Savage Life

they met, they loved 

they parted, they cried

they met again, they smiled,  

they were one, a whole again…


there was magic in the air, 

the tender hand on her hair…. 

time went by,

life was a blur

of hugs and promises

smiles and stolen kisses….


yet there came a day 

when he did pull away!

 savage his words

I no longer feel love

savage his action 

of final retraction 

savage his love

forgetting his vow

savage his heart 

tears hers apart

Savage is love,

Savage is life !


In response to Daily Prompt :


Sunshine to Stardust


was when…..

she forgot her kith and  kin

she forgot all she believed in

all she remembered was impossible love

her need to make him see the heavens above. 


her time , her life, her duties, her promises

her responsibilities all could burn to ashes 

all she cared was for the deep happy voice

the chuckle in his throat was now her choice


Continue reading


Was there an unknown empty space inside me

Was I  Incomplete before  you and me became “We”?

Are you the  long lost other half of a whole

Was I Incomplete before my heart, you stole 

Continue reading


She woke up that day with a song in her heart. She was going home!! Being at Medical school was great, but this was her first trip back home! Yayy! Tone deaf, she happily hummed a new popular ditty as she packed her bag.

She joined the equally excited bunch of girls in the hostel lobby and they made their way to the railway station.  The  group of ” boys ” from their batch joined them there.  No one had even thought of reservations and all of  them happily entered the unreserved compartment. The slatted seats were anything but comfortable but the exuberance of youth shielded them from any such discomfort. Seeing them, they could have well been in Executive Class aboard a luxury liner! Continue reading


Proud of You, Amma

The day a child is born , so is a mother… Being  the eldest child, this is doubly true, I guess, for my mother, who I call Amma.  A mother is your first teacher,  your first refuge, your eternal panacea for all troubles whether you are a one year ‘old’ infant or a 50 year ‘young’ woman. There exists an extra special bond between daughters and mothers which intensifies the day the daughter becomes a mother. An obstetrician by profession, I have lost count of the number of times I have witnessed the miracle of birth yet the novelty never wears thin.

My mother, a “simple homemaker” by definition, was and is easily one of the earliest and strongest influences of my life.  She inspired, coaxed and at times, literally dinned into us, her 3 daughters, the singular importance of being independent and self-reliant in the truest sense of the word.  That we were  “girls” never dimmed that determination even the slightest. I remember once on hearing  that she had 3 daughters, a lady at a local club get together remarked ” Oh I am so sorry!” Pat came my mothers reply… “Why? I am not!! In fact I am proud! ” She would go on to instill in us the courage to follow our dreams, never believe that there was anything that we could not do because we were ” girls”. The fact that we belong to a matriarchal society may also have helped.  The fact that we spent our childhood in Idyllic Goa also did.  Gladly supported by my father, we were allowed  tremendous freedom of choice and were vested with the power to choose from  a very young age. This manifested in me at a very early age when I refused to repeat a class because I was too young to be promoted to the next despite having topped that class.( Class I )

 Breathtakingly beautiful, Amma was a head turner in her youth.  She was an intelligent sincere and a good student but her formal education was cut short by her fathers untimely demise, when she was barely 14 yrs. Not a person to let obstacles become obstacles to her dreams, she resorted to home tuition and self-study to become proficient in Hindi soon after her studies. Married at a young age to my father, she retained her spark and individuality even  while she toiled tirelessly for the family and provided an emotional anchor to my father all through their marriage. She managed our farm in the village and her managerial skills on display  prompted one of my friends to remark that she was ideal Corporate honcho material!! An avid reader and a staunch movie buff, she enjoyed whatever life had to offer at each point in her life. 



A young “me” in my gorgeous mothers lap. Also seen is my father to my left


Amma, her 3 daughters and her grandchildren in 1995

The  care and support continued through my early years as a mother as I , by then a young doctor in the armed forces, struggled to balance a demanding career, marriage and kids. When I had to make a choice of a subject for PG, she supported me in the best way possible by spending valuable time with me and my son. Her immense strength and love was evident when she came to my  duty station  the day the last rites of my father was completed and yet never disclosed to me the fact that my father was no more as I was going through a complicated pregnancy. She even went to the extent of wearing the Taali ( a mangal sutra/mark of a married woman)  till I was finally told the truth on the 15th postnatal day. Hats off to her especially as my father’s death at 61 was a sudden unexpected and devastating event for my mother who was barely 52 then.  I sometimes wonder whether  I would be ever be able to do that.


It has not always been hunky dory. Being strong-willed and independent women, we have our differences of opinion, disagreements and discussions, but the underlying bond has only grown stronger and stronger over the years. To date we still talk for hours on end… sometimes over the phone, sometimes in person.  She is an integral part of my life even today and I like to think that I am a part of hers too.

She turned 75 last week and as per her wishes we celebrated it in Guruvayoor a temple town of Kerala. My sisters and my entire family made it a point to be there and it was a joyful occasion indeed. We sisters  had  initially made a plan of celebrating it as an event  attended by close family and friends but finally gave in to her wishes.



The family gets together on her 75th bday

 I’d published this post way back in 2013….. the feelings remain unchanged …. she still  continues to  be an inspiration – you don’t have to always  burn your bras to prove that you are a thinking, independent, woman with a mind of your own……  Salute!!

I believe every woman has TRUE BEAUTY within her in all the roles she plays. For over 18 years across 650 plus salons across the country, Naturals has been helping the Beautiful Indian Woman get more Beautiful.

Today Naturals Salutes the Beautiful Indian Woman.

Presenting Naturals TRUE BEAUTY… 

Across the Rainbow Bridge

She came into our lives as a little bundle of fur.  Barely a month old, she stole our hearts forever. My Brother in Law found her for us and we fell in love with her. My children grew up with her. She was just a few months older than my daughter.

Minnie was the the most affectionate souls I have ever met. And yes she was  a gentle soul . My son was as attached to her anyone could ever be and a refuge when he was troubled. She would know when any one of us were feeling low and her simple presence was enough to make us feel comforted and yes, loved. Whether it was Rajiv me or our kids. Continue reading

Burnished to Tarnished

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “An Extreme Tale.”

“It was the Best of Times , It was the worst of times”

She, who was once Burnished Gold,

Today let her own sad story be told

Let tears, her eyes no longer can hold

Tell their story of love’s pain untold.


 The girl, she met her soul mate

 Together they defied all of fate.

 That kept them for eons, from the other, apart

Yes! They felt – they were never meant to part!


The love story over, her dear hero remembered a pledge

Made to another maiden, driving her now to the very edge !!

Alas! The gold that glittered and was ever Burnished

Now  looked dull and dark, sad and foreverTarnished !


The  very best of times and the very worst of times

Are for some unlucky souls, the very same times !

waiting girl

If Tomorrow comes

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Under the Snow.”

You were caught in an avalanche. To be rescued, you need to make it through the night. What thought(s) would give you the strength to go through such a scary, dangerous situation?

As on my cold and freezing bed I lie

My life flashes before my inward eye

I see me in a cozy house waving bye

To my mom as off to my school I fly

My sisters, my first best friends, and I 

Weaving together, a colored tapestry.

Continue reading

Things We leave Behind- Salad Days

Things we leave Behind- Salad Days

As I sat before my laptop several visuals from the past  flashed before my mind’s eye as I harked back to my college days …these, then are a few of my favorite “salad days”….which I revisited…CMC

     The day I started Medical school, stars in my eyes, looking forward to living a seemingly unattainable dream…

All of us – small stars or even suns in our own small worlds – were now forming a constellation. A constellation that would last a lifetime, though we were unaware of that , then. 

The struggle on the first day with wearing sarees (an Indian attire which was a dress code on the campus) with most of us wearing it for the first time… tentative looks into the mirror and towards each other for assurance…looks repeated in classrooms and labs,  as we battled the new words and meanings.


      The clinics and the classes… as we saw each new symptom and sign we learnt, they found an echo in us and ours,  as cadavers gave way to patients, teaching us the secrets of illnesses and cures.

    The hallways of the college, the wards and the classrooms, the scarred desks, the proxy attendances, the back benchers and the front benchers, the heavy books, the tests and exams and vivas and results.

   The first brush with failures, something that most of us in our young lives, till then had never encountered, making us realise that success should never be taken for granted. 


    Friends, ever ready for innocent fun, be it shopping, movies, seeing off someone or a treat for scoring a distinction – any reason was good enough for a trip to ” town”, mostly in  creaky crowded buses, which none  of us seemed to even notice. 

The evening trips to the local College Canteen, Indian Coffee House….  dressed in starched n freshly ironed sarees… ending in an unacknowledged but unmistakable race to catch a seat facing the door- my best friend was the best at this.

 The heartbreaks and heartaches… sometimes  lending a shoulder… sometimes looking for one…

 Taking to the streets to make our voices heard…leaving our fears and apprehensions behind.

The slogans we shouted, the placards we held, the police we braved – all with a passion that only youth can bring.  

All for justice for a grievously wronged student, ready to face the wrath of the powers that be.

 The undulating campus dotted with spots and names that make sense only to the CMCites ..The Horizon, The Fisheries,  The Coffee house, The Golden Dragon, The Clock tower,  The Library…the list goes on  and on.

 The trips back home made in the earliest train out of town in happy little groups .. none of us had ever heard of reservations or  even sleeper coaches .. as the wooden slats of the unreserved coach served as the most comfortable seats to chat the night away … as minds met and forged  friendships  that  remain with me to this day… as  animated discussions on any topic under the sun let the night run away –  we even wished on some occasions that the train get late.. but it never did!!

The late night life-changing discussions … the sharing of  thoughts words and views shared  seamlessly as we connected and reconnected over cups of stale tea and coffee…

Friends… some “just friends” .. some “good friends”….. some “best friends”…

The college Youth Festivals.. the Inter Medicos… the plays and dances …the Sports days and friendly Cricket matches.. the film Festivals .. the new age “high thinkers” on the campus…

Friendships that lasted sometimes for a season …sometimes for a lifetime… but always for a reason they touched our souls.. and we were never the same again ….somewhere in each of us they live on.. as we do in them….

The smiles and tears, the stolen glances and shy smiles…the hookups and the break ups.

 Memories….. words tumbling out……but let me stop… they are but memories …from  another  time… another day…..Our Salad Days……

Most of the wonderful bunch of starry eyed kids from the Silver Jubilee batch are now celebrating Golden jubilees of their own existence. 

 So it is that we look forward to reunions

Look forward to revisiting these Salad Days

Salads  that look so appetizing… so wholesome…. so nutritious…

Salads that are manna for the soul…


Key to A Heart

An old post recycled…..will be back later


Today’s prompt: Secret

GOLDEN KEY : You’ve been given a key that can open one building, room, locker, or box to which you don’t normally have access. How do you use it, and why?


Have been thinking and thinking,

Cannot think of a single thing

As the DP suggests, I want to open best 

WordPress may joke may say it  in jest!

If any building, room, box or any locker

Has a treasure not meant for my rocker

I want no part of it , so goes my own ditty ,

I have no want for any more in my kitty!

Now wait – if the key opened a troubled mind

Or a beautiful heart – Ah That, I would call a find !!

No diamonds, no rubies, no silver or gold 

The wonder or joy for me, can ever hold,

That comes with lifetime friendships

With real, honest n deep relationships .

So, give me a key that I may unlock your mind

Such a key would I call “golden” and ever bind!