Begin Again.

Honey, did you finish your breakfast?” said Skylar. Skylar Brown. A lady in her late 30′s as she fumbled across the kitchen counter, trying to close the lid of that new cookie jar she had recently bought. Looking at her, one could barely believe that she had long passed her prime of youth. Raven Black eyes, lips always glossed with that shade of Crimson she adored, curvy body, and golden and radiant skin that always glowed. Hair neatly tied in a top bun. One could easily say she had everything. A husband that loved her more than dear life itself.

The day she had transformed herself from Skylar Martin to Skylar Brown was (as she put it) one of the days she’d always be thankful for. David was the man she had fallen in love with, the first time he had bought him a chocolate ice-cream in the senior year of college. It had rained heavily that night, and they had stayed awake till the morning talking about each other, their likes, their family, their ambitions and even their differences.  They had both held on to each other even after 16 years of marriage. Both of them had got what they wanted. David was a Businessman and owned his own firm. It was what he and his dad always wished for. And it was this passion and future plan that he had told Skylar about, the night it had rained and also the night they had kissed for the first time. Skylar was a  writer. Or more like a novelist. Not a very famous one, but this was what she loved doing. She had always wanted to become a writer, because for her it wasn’t about money or fame, it was about the inner peace and serenity she got after finishing every piece of writing she ever wrote.  Two of her book’s had been published so far, and they were quite in demand at the local book stores.

She had a lovely house. A wooden cottage of two-storeys, with polished wooden floors. The walls were decorated with a galaxy of paintings of famous artists from around the world, thanks to David’s love for art. The furniture was made of dark ebony wood with curtains of a slightly lighter shade.

“Yes Mom”, said Lilly. A young brunette who had turned 15 last month. She had acquired all her beauty from her mother, as David often used to say. “I see you, when I see her” and Skylar used to melt a little more every time he mentioned this. Lilly was like a shadow of her mother in her yester-years. She was beautiful and attracted much of male attention, as one could see by the several number of boys with flowers that knocked every hour on birthday’s. Just like the boys who used to follow Skylar home after college, the boys who David hated from every nerve in his body.
This was Skylar’s life. A wonderful daughter. A loving husband. A perfect home. And a job that she loved.
“And mom, I’ll be a little late after school today, I’ve to attend Emma’s birthday party” said Lilly tying her hair in a pony tail.

“But don’t you have your tennis lessons, and what about tutoring the kids?” Skylar was disturbed.
“Mom? She’s my Best Friend. Didn’t you have any?”
And Skylar froze. She traced Lilly’s footsteps to the door and thud! The door was shut. Silence. She could hear her heartbeat co-inciding with the ticking of the clock. It was as if in this second, at this very moment, she had been awakened from a very deep slumber. As if she was stuck in between past and present. And the image of Natalie flashed in her head. She was shivering and perspiring at the same time. Slowly she gained control and sat down on the black couch near the Chinese yellow lamp, on the side table.

Natalie was her best friend since the time she couldn’t even remember. How could she have forgotten her?  She remembered the last time they had seen each other. The day Skylar had left New Jersey to follow her dreams. She had promised her she would call. But she didn’t. Skylar felt a lump in her throat as the guilt rose slowly from within her body.

She wondered if Natalie had become an Architect. She recollected how Natalie always expressed her love for Italian architecture. Did she ever made it to Paris? Or she ever got the chance to see the Indian Mughal Architecture she blabbered about? She remembered what a complete chatter-box she was, always on the height of excitement and forever giggling.

Skylar remembered how they had promised to stay together forever. How they had sworn to never let a guy come in between their friendship. How she had taken her stand when Skylar was accused of cheating in a test. She missed the warm christmas evenings they had spent together when her mother used to make hot soup and turkey while her dad narrated them old christmas tales.

A tear rolled down her cheek.  She couldn’t help but remember how Natalie used to proudly say, “One day, I’m going to plan your wedding”, and she hadn’t even invited her. It’s not that she didn’t want to, but time was not in her favor. Skylar felt extremely ashamed of herself. She had been so self-occupied and obsessed that she had forgotten all those who had loved her from the beginning and been there for her at every hour of her need. She remembered all her college buddies and how much she missed them. She missed being carefree. She missed her pranks and roguery . She missed running wildly in a game of ice and water. She missed pulling legs of people. She missed how she always became the princess in the game of “The Princess and the Frog” and lastly, she missed herself. She missed the old Skylar.

Slowly she got up, as she picked her purse and car keys. She took a glance of the empty house and went to the “Central Writer’s Publishing”. The same building she had been working in, from the day her first book got published. She knew it wasn’t too late, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to do this. She picked up her phone anyway and dialled a number she had obtained from her mother. Her heart beated rigorously against her chest as the phone rang, when someone picked up the receiver, and there was this positive, exuberant,dynamic and energetic voice , that said, “Hello, this is Natalie Palmer?”

And a smile flushed on Skylar’s face.


“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” said the girl,  “It is my very first confession. These are my sins.” The priest crossed his heart, patiently waiting for whatever was next. “I killed 7 people in 7 days.” For a moment, he was silent. Such information was hard to consider when coming from a young girl’s mouth. He had heard worst, but this one shook him no less.  “I absolve you from your sins. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

She left the church at an instant. It was a bleak winter evening. Fog had spread around the isolated street blurring the golden light from the lamps. She walked straight to her house. Climbed in through her window from where she had escaped and lay in bed staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to overpower and him to come. She was scared, but satisfied. “It all ends tonight,” she thought. She had done what had been asked of her. A little smile spread across her face.

She opened her eyes to see a stale new morning wrapped under a warm blanket. Mom must have been in her room. She was puzzled, scared, anxious. Not knowing what to make out of this.

Why didn’t he come? He had promised her on the seventh day he would let her touch him, maybe take her away with him. She decided to sleep a little more but found herself lost in thoughts. Questions. Doubts. But more importantly, Fear. “What would I do now?” She started shivering and it wasn’t soon when she found herself in a pool of tears.

The next day she was captured by the police and sentenced to 5 years in jail. She was yelling. Crying for people to help. People held her, trying to control the maddening body. “It was him! He made me do this! He came in my dreams every night and told me to kill someone!!  He promised he would then take me away!! It Was Him!!!” She cried! Cried so much her throat ached. Who would believe her? The Mad girl claiming to kill people because a boy in a dream told her to.

Everyone gaped with wide eyes. full of terror, disbelief and pity. No one willing to consider what she just told. People thought jail wasn’t a safe place for her. So she was sent to the city asylum.
She still yells every night. Who knows who she’s talking to? Maybe he did visit her after all.

21st Century Affair.

Woman In Black.
In my black skinny jeans,

I scan the market,

I see shoulders and heads,

Passing me by,



It is slightly windy today,

So my black straight hair drifts softly,

Tickling my cheek lightly,

I am alone,

Alone in a street full of heads and shoulders.


I settle the wings of my Black eye-liner,

Then I keep walking up a straight path,

Expectations fading like the sweetness of my chewing gum,

Heads and shoulders bent down,

Drowning in those touch screens,

Oblivious of the weather around.


That’s when I notice him,

Black Tuxedo, Black tie,

The pocket in his tux adorned by a prim,

Black shoes and Black watch.

Black dominating his wholesome attire.


He comes in my direction,

Alas! he doesn’t see me,

Too engrossed in his touch-screen,

That he doesn’t glance a look,

At my black skinny jeans or my black straight hair.


He passes by me,

Moistening the air with his sweet perfume,

A Black scent, I suppose.

I turn around to have a look at him,

But he soon disappears amidst those,

Bent heads and bent shoulders,

Leaving me alone again,

Depriving me of the brief sense of companionship.


I continue walking straight again,

Wondering if I’ll ever see him,

What would have happened if there wasn’t that touch screen,

And his eyes had met mine and mine his,

Would he have stopped and asked my name?

Or maybe a cup of coffee down the lane?


My thoughts wither away,

And my eyes retreat,

As I walk down the busy street,

With bent heads and shoulders,

My gaze somehow affixed,

Over the Black Night Sky above,

Studded with Jewels, Diamonds and Love.


Nominated For The Liebster Award!

Wow! That sounds like an Oscar to me. First of all,
Thank You,

for finding me worthy enough to be nominated. 🙂
I learned about this award and saw various exquisite bloggers getting nominated. Well, somewhere inside my heart silently prayed to be included too. And so to prove John Green wrong (raises collar) “Life maybe IS a wish granting factory” 🙂
You know it’s kind of a big deal for a beginner! And so I’ll continue this enthralling trend.


The Rules Go Something Like This-:


1. Thank the person who nominated you, and post a link to their blog on your blog.

2. Display the award on your blog — by including it in your post and/or displaying it using a “widget” or a “gadget”. (Note that the best way to do this is to save the image to your own computer and then upload it to your blog post.)

3. Answer 11 questions about yourself, which will be provided to you by the person who nominated you.

4. Provide 11 random facts about yourself.

5. Nominate 5 – 11 blogs that you feel deserve the award, who have a less than 1000 followers. (Note that you can always ask the blog owner this since not all blogs display a widget that lets the readers know this information!)

6. Create a new list of questions for the blogger to answer.

7. List these rules in your post (You can copy and paste from here.) Once you have written and published it, you then have to:

8. Inform the people/blogs that you nominated that they have been nominated for the Liebster award and provide a link for them to your post so that they can learn about it (they might not have ever heard of it!


Over to the facts-:

1) I believe in Miracles.
2) I love Chinese and Italian cuisine.
3) I sometimes speak to myself.
4) I can cook. Not a ‘Lick Your Fingers’ cook. But I’m okay.
5) I’m married to Jensen Ackles in my mind.
6) Music is my passion.
7) I have ‘The Best’ Best Friend on this Earth.
8) I love to read books and can quietly spend my entire life in a library.
9) I STILL don’t have an Android phone. (Yeah, you can laugh)
10) My brain is practically overflowing with thoughts all the time.
11) I wear T-shirts. LOTS of T-shirts.

Questions Answered-:

Q.1) When and why did you start blogging?

1) I started blogging on August 24th, 2013 when I posted my very first blog with a scintillating spark. I blog because I needed a proper place to collect all these thoughts that created a turmoil in my head. I needed to be among people who’re just like me. Who write for peace and happiness, not for competition.

Q.2) Pick three things/people to bring with you if you were to be stranded on an island.

2) Books. My Phone (As it has my music) and Food.

Q.3) Where do you see yourself 10 years from now?

3) A promising writer with at least one book published.

Q.4) What is the thing you love the most?

4) Actually there not A thing, there are THINGS that I love the most. My Family. My Best Friend. My Music.

Q.5) If you knew everyone you know was going to die tomorrow, who would you visit?

5) If you mean a single person then definitely my Best Friend as she lives in a different town. 🙂

Q.6) What was the last lie you told?

6) “I’ll do the chores by the end of the day for sure”

Q.7) If you could be a celebrity for one day who would you choose to be?

7) Katy Perry.

Q.8) If you could be any age for a week, what age would you be?

8) 14 year old. No tension, no stress.You could have fun all day!

Q.9) If you could erase one disaster/war that happened in the world which would it be?

9)  2002 Gujarat Riots.

Q.10) Three words you would use to describe your blog.

10) Romantic. Poetic. Mind-Boggling.

Q.11) Complete the sentence: Is it…

11) Is it the low rumble of your heartbeat that coincides with mine?


And the Nominees Are-:

My 11 questions for you-:

1) What is the purpose of your blog? Or is there any?
2) Your wildest fantasy?
3) If you had one superpower, what would it be?
4) Have you ever witnessed a miracle?
5) What is the one thing you desperately want?
6) List 3 people you’d die for.
7) Where do you see yourself 5 years from now?
8) Your most embarrassing moment?
9) Your most memorable trip?
10) If you got the chance to personally meet me, would you want to?
11) What is the source of your inspiration to write?

Leave Yourself Alone.

It was a state of utter confusion and havoc for Jenny. She ran like a whirlwind across her room from her closet to her drawer, crossing her bed over a thousand times. “Oh God, Oh God!!”  cried the 17 year old brunette. Numerous colors could be seen on her bed. Different fabrics. Like a rainbow. An expensive rainbow, of course. These were the countless dresses she had tried and rejected. One made her look short, one made her look rotund and apparently one’s color didn’t match her hair. Prom was in an hour and according to her she still didn’t have nothing to wear, which sounded ironical keeping in mind the tornado of dresses on her bed.
Mom could hear the shrieks and cries and “Oh God I’m so screwed!!” from the kitchen down below. She took a deep breath while making tea for Grandma. It was hard for her to understand what was wrong with the peach silk dress aunt Anna had bought her. It looked lovely on her.
“YES!” came a cry from upstairs. Mom almost dropped the tea-pot, startled. Grandma didn’t say anything. After half an hour, Jenny came running downstairs. “Mom, how do I look?” Is the mascara okay? “Do you think I look fat?’ Are these shoes going well with this dress?” She ran and looked in the mirror near the dining cupboard. “I think I should put a little more lip-gloss? Or is it fine?”
“Honey, you look okay,” said mom “You don’t need to be so conscious about yourself.” She looked tired and a little sympathetic, as if she was through this mood swing before. Grandma was watching the whole drama sipping her warm tea.
“You don’t understand mom”, said Jenny. “I think I may be granted permission to the VIP booth in this dress”, she said tossing her hair, as if it made any difference.
“For God’s sake, Leave Yourself Alone!” blurted Grandma, loosing her patience.
Both Mom and Jenny were quiet. This sudden outburst was very rare in grandma’s withering age. Jenny quietly made her way to the door, fully aware of what grandma meant.

Now, the purpose of this story is solely focussed on girls like Jenny who are increasing in threatening numbers. I don’t understand the need to gain perfection. Why are girls so worried about how they look, ALL THE TIME? I understand the need to dress well. I encourage girls to flaunt. But when I see people doubting themselves, I feel bad. And I feel the current domination of internet over teenagers is a very important reason behind this.


I saw this picture on the internet recently and it disturbed me intensely. Girls should know that sometimes it’s okay to be not okay. Just like the grandma said, ‘Stop bothering and doubting yourself, Leave Yourself Alone!’
It’s okay if your hair isn’t the way YOU want it to be, but it might look perfect. You may think those jeans enhance your thighs but they might just fit impeccably! Do not mould yourself according to the society, be who you are. You might have an entirely different view of the world. Stop starving yourself in order to ‘Fit In.’ Being healthy and fit is one thing, but to fast and quit food and water and air and earth! That’s insane! Those who love you will adore you even if you have too many freckles or your eye-liner is smudged. Don’t let your waist size decide whether you’re ‘Worth’ or not. YOU ARE. Period! So next time you look in the mirror,

10153989_625833804165405_8974103328670390195_nBecause you know,

“You can be the ripest, juiciest peach in the world, and there’s still going to be somebody who hates peaches.”

― Dita Von Teese