Showing posts with label BlogAdda. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BlogAdda. Show all posts

Thursday, July 16, 2020

TikTok

"To be creative means to be in love with life. You can be creative only if you love life enough that you want to enhance its beauty, you want to bring a little more music to it, a little more poetry to it, a little more dance to it.", writes Osho. Does this resonate with you? Are you blessed with a melodious voice and love to croon at times? Do you love to groove to the tune of songs? Are you an expert at cooking mouth-watering cuisines? Are you a fitness freak and want to share your knowledge about staying fit to the world at large? Or do you just want to talk about important social issues and want to bring some positive change in society? If any of these is true for you, you are a creative person beyond doubt.

 

We all know that the world wide web plays an important role in carving your creative niche and enabling you to reach out to more people. One such platform is TikTok. It's a very popular short video platform. Here you can create videos of singing, dancing, cooking, or you can just lip-sync to popular songs and brighten up an otherwise dull and dreary day.

 

But TikTok is not only about entertainment. It has also contributed towards educating masses about pressing issues of our masses. For example, recently the whole country was going through lockdown to contain the spread of COVID-19. In this time of the pandemic, TikTok launched an in-app quiz - "Kheloge Aap, Jeetega India", to build public awareness about COVID-19. Then there was the #GharBaithoIndiaCampaign to share ideas on how to stay safe and beat the lockdown blues.

 

Recently TikTok took an initiative under TikTok for Good to conduct workshops with various NGOs in order to generate awareness about critical social issues. The objective was to make the NGOs aware of how TikTok can be utilized to raise public awareness about pressing issues that concern the society at large. 

 

There was another campaign named #ShabashIndia as an intitiate to celebrate or rather salute the people who have contributed to the safety of the nation by staying at home or by working in order to contain the spread of COVID. TikTok created a fun video film to show how people are staying put by trying new things at home. 


In short, TikTok not just entertains, but educates also. "Our mission is to inspire creativity and bring joy.", says TikTok. By bringing the opportunity to showcase their talents to the masses, TikTok is surely democratizing creativity in India. So what are you waiting for? Download the TikTok app, unleash your creativity, make yourself known to all, or simply get entertained and educated. Click here to download TikTok. To watch the new videos in TikTok, click here.

Sunday, December 16, 2018

Days of Despair

My days were dark
Like an endless night,
When the clouds smother 
The moon and the twinkling stars.
I was living my days
On the edge of a cliff;
One moment of weakness-
And I would get drowned
In a bottomless depth.
I felt fear-
Fear gnawing at my heart,
Ready to swallow me
In it's clammy, salivating mouth.
But I was not ready to give in,
No matter if the nightmare
Loomed far and wide.
I mustered all my will power,
As I didn't want 
To be tied to pessimism only.
And I waited patiently 
For the black night
To usher in a new day,
Full of optimism and sunlight.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend,
WOW: Write A Poem Using These Words

an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

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Sunday, November 25, 2018

What If

"Those who are wise do not feel sorry over fate. Even with the greatest wisdom, that which is ordained will happen. No one can transgress the path that has been laid down."
--- Anukramanika Parva, The Mahabharata


Still we feel sorry over fate. You. I. We. Everybody. What if we could travel back in time and rectify our mistakes? What if we would have chosen a different path? What if this? What if that?

But no. No one can change his/her past. Only the present is ours. We all know that. Still when we ponder over our life's course in some lazy afternoon or in some sleepless night, we think about these 'what if's, though these thoughts are useless.

What if I hadn't met you?
What if I hadn't fallen in love,

With the wrong person, at the wrong time?
Could my life had been any different

Than it is now?
May be then that the naive girl

Would never have ceased to exist.
May be then that this cynical version of me

Would never have emerged.
What if we never made love
On that fateful night,

Like two intoxicated lovers,
Madly in love with each other?

May be then that we would never have become parents.
But what good does it serve 
To bring a new life on this earth
Born out of a broken marriage?

What if...
What if...

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend,

WOW: What If... Creative Writing Prompt

an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.


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Sunday, November 18, 2018

Life in A Small Town

She turned the key in the lock and opened the door. A sliver of light from the bulb in the staircase sneaked inside the room and made it partially visible. She fumbled for a few seconds in the semi-darkness of the room before she could lay her hands on the switchboard in the wall in right. She pressed all the switches in the switchboard in the hope that one among them must be the switch of the tubelight of the room. And she was right. The tubelight went on and lighted the entire room. She put off her sandals and closed the door behind. The first evening in this small town of Bengal welcomed her in the small neat flat rented by her.

Welcome to my life for it is my story. Being a government officer means I get transferred to a new place every few years. I am accustomed to this life. But this time it was different as I had to leave behind my 6-years-old son. He had started his school and as none of my family members were in a position to move with me, I had no other way but to leave him in the care of my family members back at home.

That first day in that new place, new abode of mine, I felt terribly lonely. As if I was living in a far off place in exile. As if that was a barren place, devoid of any human touch, any semblance of love. The windows of my bedroom opened in the backyard of the apartment. There was a boundary wall and a few trees beside the wall. On the other side of the wall, there was an open field and a poultry farm. No human being was in sight as far as my eyes could see. I felt loveless, alone, vulnerable.

When I returned home from office, I was quite busy. It was drizzling outside and in spite of the untimely rain, I had to venture outside to buy the bare necessities for survival. On my return, I had to wash the utensils and make arrangements for dinner. I washed the rice and lentils, cut the vegetables in pieces, made an omlette. After I was done with dinner, I combed my hair and plaited it. Finally when it was time to go to sleep, I suddenly felt that sleep had eluded me. Sitting in that dark bedroom, in that rain-drenched October night, I was missing my son terribly. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks and there was no one to console me. Finally I got asleep at the wee hours of night. Next day I got up with a headache and missed office. But I knew that no matter what happens, I would have to survive every ordeal. I would have to find happiness in the midst of all. And I started to accustom myself with life in that small town. Because no matter how difficult the circumstances are, life must go on.


This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend,
 WOW: She Turned The Key In The Lock And Opened The Door
an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.


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Saturday, September 15, 2018

A Difficult Love Story

 

"I am what I am. So take me as I am." 
- Johann Wolfgang, German philosopher.

The night was eerily calm, the sky as seen from the balcony of our third floor flat was black, without a single star twinkling. It was late monsoon. And after a continuous drizzle for the entire day, the sky was still overcast, though the rain had subsided for the time-being. I rested my back on the chair, as I plugged the headphone in my ear.

"Pehle pyaar ka pehla gum
Pehli baar hain aankhen num
Pehla hai tanhaai ka yeh mausam
Aa bhi jaao varana ro denge hum."
As I listened to the song for the n-th time, tears started streaming down my face once again. Suddenly a gentle touch on my head broke my reverie. It was a healing touch. I looked over my shoulder and found my mother standing behind me. 
"Come. Dinner is ready.", she said laconically.
"I am not hungry, Maa."
"But skipping dinner is not good for your health dear."
"Will you please leave me alone?", I said brusquely.
She sighed and left silently.

It all started four years ago, when a chance encounter with Vineet changed the course of my life. I was happy and content with my life till then. He came like a gust of wind in my life and I knew that my life would never be the same again.

I hail from an educated, upper-middle class Bengali family of Kolkata. God has blessed me with wonderful parents who are always rooting for me. So when I decided to study English literature, inspite of fetching good marks in science in +2, my parents didn't object. Later, when I took up the teaching job in a local school, inspite of my excellent academic background which could have easily secured more lucrative job for me, my parents again didn't force me. The salary that I earn as the English teacher is decent to ensure a comfortable life for me. During weekends, I volunteer at a NGO named "Hope Foundation" working for the betterment of the lives of underprivileged children. I immensely enjoyed the company of children, both at the NGO and at my school, though I knew for sure that I'll never have any of mine. My parents were eager to get me married. But once I expressed to them my lack of interest in marriage, they never forced me to marry against my will.

I met Vineet at the birthday party of my colleague Mitali's son - Tublu. Mitali is the Geography teacher in the same school where I teach. She is not just a colleague, she is a good friend of mine. Vineet is a distant cousin of Mitali's husband. I never believed in love-at-first-sight until then. But when I saw Vineet, I knew that love can indeed happen at first sight. Vineet Agarwal - tall, fair and handsome - as if a hero incarnated from a Mills and Boon book. He was working as a Software Engineer in a leading MNC in Bangalore. He hails from an orthodox family in U.P. He is twenty years older to me. Guys of that age are normally married. So my first thought was that probably he had a wife. And kids, too. Suddenly I felt a pang of jealousy hitting me. How lucky is that woman who has a husband like Vineet. Though he was not seen with his family in that birthday party. Mitali introduced us to each other, though we didn't get much time to talk and get to know each other, because it was Tublu's time to cut the cake. After that, all guests hurried to have dinner. Meanwhile, I somehow failed to manage to talk to Vineet. Later in school, I came to know from Mitali that Vineet was still single. "Why?", I was curious. "I don't know exactly. May be, he is just not interested."

I met him again exactly after one year, at Tublu's next birthday party. This time I made it a point to talk to him. Conversation flowed easily, as if we knew each other since ages and we exchanged mobile numbers. Though I had his mobile number, I was hesitant to call him this time. But I was pleasantly surprised when I received a call from him a couple of weeks after the birthday party. He told me that he would be visiting Kolkata for a few days for some official work and that he wanted to meet me. The very thought of meeting him in person gave me goosebumps. We met at CCD and over a cup of coffee, he confessed his feelings for me.

Ah, that feeling of first love. It feels like the first shower of monsoon after a prolonged scorcher. It feels like the warm embrace of blanket on a chilly winter night.

But I knew right from the beginning that our families would never approve of our relationship. My parents were shocked when they came to know of this, whereas his family threatened to disown him. He suggested to elope, but I never wanted to take him away from his parents.

"You knew right from the beginning that our families would never approve of this relationship. But now you don't want this relationship without parental approval. Why? What right do you have to ruin my life in this way?", yelled Vineet over mobile.
"Pardon me, if you can", I sobbed.

"The Supreme Court decriminalised Sec 377 of IPC in a big win for the LGBT community. 'History owes an apology to the LGBT community. They were made to live a life of fear.' " , read the newspaper headline. Tears started streaming down my face. These were tears of joy. How long have I waited for this day to come!

Vineet paid the bill of two cups of cappuccino. Then he went ahead and pulled the glass-door of CCD open and stepped on the pavement. It was supposed to be our last meeting. He had come all the way to Kolkata from Bengaluru to bid me goodbye. He was going to USA, putting an end to our relationship. Sitting inside, I was sobbing uncontrollably. People were looking at me strangely. Perhaps they had never seen a guy crying publicly before. Suddenly I stood up from the chair and wiped my tears. They were looking, but I didn't care. I ran to him anyway and hugged him tightly.
"I'll never let you go, Vineet. I'll fight for our love. I'll fight for love like ours that wither in fear of society."
"I love you too, Sanjay. Never leave me. Ever. Together we'll tide over all the obstacles.", whispered Vineet in my ears.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend,
WOW: I Ran To Him/Her Anyway
an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’ 

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This is a WOW post!

Image Source: Pexels
 
This post titled "Theirs Was A Difficult Love Story With Generation Differences... Yet, Love Always Wins!" has been published on Women's Web as a Featured Post. Featured Posts are a careful selection of highly relevant and interesting posts picked up by the editors of Women's Web each day. To read the full story, Click here.

Sunday, December 10, 2017

A little love-story

Our school-bus is stranded at the junction of four roads. The traffic jam is a common phenomenon at this time of the day. There is traffic snarls all around, busy commuters on the pavement, the December chill in the air and... and, that large billboard on roadside advertising "Lalita Dance Academy". A woman is seen in it, wearing dancing costumes, in a typical Kathak dance pose. Srija is a student of this dance academy.

Well, I haven't introduced myself yet. I am Satyaki Chatterjee, 5-years-old, student of KG in a school in Kolkata. Right now, I am on my way to school in my white-and-green school uniform and red sweater. I commute to and from school in our school's yellow-coloured school bus. Yes, my mom has allowed me to go by school bus now-a-days, as I am a big boy now and I don't cry when going to school any more. After all, I am not a baby any more, right? And I have made quite a few friends in school now... Aryan, Soham, Daniel, Rai, and... and Srija.

Srija is my classmate. I like her right from my first day of school. I still remember that day vividly. On that first day of school-life, the classroom seemed like a wild forest, full of strangers. I haven't known any place other than my home till then. In that unknown classroom, I didn't know who'll look after me, who'll take me to the washroom to pee, who'll feed me when I get famished. Mom was not seen anywhere. I was terrified and I started to cry. Srija was sitting in the desk next to me. Watching me crying, she too started to yell. It was a classroom filled with thirty odd students, all crying, sobing, yelling. Then came the teachers to console us. Our dance teacher, Priyanka ma'm, hugged both Srija and me, and comforted us. Later, when the cry subsided, I noticed her. In her pink cheeks, big eyes and brown traces, she looked really cute. I felt an instant liking for her. Gradually, we became friends and started talking a lot. We even got punished by the class-teacher for talking during class on more than one occasions.

The Annual Day Celebration of our school is scheduled to be held before the commencement of the Christmas holidays. Srija is performing a dance there. Last year too, she performed a dance. And needless to say, it was just fantastic! This year, too, I am eagerly waiting for the day just to watch her performance.

Today is 24th December. The whole school is decorated beautifully with flowers. The school auditorium is full of students. The anchor announces Srija's name. And here she comes. Today she is looking resplendent in her red-bordered yellow sari. She has mastered the dance moves even more perfectly during the past year. I am dazed. Then just when she comes down from the stage, Soham stands up from his seat, picks up a rose which was kept in a large vase within a bouquet of flowers in the auditorium and offers it to Srija. "You were just amazing", he said. Then he produced a Cadbury from his trouser's pockets and offers it too to her. "Soham, you are my bestie", she proclaims. I instantly feel something twinge deep within me. What is it called? Well, five-year-olds don't know it's name perhaps.

Soham's Papa has come from his official tour in Switzerland. "Do you guys know what I found when he opened his suitcase?", Soham is asking us. "What? What?", we all ask in unison. "See, these chocolates." He offered us all chocolates bought from Switzerland. "And this is only for Srija. These biscuits are called leckerlis. They have hazelnuts and they are very tasty." "Oh Soham, you always know what I like", Srija gives him a hug. I felt that familiar twinge somewhere deep within one more time. Then the clock strikes nine and our class-teacher enters the classroom.

The winter season has come to an end. The trees flanking the roads are flaunting new leaves. Once again, spring has come in Kolkata. Our final exam too, has ended.

Today is the day of distributing progress reports. "Congratulations children. You all are promoted to class one", says our class teacher. We all take our bags and get ready to exit from our classroom. I was coming out of the classroom when I heard a scream. "Help me! Please, someone help me!" It was Srija. A cockroach was right on her desk, staring at her. And to my horror, her school-bag was still there on her desk. A chill is coming down my spine. Danial, Soham, Rai, all are standing near the door, fear writ large on their face. Suddenly, I felt the need to protect her from this great danger. I opened my bag hurriedly, took out my pencil-box and hit the cockroach with it. Then I took Srija's bag from the desk and holding her by her hand, took her out of the classroom. "Satyaki, you are my bestie from now on". She gave me a tight hug, tears welling in her eyes. Getting promoted to class one can't be more wonderful than this. Isn't it, friends?

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend
WOW - Construct A Story
an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

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Sunday, December 3, 2017

At the age of Twenty

If given a choice to pick a age for the rest of my life, I'll definitely choose you, my 20 years of age. No, I am not going to choose 3 years, the age of my first encounter with school, for I have only vague recollections of that age now. I'll not choose 13 years, the age of the transformation from being a girl to being a woman, for that age was full of embarassment. Not 18 years either, the age of being an adult, for in that age I was too busy in preparing for my engineering entrance to think about the facilities of coming of age. 28 years? The age of motherhood? Yes, motherhood is indeed blissful, I do admit that, but then that was a period of turmoil in my life. So, I choose you, 20 years. You are the age full of youthful energy, love for life and lot of laughter. You are all that, and more than that.

"Jisne hamein milaya, jisne juda kiya
Us waqt, us ghadi, us gajar ko salaam
Aye pyaar teri pehli nazar ko salaam
Salaam aye pyaar teri pehli nazar ko salaam"


(The one who united us, the one who separated us
I salute that time, that moment, that clock
Hey love, I salute your first sight 
Hey love, I salute your first sight)


Today, as I sit back and reflect on that age, this song comes to my. Yes, 20 years, you are special, for you made me meet my first crush. And as all of us know, what on earth can be as innocent as the first encounter with love at the age of 20 years? Yes, my crush for him never materialized into any relationship. And yet, I don't have any regret for that now. Because with growing maturity, you come to realize that in any relationship, there are many ups and downs, there are pains of separation, there are break-ups and tear-drops. But not in one-sided crush. In any stage of life, if you remember your first crush, that'll surely lit up your soul and leave a lingering smile on your lips. And I am thankful to my 20 years of age for gifting me that experience.

And I remember one particular afternoon vividly. Back in my college days, I used to be a member of The British Council. On one such day, which was a holiday in our college, I had gone to the British Council Library. I was  searching for the books to borrow. I zeroed on a few and took a paper from my bag to write the names of the books. When I opened the folded paper, I got the shock of my life. Scribbled in the paper was a love-letter, addressed to me. There was no name of the sender, just a "Guess Who" written in the bottom of the page. I knew the handwriting. It was none other than him. That afternoon seemed the most magical afternoon in Kolkata. The fading sun-light had the hue of honey. The traffic seemed to move slowly at Chowringhee. I was not walking, I was floating in the afternoon breeze.

That was the magic of the age of 20 years. The world seemed to be a fair place to live in, the life ahead seemed to be promising, friendships seemed to be ever-lasting, all the peppy Bollywood numbers seemed to be meaningful in real life.

Hey 20, I miss you. But you are always there, close to my heart, close to my soul. Even today, when life seems too dull and dreary, I just remember you. And see, your memories always leave a bright smile on my face. Cheers to 20!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend
What One Age Will You Pick For The Rest Of Your Life And Why?
an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

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Sunday, November 12, 2017

Pal Ye Bhi Jaanewala Hai

"Aanewala Pal Jaanwala Hai,
Ho Sake To Iss Mein Zindagi Bitaado
Pal Jo Yeh Jaanewala Hai..."

(The moment that is to arrive, is about to pass by,
If you can, in it, live your life...
This moment, that is about to pass by.)

I often hum this song. Just like now, as I am writing these lines, I am crooning this beautiful song, with it's beautiful lyrics soothing my soul.

It's not just a song for me, it's my philosophy of life. Gulzar Saab has done a great job by intertwining deep philosophy into lyrical words, that's sure to touch a chord somewhere within us.

Our time is limited. Moments come and go. In between these moments, we must seek to live our life. Our precious life.

"Ek Baar Waqt Se Lamha Gira Kahin
Wahan Dastan Milim Lamha Kahin Nahin
Thoda Sa Hasaake, Thoda Sa Rulaake,
Pal Ye Bhi Jaanewala Hai..."

(Once, a moment fell from the grasp of time somewhere
There I found this legend, The moment was nowhere,
Making you laugh a little, Making you cry a little
This moment is also about to pass by...)

Surely, we have our own moments of joy as well as moments of sorrow. But none is permanent. Some moments make us smile, some make us cry. Ultimately, they all pass by. Whenever I remember this philosophy, it makes me sober in times of ecstatic joy. Likewise, in moments of extreme despair, it comforts me, for after all, we all know that 'Pal Ye Bhi Jaanewala Hai.' That's the beauty of life, where nothing persists. Impermanence is the law of life.

This philosophy is rooted in our very own Indian culture. In the Mahabharata also, this same philosophy has been preached.

"Aivam aitad anaadya antam bhootasamhaara kaarakam
Anaadi nidhanam loke chakram sam parivartate..."

(And in this way the wheel of Time causes destruction of everything, without beginning or end.)

It is the Big Bang of the Hindu cosmology. The central theme of the Mahabharata is this very dual nature of existence: one reality which the human mind inhabits with itself at the core and the universe revolving around it, the other governed by the relentless passage of time to which all of creation- both animate and inanimate- must ultimately succumb.

Without going into the intricacies of the deeper philosophy, this song preaches to live life in it's moments, to live a full life, to savour all the tastes that life has to offer. And that is the beauty of it's lyrics. When in despair, just remember that 'Pal Ye Bhi Jaanewala Hai'. That may not help to subside your pain, but that will at least give you enough strength to sail through your tough times more smoothly.

Have you heard this song? If not, do give it a try. It's worth your time and effort. 

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend,
Favourite Song Lyrics - WOW
an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

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Saturday, September 16, 2017

Life is a box of.....

She is Shabnam, a young woman from Rakhine province of Myanman. She got married less than a year ago and is now carrying a four-month life in her womb. In recent past, some masked men had beheaded her husband, as they are Rohingyas, the nowhere people. Those men did not spare even a single male member of her family. She did not know how she managed to cross to Bangladesh across the unending hilly terrain, treacherous jungle tracts and turbulent waters. But she did finally make it to Bangladesh. This woman, sitting in stony licence in one corner of the makeshift camp for Rohingya refugees, numbed by the recent turn of events, eyes staring into nothingness, at Kutupalang Camp, what does life mean to her? Perhaps for her and people like her, life is a box of lemons- sour in it's every bite.

She is Puja, mother of Priyam, a 7-years-old child, who was found brutally murdered inside the premises of his school. Puja had everything a woman can ask for. A loving husband and two small kids- she had a perfect family. Her husband is well-established and both of her children are students of a reputed International school. Everything seemed perfect until that fateful day. That day she got a call from school informing her that her son was injured. She rushed to the school, then to the nursing home, only to find her son dead. From that moment onwards, life is a box of red chillies for her- whose every bite always leaves her eyes teary.

She is Rohini, a celebrity movie actress. This Durga Puja, she will be busy inaugurating Pujas in Kolkata. As far as Puja inaugurations are concerned, she is in high demand. Though she has told some organizers that it was impossible to keep all requests. Moreover, one of her block-buster movies will be released just after the Pujas. Yes, life has been kind to her. For her, life is a box of sweets.

Each one of us go through different life experiences. Call it destiny, or the will of the Almighty, you are presented with a box, the contents of which are not decided by you. But it's upto you how you will react to your box. 

 ‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend
an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

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Saturday, August 26, 2017

To the Sweet Sixteen

Dear Sweet Sixteen,

I really envy you these days. How innocent you are, how strong your faith is in the goodness of the human nature, how you laugh with gay abandon, how your eyes sparkle when you think about your future. My future. You wait for the coming years with a heart full of hope, of love and longing. Yes, you long for the adventures of the adulthood. When you look forward to your future, you look for the brighter side that life has to offer to you, for your heart is free from any negativity, unlike me.

Study hard girl, for you have miles to go. You will climb high through the ladder of success. Success will be a necessity in your life, for you'll have to shoulder many responsibilities in your grown-up years. So learn to be responsible and matured, for immaturity may cost you dear.

If possible, DON'T SETTLE. That's the single most advice from me to you. Though I know that when it comes to matters of heart, we are all slaves of our hearts. Heartbreaks will be inevitable in love for you, though suffering is optional. Nothing goes wrong than love gone wrong. One single mistake can change your life forever. One advice I want you to etch in your memory: You are very special, very precious, at least to me, if not to anybody else in the world. So please promise me, you'll not allow anybody to belittle you. Always feel free to choose your own happiness over and above everything.

Lastly, try to maintain that innocence of yours as long as possible. I want you to look at the world with the same wonder in your eyes for a whole lifetime. Smile today, for you may not get many reasons to smile tomorrow. It's your life and it's waiting for you with all it's sunshine and rain. Live it in your own way. Live it. Love it.

With love and all the good wishes,
Your 30-something self.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend,

Saturday, August 5, 2017

Our Unforgettable Friendship


"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather is one of those things that give value to survival."
--C.S.Lewis

Yes, these three wonderful persons add value to my survival, every day, every hour. We four share a kind of bond that's unlike every other relationship. We four- me, Priyanka, Shatarupa and Susmita. We are friends since our school days.

Priyanka is the most beautiful person among us. She is the traditional doe-eyed beauty, beautiful, slender and petite. Yet what makes her stand out is not just her beautiful appearance, but the inner beauty that she has in her.
Shatarupa is no less beautiful. From a clumsy, small town school girl, she has now grown up to be a smart, bold and beautiful lady.
Susmita is that superwoman who knows how to balance both her professional and personal lives. She is a down-to-earth, pragmatic person.

The four of us. We know each other for such a long time that we can understand even the unsaid words of each other. A deluge of memories. We sitting in the last bench of our all-girls-high-school, one of us is sharing a secret, others listening to it wide-eyed. Priyanka being the most beautiful among us, received many love-letters, which we all read together. Then there were those endless gossips. The sharing of lunch. And with all these, the high school ended.

We enrolled in different colleges. Yet, we made it a point to be in touch with each other. Though our talks became less frequent over time. We all met again at Priyanka's wedding. Priyanka went abroad with her husband soon. We all got busy with our respective lives. Me and Susmita found jobs. With time, we all got married and had kids. Our infrequent talks over phone and social media sites continued.

Finally, there came Whatsapp in the scene. It changed the whole landscape of our friendship. We now have a whatsapp group of our own, with only four members. It makes us connect more intimately. Whenever any one of us feels low, she knows that there are three persons out there who will not judge her for any of her actions, who are ready to lend a shoulder to cry on, and who will always stand by her through thick and thin. They are not her parents, not her siblings, not her in-laws, not even her partner. They are her best friends. For every other relationship may not stand the test of time, but our friendship does. Friends are God's best creations, His best gifts to humanity. And I am truly blessed to have three wonderful friends in my life.

Today, on this occasion of Friendship Day, I want to thank each three of my sweeties for whatever they have done for me. Dearies, today I want to dedicate this song to you three and our friendship:
" Yaaron dosti badi hi haseen hai,
yeh na ho to kya phir
bolo ye zindagi hai...
"


This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend,
an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’


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