally falling into place. Then look around you, love is flying with you, it isn’s something you can keep caged, it is meant to be free. It needs nothing. Need makes us manipulate, exploit and control. And that is not loving; it is fear. Love will never thrive on fear; it will die a slow and painful death.

Free your love, open those locks. I know it is easier said than done. Free love from the care of future, don’t create that bondage around the feet of love, it is strong enough to break all chains, it is frail enough to break withing those chains. In both cases, you will lose it.

You have the key. The master key. The skeleton key. That river is meant to flow, that water has to pass, it is set to meet the sea. Do you want to retain it? You will make dams, and use the water, mind it you will use the still water, but you loved the river that flowed, you have changed its state by controlling it for your selfish reasons. It is not the living-breathing river you fell in love with, and someday it will break those walls, and there will be a flood that will drown everything with nothing left behind but devastation. Your banks will be the first to take its wrath. So better open those gates now, let it flow, see it winding down and flow by, making your banks lush and fertile.

Someone today told me:

Love is like loose sand. The more you wanna hold onto it, the tighter you close your fist around it, the quicker it slips from between your fingers, without you even knowing that you are holding onto nothing but a myth. And one day when you open the fist, you are left with just some sand that has stuck to your palm, and you dust it off, yet, some won’t go, it will be there, and that… friend is love. That what remains after you have given up on everything and let go, Is Love.

Love does not weaken, if anything, it makes us strong. It’s like the Sword of Gryffindor, imbibing anything that strengthens it. This love isn’t any love; it’s every kind of love. Love for parents, love for a partner, love for kids, love for friends, love for the teacher, love for humankind, love for nature, love for self. Love more. Love often. Love freely. Love many. Love all. Love yourself. Love

Liberate In Love, Rise in Love……..