MIRROR OF MIND

Although I have received and rejected countless invitations to play Candy Crush Saga on Facebook, this one is irresistible! And, I promise you it's slightly different too. The one which I have a crush on, lately! I went to the Gulaab no Golo the other day. In Ahmedabad, it is a crazy sight to watch how people flock to these candy crushers and popsicle sellers to beat the heat. As soon as we reached, we encountered a common problem, that of parking. While we were straining our necks to find a suitable place, a security guard whistled and signed to move ahead to a vacant space. We did. Gulab no golo ,  a small lari serves ice dish of or golas of flavours you might have heard, but never had a chance to relish. As soon as we disembarked the car we saw 20 odd people standing in the queue alone... the crowd standing around the lari and already having their share of gola was of atleast of 75 to 80 people. I lost patience seeing the crowd. My little one was scandalised with all t...

Like a smoker can never quit smoking, a writer too, can never stay without writing. It's addictive! And so, here I am,after over three years, penning my thoughts... err keying-in my thoughts here. Had it been my diary, I would have fought the cobwebs to reach out to it kept in some dark corner of a book shelf. The dusty diary would have made me sneeze several times before I could actually open it and begin writing on those termite-eaten pages. But, nothing of that sort happened. Thanks to the advent of technology, my blog looked spic n span, just the way I had left it... three years ago! Life has undergone umpteen changes in these three years. It has been quite a transition from being a dedicated + dominating wife, to a dotting mamma, and am loving it! I have so much more to write about, to share, to express... with you. YOU. Who have been my constant support and inspiration for writing. YOU, who always encouraged me to resume my blog writing. YOU,who spoke those kind words t...

One place where a buzzing city comes to a halt is at a traffic signal. This is one place where people get time to witness a series of events, think, see, observe etc. This is one place where one stops… though for few moments and watches the city passing by. One Evening, while going back home from office, I was stopped by the blinking red light. Like others, I too took notice of various activities going around. One thing common between all traffic signals, apart from red, orange & green lights, is young kids asking for money; or to be precise – begging. This signal too, being in the heart of the city was no different. When everyone was in a rush to reach home after a long, busy day, these kids’ working hours had just begun during the peak traffic hours. While I was waiting for the signal to go green, one such kid came yawning near my Scooty. Barely eight years old, he was wearing a pair of shorts and a shabby t-shirt on a chilly, January evening. He was adamant on his demand for mon...

It was around 1pm, as I headed towards a restaurant for a family lunch. The occasion was Rakshabandhan. After parking the car on the opposite side of the restaurant, I started crossing the road. I was still half the way when I felt something tickling my feet. I stopped for a moment and started flipping my saree from left to right. Before I could realise that I was doing this awkward act in the middle of the road, a tiny grey thing quickly hurled and took a shelter near the road divider. Oh! It was a baby squirrel; caught on the wrong side of the road, trapped in the busy traffic. Though it was a baby, it was quick, restless and clever, just like its adult counterpart. It cleverly tried to climb the divider, but unfortunately the sides were too high to climb for this tiny creature. The poor thing was almost stuck in the hustle-bustle of the traffic. And I just could not leave that cute little creature all by itself. Before it could run away, I carefully caught it in my hand. I waved my ...

If you are a woman and happen to see a series of hoardings screaming 'SALE' or '% Discount', on every cross-road of the city, I bet you can't ignore it. And believe me, I am no different. I don't know about rains, but sale is definitely raining cats and dogs in Ahmedabad. Crossing umpteen similar hoardings on my way to office, the conscience of a shopaholic, only grew stronger. Even during hectic work, images of 'upto 70%' and 'Flat 50%' flashed in my mind. In this situation of crisis, colleagues always come to rescue. Thanks to like-minded colleagues, they accompanied me to a shopping spree, as they too were going through anxiety about the entire 'sale' hoopla. We explored many retail chains and malls. At one place, only a small section in a huge store offered discount, while in the other store, though they promised discount upto 50%, what they offered on various clothing lines and accessories was not even half of it. Slowly we realised...

It was yet another boring day at office. After completing my quota of work, I decided to entertain myself with some 'breaking news' or 'gossip columns'. No sooner I clicked on one of the news sites, second to the most important breaking news read: Top model Viveka Babajee commits suicide at her Bandra flat. I was stunned. And shocked. The name rang a bell not just once but many times. Looking at her picture cleared all the doubts – I had seen her, met her and conversed with her over a glass of fruit punch. I go in the rewind mode It is 30th October, 2007. I have completed one month as a trainee journalist with DNA Newspaper; but the newspaper is yet to launch in Ahmedabad and it is going to launch tomorrow – 1st November, 2007. I am all excited for two reasons: For successfully completing one month at work in a city which is totally new to me, and secondly for the launch of DNA. The icing on the cake is when I am given this assignment to cover the inauguration of a high...

If you happen to pass through The Gujarat University in Ahmedabad, you cannot miss the sight of an old, rickety table, loaded with books. One evening, when I was on my way home from office, I came across this banner which read 'Patel Typewriting'. As I was on my two-wheeler, I slowed down a bit and on a closer look, I found a sexagenarian hidden behind the tall towers of books, sitting with a black machine. “Looks familiar,” I thought. Ah! It's a typewriter (I saw it nearly after a decade). And immediately my mind slipped into flashback. Going down the memory lane, to my 10th grade, TYPE was considered an easy and scoring subsidiary subject. Naturally, I chose an the easier one for me – Type. Then was the time when 'Type Classes' raked in moolah by taking up space in every nook and corner of the city. I could hear the 'thak thak' of the type bars, the moment I parked my vehicle in the parking area of Vijay Typewriting Institute, where I went for my c...