On not having a Roommate

The web world is flashing across various articles on 10-20-30 things that tell you have the best/worst room-mate. There even is this application or something that tells who suits best as your room-mate. Such wow things! But there is still a section of young people, who ignore every time any such update pops up their screen. They are the loners, roomie-less youngsters. Ever cared for the sad look on their faces as you go about tagging your roomie in the comments,  inviting him/her to read a certain point #4, #5 and so on?

A bit of happiness

It was the evening of my 20^th birthday. A day well spent  amid surprises and laughs, I surely was thrilled to core, another reason why I gladly agreed when my Mother called me up to join her at a temple once I was done with college. Not that I am an atheist, but temples get to see me just occasionally. After contently thanking God for the day and mumbling my usual prayer, and making all sorts of offerings on her instructions, I left with mom. Thanks to the unusually less crowd, I felt good even after a tiring day. Unknown to me, there still was something to add to that feeling. As I waited for mom, holding a big carton on my scooty, containing my gift of the day, a giant Teddy, I watched a young boy of around 10 approaching her. As he held out his hand and started speaking something to her, it became obvious he was a tramp. I quickly reached up to her, asking to rather buy him something to eat than give money. Seemed like that wasn’t even needed. She was already in the process. It’s a mother’s heart, after all. In fact, she added a bit more to her gesture, and asked if he would like a plate of chaat or an ice-cream. Going by my usual experience, I assumed he’ll refuse both and ask for the money. But as I saw the child nod for an ice-cream and eat it with pure glee, something pricked me inside  and I could feel my eyes welling up.  And that moment I knew I had actually lived my birthday. Neither the cake I had savoured, nor that big teddy, but instead this sight was the perfect end to the day.

Valentine's Week;- Chocolate Day

She hurried towards the main door, almost tripping on the objects in the way; her heart was beating wildly with anticipation. She stopped to have one last look at herself in the window pane, her face turning crimson red with a hot blush, adding further allure to her porcelain complexion. Oh, that blush!! He always loved how easily she used to turn coy! With a pulsing heart, she unbolted the door.

'Heart to Heart Bakers', a big box greeted her read...curving her lips into the brightest smile she had had in months but which quickly shaped into a frown as the figure holding the box spoke up:, “Ms. Arima? This is your parcel we were asked to deliver.”

Bookstores:- Are they dying?

 A few clicks, and you are living an easy life! This is the scenario ruling our market today. From an infant’s diapers to a homemaker’s mixer-juicer-grinder, a good part of the urban population is now resorting to online stores for these necessities. And why won’t they? We always prefer to pick an easier way to get our work done. Whether it’s shopping or anything for that matter. Moreover, to people in small towns, online stores provide more and often, better options.

Good Old Days

 Life. It starts with babbling and in no time reaches the age of full grown and mock speeches. A part of growing up, one thing people want to give up after finally having attained it. When exams seem a big load, and job a forced necessity, quite many of us find solace in the snippets of past. 

The past that was our childhood. From all the best memories we ever make, the ones that put a silly smile on our face are of the days we spent in knickers and frocks, and yes, with two ponies (girls, of course). We clearly remember the joy on getting a brand new bicycle, for the thrill of which we would sneak out of home while elders used to drown themselves in an afternoon nap. And as the evening would set in, we’d prepare ourselves for a cycle race with our neighbouring pals. Those races were our definition of a tough competition. And winning wasn’t always important. It was the time we got to cycle around the locality, that concerned us.

Over a cup of Tea

We Indians tend to take our right to Freedom of Speech seriously. Talking, or better say chattering comes naturally to many of us. Well, before someone plans to bash me, let me clear that I mean it all in a good spirit. No offense.

When it comes to striking a good conversation, we’ll always find a couple of people around us, dying to let out stories narrating how their dog is the best in the neighbourhood being a rare specie, or how the daughter of their friend’s friend eloped with a guy , only to return 2 year later with a little kid, cute enough to please her parents’ bad temper. The axiom is that more often you are likely to not get bored for long, if you are travelling alone in a plane, train or a bus. Even in an auto ride back home, by God’s grace you’ll be accompanied by people who have pledged to keep you awake on the way. Heavenly souls. And if not that, you yourself may enjoy conversing with the autowallahs, and may be get an insight into their plight. It’s largely believed that sometimes talking to a stranger does wonders. 

Everyone is beautiful

Human race is materialistic. Profoundly materialistic. More often than not we are reined by physical beauty, of everything and to be precise, of our fellow humans. Happily not caring about the better aspects of one’s personality, we choose to judge a person by his/her looks. And here I am talking about the general human tendency. There are many sensible souls too.