3 AM


It’s 3 AM and I am still awake.
It is not the first time and definitely not the last.
I was working and enjoying and helping.
All at once.

And now I am falling asleep.
So you see it’s not insomnia.
I am awake by choice
Rather in need.

It’s Ganesh Chaturthi and Ganpati ji is at my cousins place.
Supposedly we have to stay awake and give him company all day and all night
Since I had to do some of my magazine related work I volunteered to stay awake and here I am left alone.
I had a long nice chat with my cousins and it was fun.
I helped a friend prepare something for his work.
I finished my magazine work.
And now everyone is asleep.
I could wake one of my cousins up but they have been at it all day. They are tired and deserve a few hours of rest.

Let them enjoy the peace before the wind of exertion coming their way in the morning.

And I will pass my time in exploring stuff.
Just like this post. I posted this just to know how does it look like of you post a blog from your phone.

Good night world!



‘Suhana safar aur yeh mausam haseen’

suhana safar aur yeh mausam haseen

humein dar hai hum kho na jayein kahin

*in response to Daily Post*

What’s in a name?


My name is Suhani and this is the story of my name.

I am born and brought up in India, a nation where a kid is named several days after his/her birth.

The name keeping ceremony [Yes, it is a proper ceremony] includes a Pundit (read astrologer) reading your birth chart and identifying an initial that shall suit the child’s grahas (planets governing the child’s future).

Mine was S. After considering several options my Mama (maternal uncle) came up with my name – Suhani – meaning pleasant.

Where my father liked it in the first instance, my mother detested it. She thought it was weird to name her daughter Suhani as she had never heard this word ever being used as a name.

While my mother got used to my name and eventually got fond of it. I was facing issues at school 😐

Poor me. My parents had chosen such an uncommon name for me that everybody who heard it thought me being a kid I was just mispronouncing my own name and took it as Shivani – a very common name in India. When I was just getting used to people calling me Shivani at school, I realised in conversations amongst the elders at my house that my name was unique and had a really nice sound to it – Suhani…wow. This lead me to learn what my name actually meant.

A still from the song ‘suhana safar…’

So now the responsibility came unto me to correct everyone who pronounced my name wrong. I often used reference to the very popular song suhana safar (pleasant journey) and hence started my journey of falling in love with my name.

I not just did fall in love with the pleasantness of my name, I became proud of its uniqueness. On the day when a distant relative named their daughter Suhani after me – I was offended. I literally went up to her and asked “why did you keep her name Suhani? My name will become common!”

This was innocent anger; but I would lie if I said I wasn’t happy on the day I got to know that a Pundit had stated to her that the kid was getting sick over and over again because her name did not suit her, which lead to the change of name of the kid from Suhani to Shivani.

Shah Rukh with daughter Suhana and son Aryan

After a few more years – Shah Rukh Khan – the king of Bollywood, named his daughter Suhana. and that day was the end of uniqueness for me 😦 I hate it but today there are a lot of girls named Suhana/Suhani.

All this does not change the fact that I fell in love with my name and am still in love with it. Suhani has a certain ring to it that it brings a smile on the face of the person who takes the name. Just like its meaning it spreads pleasantness around. And it certainly does help keep negative thoughts at bay and keeps my positive.

I wish I would come up with such a pleasant name for my kid when its time. For now, I am content after naming one of my niece – Tiara (A jewelled ornamental band worn on the front of a woman’s hair)



Fresh cream!

*back from 13 June 2012*


In the creamy layers of life

There will be a time

Your sweet tooth becomes sour.

In this test of time

The cream now suffocates you.

The lumps

The lumps require to be removed.

The sugar should be separated

Kept away from house keeping

It is too precious to be messed up.

The sugar shall wait

Gradually understanding

They are not being ignored

Just being protected.


In this wait

You come to terms

Not with life

With what life has taught you.

The change in you

Accept. Ease in. Get comfortable.


The sugar shall still wait.

When you are positive

When you are confident

This was all for the best.

It is your job

Hug back the sugar in your life

Make fresh cream!

20100531-whipped cream-strawberry


*this one is from 20 February 2013*

Who am I?
That’s one secret I will never tell…

No one (trust me when I say that) knows who I really am. It is also true that I will never tell anybody who I really am. But secretly in my heart of hearts I wish that someone someday will understand who I really am. That is a day I am waiting to die for.

I know this sounds like crying for attention & it’s nothing like my usual blog posts. However, it is something that is coming directly from my mind. Strictly no heart involved.

How many times is it that your biggest turn off faces you right ahead & you can’t really do anything about it. Not that your mind freezes or you get physically paralysed. It is just that you suppress your anger & emotions to maintain your social standing. It is your mind calculating the opportunity cost & deciding it is not worth pursuing. So you let the dog bark.

For me the biggest turn off is hypocrisy. I hate it when people say something & their actions (previous, current or future) suggest differently. I fail to understand why can’t people say exactly what it is. Why is it that they have to play pretend?

Then I think about me saying things exactly as I think & exactly as they are. This is where the disconnect is. I am part of a bigger game called PRETEND where everybody pretends to be someone else & the others try to interpret their pretend to understand who they really are. Everybody around me is playing the game. It is just that since I do not know how to play the game I am just plainly simply myself that it confuses the people around me. They try to interpret me, come to a conclusion & then I do something that entirely blows up their conclusion. So now they have tagged me as a weird psychotic case. They are all ganging up to throw me off the game. Now here’s the catch – I don’t have to think & play pretend so I get time to observe. Since everybody around me is PRETENDING & their pretends seem to be motivated by similar accelerants I am able to figure out a lot of psyches. Me being me, I don’t take advantage of that of course but I do take pride in knowing what’s going behind other people’s head. At times I even relish in their misery – it’s my own form of revenge 😉

Yes, I did say revenge. After all I always say – I am an angel by heart & a devil by mind. That is just how my mind works.


AMISH – The Immortal Meluhan

*written on September 5 2012*

Well I have never written about a book before & I had never thought I will be blogging about an author that too an Indian one.

With the likes of Chetan Bhagat dominating the Indian writers field I had grown quite against Indian writers. So when I was offered to read the Immortals of Meluha I had been a little reluctant. Then I read the back cover. It was a fiction created around Shiva, our Lord Shiva. Now, I am a person who loves, respects & appreciates imagination and so this book caught my attention. I did take my time reading it though (with the Indian author thing hanging over my head).

I would love to say when I read this book, it nowhere gave me the impression of an Indian author. Amish is simply an author who has created a wonderful story around his favorite God (I like to believe Shiva is his favorite God). There is no slang. There is no wtf’s. In short there is no bullshit in the book. It is a very beautiful story with an even beautiful moral narrated in a very passionate manner.

AMISH you are an author to be looked out for. I am soon going to read your second book The Secret Of The Nagas & I hope you live up to my expectations.

Those of you who are from my generation of young minds who have watched the Ramayana, Mahabharata, Shiv Puraan and the likes enthusiastically in your childhood. You are firm believers in the concept of God, but are apprehensive about the absolute portrayal of God by your parents. This book is a must read for you. The Immortals of Meluha gives you a fresh perspective & soothes you by acknowledging the GREY. This book is not about the absolute WHITE or BLACK. It is about the GREY.

Happy Reading!


*today, 26 Aug 2013 – I still have not read the second book but I definitely will and after reading I will make it a point to blog about that as well*

The Prince & The Commoner

*written sometime in 2012*


He was a prince

She was a commoner

He had his arrogance

She had her preconceived notions

He was strong

She was fragile

They were both trapped

Trapped in the wrath of life

He had never been responsible

Now it was time to take up responsibility

Right when he wanted it not

She had always been responsible

Now it was time she was tired

Right when she wanted to give up

Bump into each other they did

Not like a fairy tale

Only by the wrath of life

He had to put together a face

She was to provide for that face

At the first glance

They admired each other

For they were both beautiful

He was like no prince

All shimmery & proper

He was like normal

All casual & messy

She was like no commoner

All courteous & obeying as he pleased

She was like a princess

All rough & demanding

Like he for her was only a commoner

Soon the admiration died

They were too different

From what they expected

It was only contradiction from then on

Debates polluted their conversation

To win over the other

was their only motive

Until one day …

… one day they were trapped

Not by the wrath of life this time

But by the wrath of Karma

Trapped under the same roof they were

Bombs – the heavy heavy bombarding

Kept them in each others company for two whole days

It was then that they saw

Saw each other

For who they really were

They were only frustrated souls

Life had been too easy for him

Only to drop a bomb

When he was least prepared

Life had been too hard for her

Never taking the weight off her shoulders

Specially after giving several hopes

they empathised with each other

That’s how the understanding began

This was not the end

Just the beginning

A beautiful story of understanding, friendship & love.



*this was written long back in 2007*

Elated! Oh I am
Doleful! Yeah I am
And all through I am LONESOME

No one to hug me
No one to slap me
No one to cheer me
No one to depress me
All my life I have been LONESOME

I enjoy by myself
I mourn with myself
I think
I imagine
I write
I live in my own world
All my life I have been LONESOME

No questions
No explanations
No responsibilities
No worries
I love my life ‘coz I’m meant to be LONESOME

I do whatever I want
I eat whatever I like
I sleep whenever I feel
I do not impress
I do not regret
No monotony
That’s my life, the life that I love
The life of a LONER

No one to hear me
No one to bear me
No one to share with
No one to fight with
I am my own companion
That’s my life, the life that I love
The life of a LONER

I criticise myself
I laugh at myself
I adore myself
I detest myself
No constraints in my life
Though I love to be lonely, I don’t want to be lonely ANYMORE

Hands to HOLD ME
Shoulders to CRY ON
Arms to DIE IN
I desire everything you enjoy and I don’t

I am a LONER
I shall remain a LONER
But I don’t wish to last a LONER

All my life I have been LONESOME
I love my life ‘coz I’m meant to be LONESOME
Though I love to be lonely, I don’t want to be lonely ANYMORE


India & it’s women

I am a reader and today I have been reading after a long time.

Sadly, I have been reading about women in my very own country India. Yes it is sad. Sad because even though I have lived in this beautiful nation all my life and have been well educated and have enjoyed my own share of freedom I still cannot refute the claims of the people who wrote those articles. I agree it happens; and it happens all around us.

Before I go and talk about the article I just read India: the Story You Never Wanted to Hear I would like to tell you that my love for reading lead to me and a few friends recently launch an online magazine [taleportmagazine.com] which in it’s very first issue has an article on Acid attacks which I myself will read it for the first time after I write this blog. I know that is a cruel statement to make about my own magazine but the underlying reason behind this is that I have nothing to do in the editorial department; I am more of a technical girl and handle the website part of things. This meant I did not have to read the article until it was supposed to be published online; which I somehow escaped for this article. The thing is reading about sexual harassment, rapes and gropings not only saddens me; it disturbs my inner peace.

So, now if I am disturbed by reading about such things how badly do these things effect the people whom they happen to is beyond me. But I am a strong woman and I promise myself this that just after finishing to write this I will read that article in our magazine taleportmagazine.com. It is important because even though I am just reading about it, I am also making my mind aware of such things. It will get ready to fight back as I do not like to escape. I would not lie and say that I have never escaped a situation, rather I have taken that route way too often and never liked it. I would like to change this and hence I need to be prepared for a fight.

Coming back to the article I just read – the story of an american girl who was in India for a semester on South Asian studies. She describes her experience as beautiful and horrible at the same time. She went through the traumas of two rape attempts in 48 hours. She was groped at, and masturbated at.

I am not surprised one bit at her experience as I myself have been a victim of some of these. The question here is why are women in India not respected?

No, I am not generalising Indian men as rapists or sexual predators. Let us be realistic here. How many men in India do you see treating women as their equals? None – They are superior in one way or the other. At times they physically abuse women, other times they do not have to listen to a single word a woman says but somehow a woman should be a slave of their word. [Keh diya na, bas keh diya] Some men do not let their women work, others who let their women work never want the woman to earn more than them or ever put in late hours at work which might be a regular feature for them – it hurts their ego otherwise. If men treated women as equals we would not need a special coach for us in the metro.

I apologise in advance to the religious sentiments that I am about to hurt. Here I would like to give reference to some of our religious incidents/books.

Even in the Ramayana – the great tale of the Maryadapurushotam Bhagwan Ram his beloved wife was exiled for life for something that never happened and He did NOTHING about it. And if I were to ask Him a question. So what if She was raped? Does that mean that She was at fault and not the man, Ravana? Does that mean that She was any less of a woman now? Why was it that she was exiled?

In the MahabharataDraupadi married Arjuna, then why was she the wife of all five Pandavas. She never asked for it, it was bestowed upon her.

In the Krishna gaathaSri Krishna goes ahead and marries 16000 slave girls in the name of saving them. Was marrying them necessary? If you say the situation around them was such that they weren’t safe unless married then it only highlights the fact I am going to put through.

Women in India have never been respected. They have only been worshipped in form of a mother. They have never been respected.

Unless we learn to respect women here in India – we can never hope of any better a situation than it already is at the moment.

If you respect a women show it – by providing for your mother in her old age and not throwing her leftovers; by letting your wife live her dreams like you live yours; by understanding your daughter and accepting her wishes when she says she is not ready for marriage or she wants to marry someone of her choice; by standing besides a woman on a street or a marketplace who is being groped at and fight for her if necessary.

I think I have written way too much for my first blog here on this wordpress site.

I will be posting some random pieces from my old blog here in the next few days…..as a part of migrating from blogger to wordpress.


random stuff that is not going on in my life

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