Showing posts with label Blogadda. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blogadda. Show all posts

Thursday, 19 November 2015


Who are you?
A crooked line on a face
A wrenched heart
Or a broken soul
Who are you?

You are just pieces
Pieces of hatred
Spewed here and there
You are the black
You are the blood
You are the Pause
But still
You are just pieces

I am the whole
I am the white
I am the mild
I am the wild
I am the heart
I am the start
That never ends
I am the whole
I am human
I am hope

You can cover me black
You can spew me mad
You can cut me piece by piece
You can tear me bad
But I am still whole

For every piece that falls
Millions will grow
For everything that’s black
Millions will glow
In white and gold

For every word of hate
There will be million words of faith
For every act of terror
There will be million hugs
and million smiles

For every bomb
There will be million first cries
For every bomb
There will be million first smiles
For every bomb
There will be million first steps

For every sunset
There will always be a dawn
For every Pause
There will always be a hope!

(C) Juztamom 2015

Tuesday, 3 November 2015


As a new mother few years back I was faced with a lot of questions. What is good and what is not good for my little bundle of joy? There were so many contradictory advice. One of the most contradictory advice I received was regarding the use of the diapers. I was told babies are extremely uncomfortable in diapers and cloth nappies are best for them. As a mother I wanted to make sure that my baby was comfortable but I was also tired with the never ending change of cloth nappies. So I used disposable diapers as often as I could. But deep in my heart I knew I was not comfortable about it.

Flash-forward to the birth of my second born, this time again I started with cloth nappies but it was extremely difficult to go ahead with it. I had a toddler and an infant and I realised I needed to make an informed decision. So I decided to buy a lot of different brands of diapers available in the market. I started with what I had earlier used. It was a popular brand but the baby looked uncomfortable. As a mother I was not at ease with it. With trial and error I finally found the perfect diaper for my younger one. He was at his active best when I started using Pampers Premium care pants. He is one of the naughtiest babies I have ever seen. So it was like a boon that the diaper allowed him to be his free self. It is one of the softest diapers. My little one looks completely at ease in it. In fact, I think the diaper has only encouraged his naughtiness. There is nothing that binds him down.

One of his greatest love is being in water. He loves splashing around and is always ready to jump in his bath tub. A few weeks back, we had few guests over for dinner. He was dressed up in a really cute formal suit, looking like a miniature Pierce Brosnan and that’s when he decided to have a pool party with his friends. Out went the suit and every piece of clothing from his body. His friends followed and within a few minute our house was full of naked and screaming toddlers running around and demanding for a pool party. We finally gave in to the demand and the kids ended up having a lot of fun at the dinner cum pool party (Yes, they refused to come out and ate in the washroom) That night will remain as one of the fondest memories of him growing up.
My little one is free spirited and I am glad I have been able to nurture his spirits and let him evolve.

"This post is a part of the Pampers #SoftestForBabySkin activity at BlogAdda

Sunday, 11 May 2014


She could feel the black, the cracks and the pores on her skin through which the smoke was coming out. She could smell the fire that was engulfing her whole being, inch by inch, part by part. She could hear the laughter coming from the other room; the laughs were filling her soul and were coming out as her muffled screams. She closed her eyes as her whole life ran in front of her, from her loving childhood, to her marriage, to her monstrous husband and in-laws and a tear fell through her eye, just one tear drop as she spoke her last words.
“Mom, why did you send me back?”

File:Bonfire Flames.JPG

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


Saturday, 29 March 2014


Her brows are sweaty and she is licking her lips. She looks nervous I can sense it. She moves her hand in her hair and then slowly brings it down to her neck and adjusts her necklace. I ogle at her long slender neck with defined bones. I can’t take my eyes from it. I am in love again. Yes she is it. She will be my hundredth. How can I not take her? How do I let her go?

 I was tempted to cross the road, grab her in my arms, touch her soft face, slowly caress her neck and then break it, twist it, choke her till she stops breathing. Just the thought of that neck slowly dying in my hand is giving me a high that no drugs have ever given me. I start crossing the road, whistling to myself. I still can’t believe my luck of finding her alone in this deserted lane.

Suddenly a car stops in front of her and she hops in it too quickly. Even before I could blink the car starts moving.

I thought of running after it but then stop and smile. This has become more fun now. It was far too easy like this. There is no bigger rush than the chase of the prey. I write down the number of the car in my mobile and whistle loudly again.

“I hope you enjoy your last night sweetheart. I know I will”

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

Saturday, 1 March 2014


Hidden behind the wall I see a shadow of a man, a man I supposedly love. His hands are around her waist; almost embracing her whole body, caressing slowly, his mouth is hungrily feeding on her mouth with a hunger that I have never experienced with him. My husband of 6 years who once said he would die but touch any other woman, who rarely touched me anymore, is ravishing someone else and then suddenly they turn and I see her face. 

Tears roll down my cheeks and I yell in disbelief as I see my best friend, my life support in my husband’s arms. True to his word my husband has not touched any other woman; he is with "V", my friend, my best friend, my guy friend Vikas!

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

Friday, 25 October 2013

Her Dream Wedding?

Her hands are covered in henna
and her face is decorated with a shy smile
but her heart is disobeying her
She wants to be happy
She promised herself
It will be alright
It will be her fairytale night

Her wedding,
Like everyone said will be her re-birth
Her dreams
Like everyone said were just dirt
They why all of a sudden
She was unsure
They why all of a sudden
She didn’t feel happy anymore
Why after ages her heart was not with her
Then why all of a sudden 
everything was blur

She was asked to meet her taker
After he said yes
After she was informed
After it was officially announced to the world
But she couldn’t make herself go
May be she wanted to delay the future
May be she wanted it to remain a dreamy dream
Her refusal was appreciated
Her being coy was expected
She didn’t ask anything
No one told her anything
Not knowing is better
She thought to herself again and again

She survived the prying eyes of future relatives
She nodded at all right places as it was imperative
She cooked and she walked
She looked down and never talked
She did everything right
As right as the word right
As correct as the word correct

An Indian Bride. Photo: 

Then why all of  a sudden
She feels trapped
She feels choked
This is the eve of her fairytale wedding
Why even after people calling her outside
She couldn’t open the door
It was too late to do anything
Was it too late to do anything?
May be she can’t run away
If she goes out she will be forced into the marriage
But is there only one door to go out?
May be not
She closes her eyes and chooses the door
That will let her fly
That will let her be free

 This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. We give out themes for creative writing each weekend for Indian bloggers

Image credit here

Saturday, 10 August 2013

Lost and found

In your eyes
In your gaze
In your nights
In your days
I am lost and found

Hands in your hands
Each breath with your breath
Hooked to you
Look through you
In your touch
In your nudge
I am lost and found

Your words are my hunger
Your dreams my thirst
Your wonders are my wonders
Your arms my world
In your arms
In your dreams
In your wonders
And in your gleams
I am lost and found

Your journey my drive
Your life my life
Your music my jive
You win I survive
In your drives
In your Jives
In your loses
And in your strives
I am lost and found

I live with you
I die with you
I am alive in your life
I am dead in your deaths
I am as you as; you are
You are as me as; I am

We are lost and found in You and Me

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

Friday, 2 August 2013

Those were the best days of my life

Those were the best days of my life
Singing along with you; getting drenched in the rains
Yelling out loud and being insane
Splash of water; sprinkles of mud
Whistle of the Romeo and wink of the stud;
Who cared; who looked
We didn’t we were hooked
to the flight and to the daze
to the freedom; to the days;
The best days of my life

Yummy fritters and runny chai
Bite after bite and sigh after sigh
Making circles from the vapour
Making boats from the paper
Sitting at the stall for hours
Rechristening the stall as ours
Gaping at the roads; looking at the rains
Days spent at our adda
The best days of my life

Loud giggles at the boys;
Hidden snigger and the joys
Of white looks and paled faces
Shocked eyes and red gazes

Sprinting with you across town
Dancing with you like a clown
The Shoos and Shaas of aunties at the movies
Getting a lecture about being a girl and our duties
O how shameful you are a girl!
Showing them the tongue and taking a royal twirl
The carefree days beyond gender, age and hurls
The best days of my life

Running at you after each hiccup
Hiding behind you at each stickup
Crying on your shoulders over each mark
Picking up a fight for each remark
Against you, against me, against us
You being the calm one and me a big fuss
Holding your hands; tugging at your fingers
Memories of growing up.. still lingers
Etched in my heart forever and ever
Hoping to go back;
Hopping and going back
In those unforgettable days
Those were the best days of my life

(C) Juztamom 2013

Dedicated to my sweet sweet best friend. Wish you a happy friendship day.I wish I had better photographs of us together!!!

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