Hi one and all. As few days back I started a new post where I shared with you all that I will be introducing budding artists, here I mean art in its extended form.

Now, continuing that series, I present you one more little artist but this time he is a lover of caricature art form. He is none other than my 11 year old son. I am posting here one of his drawing and hope you all will encourage him as well.

Organising My Writing.

Hi all.

After going through lot of havoc and mental tension I finally sorted out my writing plan.

Organising my work.

I actually, for the first time wrote downmy writing schedule and believe me it is so easy to chalk out everything after following the plan.

Infact, I found two topics to write down in my non-fiction category. I am overjoyed with this development. It is giving me time for so many other things. I am well organized for the first time and guess what? I am loving this change. I am getting time to read, I am getting time to work upon my two projects. One is done with first stage, the other is going on through the brain storming.

I have planned out my writing schedule for next full week. After completing this week I will start with another and before that week is over I will chalk out the plan for coming next two weeks.

For planning I have started a new planner in the brand new diary. For the other writing exercises and pointing the stories or blogs I am using another diary, i have cute spirals and another simple note book as writer’s note book. I tried to understand the concept of journal but found it too confusing so never started one but some activities are carried on in these already existing notebooks.

Fair out first draft.

Recently I completed my book’s fair copy, I mean wrote down the scattered ideas into one place and now gathering up my strength to punch the keys for drafting it. For now, I am not thinking far from this point, in the development of the book. I will take one step at a time.

As I am organized and settled now, I have too many ideas boiling up in my mind to be shared. Each wants it’s own share of space. There are stories behind every topic and every word I have stored up. My changing writing place wants to tell you it’s own story. My planning of vlogs and podcasts about writing want to be familiar with you all.

New platforms to share.

I have reorganized my Pinterest business account also and there I am getting so much of input. Quora is too a good option as a help in writing, this I have understood in last few weeks. But I am still struggling to settle down in Stumbleupon (mix) and Bloglovin. I hope, will be able to use them to my benefit soon.

In the End…

There is more to share with you all about my progress but not in this post. It already has become too big.

A Bitch named Sucharitasen.

Hi friends and fellow bloggers. I don’t know whether this post of mine is going to reach the aimed person or not but still I am determined to write it down. I am sorry if my language or grammar is not upto the mark or even the performance of the post is not right, then please excuse me. Because the expired person does require atleast minimum respect out of courtesy stake,if not for real. But there are some people who have forgotten their manners.

How down can a person and specially a lady fall from her character? I don’t understand what motive she had behind abusing a deceased person’s family and that too, his sisters. Apart from her physical and financial needs be fulfilled by her boss. I mean so called boss, actually I should be calling him her master and her, a KEEP. This lady is abusing two ladies purely on the instructions of her so called movie director producer and writer, a bastard himself, who doesn’t know his own origins, accurately.

This bastard has no sense and is deprived of rightful mind. He wished to marry his own daughter. This guy belongs to a mixed community and the movies he makes I mean the types of movies he makes, are really shame on the pious institution of marriage. He, himself married two times and ruined an actress’ life. Now this guy has eyes for another girl who is the age of his third child, say about 25 to 28 and this girl also is a money digger, who along with this bastard and his team, murdered a brilliant star, no I would say, an actor, a brilliant actor.

Now this bitch, Sucharita is covering up new lust of her master, by giving false statements and to divert (what she thinks, she is doing by her actions) the public, she is abusing the actor’s sisters.

May be some people who recognize about whom I am writing, they might think I am a fan of deceased actor, so, I want to clarify, that I am not at all a fan of that pure soul, in fact I am not a fan of any of the lot. Just being a human I am moved by the degraded actions of the bastard team. She is even abusing some YouTube era who are fighting for justice for the actor. This I can see, is a very old and long story. It may have started say about 40 years ago or may be some other points are also there, some drug paddling, mafia and such other communal points which may be unfolded once the case is solved.

What I think is, nepotism in this case is just a small stone. This industry is just a @#$place. It should be boycotted and this bitch’s books too be boycotted.

I am stopping here because this will become long if I keep on writing. And I may bore you. I want to use a photograph of that bitch and bastard here but …

Well I am sorry for this. But until i had not written it down my mind would not be at peace.

If you read the complete post, I am thankful for bearing with me. Please pray with me for the justice for the actor.

Visual memories Photos.

Memories..a single word holds so many emotions.

The single eruption, even for a second, and you are transported back to that time…either of love or of hate and anger. Even of sheer pleasure from your childhood.
But did you ever thought that memories do fade, just like the photographs. No, I am not talking about just the accuracy but the qualitative aspect also. You can compare it to fading of a photo. Say, the vibrancy of it changes just as that of photo and all this takes place over a time period.
Yes, with passing of time the color of our visual memory do changes. Mostly it fades. As if time has changed the values of its color and hues etc. just like we do in photo editing. This is proved by a team from Boston College including Assistant Professor Maureen Ritchey and two other co authors of this study.

This proves that memory as well as memory strength wears away with mere passing of time.

Some may ask why don’t the memories stay long enough. But unfortunately, nothing lasts forever. And so does the memories too come with a short span of life and are destined to fade away with time. At a point, the part of our brain we use in recording them, shuts down completely.

Accuracy is affected but along with it the qualitative shift also takes place. Explains Rose Cooper, co author of the study.

Each time we revisit them, they become flexible again. They reset. The memory can change a little each time we recall it, and it resets stronger and more vividly with every recall. States Medical News Today.

As we age, the neurons which encode our memories are less in numbers, when any or a small number of them fail, our memory is termed to be lost. The results suggest that increasing the number of these neurons, encoding our memory, enable it to stay for longer. Stated on Aug. 23, 2019.

Introducing budding artists.

Hi.. everyone.🙋‍♀️

This post I am creating to introduce some budding artists whom I know and yes ofcourse both my children. Hope you all will support and appreciate their work also.

Every week I will be introducing one child and their work. Hope you all find it likeable and encourage them.

So, here comes the first child. She is my distant niece and is 12 years old. Her name is Vini and she is sharing a beautiful poem with us.

Vini, my beautiful niece

She awaits your guidence.

5 seconds count!

Only five seconds to ten! She started to run to reach the bus stand. She could see the bus coming and still five hundred meters to go. It was her first day to her dream job and she had planned so much around it. What if she misses the bus? No, she cannot afford it because she was already warned that the job was given to her, bypassing seven other suitable candidates. If she wants to carve niche for her in this field, she has to crush others and reach the top of ladder but if she loses, the company was not ready to pay for her mistakes and will throw her out of the job the next moment.

Now, breathing was heavy. Chest felt bit tight and congested. Still, she tried little hard to run faster. The home loan documents of her new home, her new car and mother’s health, all swung before her eyes.

She stretched her hand to signal the bus to wait and saw the seconds hand to tick ten. She took one more decisive step when her vision went black and her hand swung in air. She took a deep breath almost a sigh and with a thudding sound fell down. People on the road and stand gathered around. Her head banged on road and eyes closed.

Something that scares me sometimes.

Paranormal – one of my favoriteacan’t say completely that I believe in it nor I can say that I don’t believe but it amuses me. I mean the topic.

Well leaving behind all the debate of I believe or I don’t, let me tell you a story. A story which occured years ago in my ancestral home.

It goes like this, one of the men working at our mansion, had always trouble sleeping in his quarter. As I mentioned it was ancestral so was centuries old. And being so, it had it’s own share of spooky stories. But,now don’t let me embrangle you from the main story. Well,I think I should not call it a story but true incident. So, this guy, who worked for my grandfather was given a quarter in the outer portion of the mansion. There were others also in his neighbouring quarters but they never said a thing about some sort of disturbances.

This guy alone had a problem, so we all thought either he is imagining things or hallucinating under the influence of cheap alcohol. But every morning he used to wake up with sores on his face and shoulders. In the evenings when he used to come up with cowmilk for the household, we used to surround him to tell us the story of his ‘brave’ encounters. May be from there my interest in paranormal and horror genre started.

Well, coming back to my experience, yes my experience as now I can own the incident bravely. One day he was supposed to go to his village and return by the night. That evening another house help who was assisting him, came to deliver milk and gave the keys to his quarter, saying sorry as he couldnot stay in there. First we thought this guy is influenced by the stories but then he showed a slap mark on his left cheek, which he had covered from a cloth, used to tie on head to save from heat.

Next day, we children planned to go and see in the quarter, what the mystery was? So, without telling elders and the nannies and specially the governess, we sneaked out. Six of us, a whole bunch of screaming and shouting children, full of excitement, reached the outer garden and then crossed the garage areas and there was the outer line of the house helps’ quarters.

The keys were with the eldest cousin. At time he used to be very weak hearted. And I was the bravest one. All the others in the group encouraged me to take the keys and open the door. And being a good loving elder cousin to rest of them, I did what they wanted me to. We entered in and to my surprise, the bulb which one of us switched on, went off with a blast. And imagine who was the first to escape? No, it was not my eldest cousin, but me! Yes me. Because I have acoustic startle reflex. May be some of you might be laughing at me or questioning me over the claim of being bravest of the bunch, but believe me I know what the hell I deal with when I say ASR. Enough of my side story, I will tell you what happened next.

The moment I jumped out of the room, everyone followed the suit. I gathered my wit and entered again followed by rest. We stayed in there for about half an hour but nothing happened. Apart from one of my younger cousin, who actually was scared, felt cold and heard something. Looking at his condition we left the room and locked it again. Kept the keys back in place and didn’t utter a word about our expedition.

The guy returned in the evening instead of previous night. And we were eager to see if he notices something in room. He stayed the whole time out of it and after dinner retired to his room. We were watching him from the main gate to the main mansion.

Next day it was sunday, yet we woke up soon and gathered in the common verandah. Before elders could question us, we all ran from there towards the quarters and what we saw was unbelievable. The guy with his bed and bedding, was lying outside with the bed atop him. Rest of the men and their families had come out and surrounded him. He woke up and took all his belongings back in the room, came out shutting the door behind him. We asked him what had happened to which he shrugged his shoulders and told us that it was nothing new as every night someone threw him off his bed, only this time it’s out of the room with his bed. Then he went back to his work and we came back inside.

We didn’t say anything about our expedition and never spoke about this experience with anyone. Today, decades have passed but this is the second time I am mentioning this incident. Prior to this time I mentioned it to my hubby some two years ago, I think.

For now this is all. May be in next post I will share some other such experiences from my home and other places, that too if you like. Thank you for reading till end and if you didn’t then also for bearing with me.


The image above is from Lhairton Kelvin Costa at Pexels.

He lay still like a stone, with palms open and the ancient key lying in it. The question is, did he find the lock or the curse found him first? Seeing him for the first time hinted that he might be not so lucky that his death found him at the crucial moment of the discovery. The ancient lock is said to be hiding a large precious treasure of the then warrior clan, in a hidden temple of Durian, the lost city. He used to say that only a true Durian can find and unlock the temple’s treasure. He found the rusty key somewhere unexpected, thus believed he was true descendant of the long lost clan and would unearth the treasure for the benefit of his other brothers and sisters. The shocking fact is, that he was not one of them but only the bearer of the key. Which he was supposed to deliver to the rightful person. All this was written clearly in the old manuscript he clenched in his another hand which lay across his chest. May be he realised it too late. But now the question is, who is the rightful owner or does the person actually exist. The common knowledge says, the Durians are long extinct clan. But the finding of key, says something else and the key bearer according to the manuscript, suggests there is some truth in the legend. There must be a true Durian. The right time is come for them to raise and shine. But the question still remains unanswered, ‘ who is or where is? ‘

Opening of Schools

The decision to open the schools in this pandemic situation is not at all right on part of the government. They are making the children, lab rats. They want to test the severity of the situation on the children. As a parent, I want to know why don’t they open their assemblies and the Parliament, before opening the schools. Don’t they know that children are the future of a nation and not alone the family. May be the government is under some kind of pressure by the school management and their stakeholders but we the parents are the final decision makers in case of our children. Let them decide to open the schools but we will not let them fill their pockets at the price of our children. Strongly we oppose this and maintain the idea ‘ no vaccine no school’. Let them take as long as they want but no means a stern no for children going to school. They are easy prey to the virus.

The leaders of our nation are well Paid, have all the facility and arrangements to pull them out of the dire situation. They are in best position to get all the medical facilities and aids required if something happens to them or their family but we the general public are not.

For the sake of money to fill their pockets and to maintain the bank balances of their foes, they cannot play with the life and future of our children.

Their idea is to open the high school and senior high school classes for now and some particular colleges. But they and the ones who are supporting their idea, don’t they know the children of this age are equally vulnerable. Their is no age criteria as seen in many new and recent cases. They cannot be used as testing materials. The children are not safe to go to school or college in any arrangement as no one knows who is a asymptomatic carrier or who is hiding the condition on purpose.Even five to ten minutes of contact with such person is enough to set us back. Not only the students but the teachers are as much in danger. Children cannot be kept in control for a long period because as they see their friends and classmates they will keep aside the norms of social or physical distancing, whether they are in 33% capacity or more. The mentality of children is to break the norms or to find the ways to do so and once the teacher turns their back the children will gather and make mischief which is very dangerous in the present situation.  Even this goes for the young adults too. Their ideology is ‘let’s try what’s the harm in once?’. 

I don’t care whether it is central or state government’s descion my opinion is hard farmed that no school till zero case and a perfect vaccine. May be it sounds like a ramble of a concerned mother but think once and opine.

Encounter with Tiger

Year 1995. June.
Place Jim Corbett National Park.                           Time: 11:00 AM

We headed for breakfast, towards a small restaurant in the Ram Nagar santuary guest house.

The place was small but very luxurious for the government unit, it had a library and an amp hi theater apart from the restaurant. There was a ‘machan’ built on a tree near by our apartment and it was near the boundary surrounding  the guest house. Few meters away from this tree, there was a stage like structure built about the height of a single story. It was for climbing the elephant.

So, we stood in a que near the stairs  to go up and waited for our turn. After about fifteen minutes or so, we climbed the stage and we’re asked to climb the elephant in another five minutes. We all sat on same elephant.

The moment it started to move, it was an experience for lifetime. A wonderful memory to store. The way it swinged while it moved forward gave goosebumps that made me giggle. The ‘mahavat’ asked me to be quiet as we were on the safari and that too for tiger watching, so being quiet and still was for most requirement.

The elephant took us on a trail filled with excitement for both elders and children equally, through the deep jungle. Sometimes, patches of grassland emerged between the huge and dense trees where the grass was at the height of four to four and a half feet. The ‘mahavat’ said here the danger lurks hidden in the grasses, for the elephants carrying the tourists as last month same time a tiger attacked and elephant twice but the courageous elephant defeated the beast and took the  tourists back safely. But the tourists were so afraid that even though they were grown ups, they literally did shit n their pants and the lady with them started cry and fainted.

On listening to this incident, we were not afraid but our curiosity increased to another level, specially for us children. From those lurking open grass lands we moved to shaded grassland spots and at a distance we saw a herd of deers.  Moving ahead say for a half meter we saw some wild boars and at a place we saw a fawn and mamma deer fondling. This was the time, when all the childhood stories came tumbling forward to my mind from a deep slumber. It gave a different feeling, say, sort of nostalgia. How and where they lived and may be their homes were hidden somewhere in the deep jungle. In my mind at that time, the homes of the animals were same like depicted in the comic books. From there we moved in more deper part of the jungle.

At a distant part of the jungle we heard some particular type of whistling and at the same time the ‘mahavat’ got excited and asked us to be alert. He asked us to keep looking around carefully as we could get to see the big cat anytime now. I was so excited that I chuckled and told my baby brother how it would be a privilege to see it. Papa glowed at me signaling to be quiet.  My brother was sitting in front between my parents, just behind the ‘mahavat’, then sat my uncle and behind him sat aunt and me. We both sat adjacent to each other.

The ‘mahavat’ started to speed up the elephant and it literally started to walk briskly. From opposite came another elephant, carrying another sat of tourists but it was running in different direction so our ‘mahavat’ asked theirs, which direction? He pointed to the left behind us. And next moment, without loosing a second our elephant was turning back. Then it traced back the track from where we came, up to five hundred meters and then took another track and continued to walk in the direction of the whistling sound with that another elephant following us.

After reaching to spot between big trees and dense shrubs, I saw two or three more elephants standing in a circle and all tourists were pointing in a direction and bustling with excitement. I could not understand what was the matter. My brother was overexcited but still I didn’t get the point. And was busy figuring out what’s the reason, looking around and between the bushes. It was then that papa said there was lion, lying in its full majesty and giving us the chance to admire his beauty and charisma. In all the people, I think I was alone who could not get even the glimpse of it and told so to papa. The ‘mahavat’ then faced the elephant in the opposite direction so that me and aunty now faced the spot. Aunty was like oh my god! What a beauty. And me? I was like what, where and what the all fuss is about. I was looking around in all the directions except where I should actually be watching. Annoyingly mom told me to look down.

That was the moment. A moment of pride, a moment of thrill. Some feet below me, just meter away, lying there was a fifteen feet magnificent tiger. In its full glory he stretched like a mighty king, who seemed to be resting after a good kill and letting the admirers take a look. It seemed less bothered about all of us. I was all awestruck with its beauty, strength and stealth. I was so lost in my admiration of it that I forgot to take a picture. That massiveness of flesh and bones, raised its head just once to look at us and then waved its tail in a motion to flew off the flies and then went back to sleep. It seemed the tiger was telling his intruders to leave.

Taking the sign we turned back an left. On our way back to guesthouse, we met couple of safari elephants on their way to tiger trail but we later came to know others were not as lucky as us to have even a glimpse of tiger. Our ‘ mahavat’ asked for “tip” as a token for showing the tiger. Even other two ‘mahavats’ who returned empty handed, wanted some “tip” as we saw the tiger.

At lunch, everyone was talking about the sighting of tiger but no one knew who saw. It was then, someone at the reception asked the manager, and he pointed towards me ( I was standing near reception area to take some mouth freshners,  after lunch) and then the loads of congratulations poured in over our group.

That day and incident are graved in my memory like it happened yesterday, in its full vibrancy and details.