Some Songs and Stories!

I am writing this listening to a few of my favourite songs and, this writeup will go according to the song mood and what I feel while listening to it.
I am a fan of old Hindi songs as my parents listen to it every day and I eventually got used to it and started loving it.

Being a love child of my parents and growing up listening and watching love stories, I do believe in fairytales. I have realised that the real world doesn’t function that way, there are heartbreaks, there is unfaithfulness, there are sorrow and grief, but I still cannot stop myself from thinking and dreaming of my fairytale ending, about the time when I post a picture on Instagram with the caption, “Happily ever after”. All this might sound stupid or crazy to many people reading this but, that is how I want my love story to be, a few adventures, few light moments, silly fights! I want people to gossip about my love life and share stories about it. I am a bit(I think so) filmi.

I love my hair a lot I always wanted to try new things like a new haircut and coloring. My parents never let my hair grow until I revolted literally revolted and said ENOUGH. I always had this veg cut, where the salon aunty would trim my hair and sometimes when I would wear pants and a shirt, people confused me for a boy! But now, I have lengthy, dark and voluminous hair! *Drusti removing*. I flip my hair often I almost sprained my neck trying to get a perfect picture of my hair flip. One day I want to flaunt a black saree with metal jewelry and, I want my hair to grab all the attention.

Everybody has crushes right, I did have one! There was this guy who, I have no clue about. We used to travel on the same bus in the mornings every day, I don’t even know why I had a crush on him. Maybe it was just that teenage hormones or, that I grew up in a girls convent and having guy friends around was not so common. So he used to take the same bus, my friends and I would just look at him every five minutes then get down at our stop and act as nothing happened. It was like khel katam, natak bandh feels. Also, I have no idea if he even knows that species like my friends and I exist.

Letters! Handwritten letters are what I would die for, the idea of expressing your feelings and emotions in words, especially in the form of handwritten letters. I consider it more special because people put efforts into writing. After all, we get conscious about the sentences if they mean as same as our thoughts, handwriting if the other person would like it or understand it. I always wanted to write letters and send it to random addresses and wait for the replies. I will do it for sure!

Filter Kaapi to Mocha Kaffe

As I was waiting at the airport, I got a call from my mom asking me to come back. I wanted to run back home but I decided not to give up. I knew everything would drastically change the very next minute I board the flight.

I never traveled alone, never in an airplane. I did not try that Mexican food I wanted at the restaurant in my city, I did not enter the café that looked so bright and noisy, I did not take those extra classes as I knew none there. I never dared to do anything out of my way.
The first time at the airport and the first flight ever, nobody I knew was there beside me to hold my hand and tell me to relax as the flight took off. I shivered and was scared as hell as I chanted Hanuman Chalisa. I did it. I reached an unknown country that I have to live in. I knew none, not the language or food or anything. The roads did not take me home, it did not lead to my favorite park, not to the restaurant I loved or anywhere I knew. It was a challenge for me. Everything isn’t our cup of coffee, but it is worth tasting! Spit it out if it’s yuck.

The initial days were hard, I wanted to give up everything and run back home. This city was beautiful yet it was not home. I called my mom every day for the first 2 weeks, I cried and cried and cried until my dad called me back and asked me to come back if I wanted to. That is when I realized what I had and what I got. I had super supportive parents and everything that I had dreamt of. I wanted to give a chance to all the efforts I had put to the past one effing year. I made some friends, a few of my dear classmates told me not to worry as I was 30 days, yes, 30 days late to my classes. The Visa process sucks in Mumbai. I enjoyed the classes, the subject was fascinating. I started going around the city, exploring it, slowly but I finally did.

Homesickness was still an issue, I never stayed away from my parents for more than a month, I broke down very often, I could not let my fears out as I trusted none. It was not easy yet it was all that I never wanted to give up on. I had never tried cooking anything except Maggi, but now I cook bassaru to badusha to make my tummy feel good. I was pissed off when I knew I could not drink filter coffee here, the first time I tasted mocha, I spat it and today I am searching for a good mocha coffee maker. I considered drinking alcohol was not good, ew not anymore! From wine to beer as it kept me away from the cold to just relax and sleep. I understood it is not bad if you do not overdo it. Many things as such, which I believed in was not all right.

One year to all the crazy things I decided to do and a few that I actually did. It was all worth it. To the scared as hell to it is all in your head, I am coming out of my fears and comfort zone. It is not easy but it is all that I want now. This place is starting to feel like home.


22 June 2015

Everything was new. Home, people, lanes, buses, environment and the city. First day of college, feelings of a girl who lost her way yet having desires in heart. Back at Bengaluru, 14 years I was into an all girl’s institution Cluny, where I didn’t come across or had to make a BOY as a friend. Boys for me were like zombies.

Straight into the gate and the building, I found my way to the Geology department after half an hour of being a maze runner. Less than an hour in the campus I was into a classroom full of zombies, I realized I would be spending the rest of the three years in a class where boys were a majority. This made me regret. I was confused, tensed, scared. I still don’t know what exactly I felt at that moment.

Classes began. Conscious in every act, while introducing myself, sitting, standing, walking and what not! I made a few friends (only grulss), after few months I made friends with the zombies of my class. Everything started to make peace. I became less conscious.

First year! New place, new subjects, teachers alla lecturers, studying daily to alternative days to once a week to only when required, internals, records, few blunders, exams and done.

Second year! Friends, bunking one class/day, canteen, movies, trips, skipping first internals, records, assignments, fights, few more blunders, exams and done.

Final year! Friends and friends, attending one class/day, movies, trips, skipping internals, projects, assignments, average kodi, records, fights, a few more blunders, exams and done. Finally done!

Three years wasn’t easy. It was like a cake walk but the cake was fresh at the beginning, later slippery, the sweetness choked and it went dry. The journey was beautiful with all the ups and downs, turns and swings. Introduction to reality and realization of self worth. No regrets for choosing Mysuru, no regrets for choosing geology, no regrets for being in a class full of zombies.

I miss Bengaluru was constant. Bengaluru was my home, Mysuru gave me another one!


17 May 2015, 11:45 pm
Heart beats faster than the local tamte beats, sleepless, scared, anxious and lot of mixed emotions of the next day board results.
18 May 2015 10:00 am
Amma was washing vessels(Indian alarm) which woke me up, I don’t know when I fell asleep. Amma, Appa, Ajji, Thata, Atte & Mava avr maklu and entire clan had one question.

Result yavaga? (At what time are the results out?)

Zoom channel was my usual choice but I changed to TV9 to know about the time of results. The news reader in terrifying tone said, “PUC makala bhavishya indu erd gantege bayalu”.
Biting nails, sessions of crying, saying no to food but had it later and finally around two, I turned on the computer and entered my register number while humming all the sholkas I knew. The results were finally out! SERVER DOWN! I tried and tried, by the time my results were displayed my eyes had tears and chrome had 15 tabs opened. And finally results were out! It was satisfactory(Gwad! Duraase was pouring in) I had scored a century in computer science(the subject I had least interest in) .
Amma, Appa, Ajji, Thatha and entire clan was happy. I was too.
Then came the next question.

Next enu? (What do you want to do next?)

Engineering and medical wasn’t my cup of tea, coffee or anything. I googled and after asking tons of suggestions from everyone elder to me led to interest in geology and finally into Bachelor of Science in Chemistry, Geology and Environmental science (Thank god and Mysuru university for providing a combination without mathematics or computer science).
This time question was mine, next enu, as I had to get a nod to move from Bengaluru to Mysuru, which I knew was next to impossible as they wouldn’t let me go alone(Oble magalu You See!) .
Last few days of admissions left, Appa Amma agreed and the application was sent to Yuvaraja’s College. Few days later I had to attend counselling.
Chamundi express, fights with auto driver as he overcharged us. Scared again because I had no plan B if I was rejected a seat.
Principal’s chamber, He asked, “why CGEn?”(Chemistry, Geology and Environmental science), I replied, “I am interested in Geology ” but mentally I knew that I was more interested in studying a combination without mathematics. He warningly replied,”Your the first student to take up this combination”. I did not react.
Seat was confirmed, but my family had to agree to send me to Mysuru. Sigh*.
After sessions of yes, no, not necessary, don’t go and finally to all the best, stay safe and come back, all agreed but I didn’t go alone. Appa Amma came along.
College started the next day I came to Mysuru. Scared again. Uff.
A new journey began with hopes, dreams and responsibilities.

ಅಜ್ಜಿಯ ನೆನಪುಗಳು!

ನಾ ಅಜ್ಜಿಯನ್ನು ಅವ್ವಯಂದೆ ಕರೆಯುತ್ತಿದೆ. ಅವಳು ದಪ್ಪವಿದ್ದ ಕಾರಣ ಬೋಂಡುಸ್ (ಬೋಂಡ) ಎಂದು ರೇಗಿಸುತ್ತಿದೆ. ಭಾನುವಾರ ಬಂತೆಂದರೆ ಅದೇನೋ ಖುಷಿ, ಎಲ್ಲರಿಗೂ ನಾನು ಬೋಂಡುಸ್ ಅವ್ವ ಮನೆಗೆ ಹೋಗ್ತೀನಿ ಅಂತ ಹೇಳಿಕೊಂಡು ತಿರುಗುತ್ತಿದೆ.

ಬೆಳಿಗ್ಗೆ ಎದ್ದ ಕೂಡಲೇ, “ಅಮ್ಮ ನಾ ಅವ್ವ ಮನೆಗ್ ಹೋಗ್ತೀನಿ” ಅಂತ ಒಂದೇ ಸಮನೆ ಜಪ ಮಾಡ್ತಿದ್ದೆ. ಅವ್ವ ಮನೆಗೆ ಹೋದ ತಕ್ಷಣ ಅವಳು ಅಕ್ಕಿ ರೊಟ್ಟಿ, ಚಟ್ನಿ ಪುಡಿ, ಮೊಸರು ಬಡಿಸಿ ತಲೆ ಸವರಿ ತಿನಿಸುತ್ತಿದಳು. ಒಂದು ವಾರದ ಶಾಲೆಯ ಕಥೆಯಲ್ಲ ಕೇಳುತ್ತಿದ್ದಳು. ನಾನು ಇಂಗ್ಲಿಷ್ ಅಲ್ಲಿ ಟಸುಪುಸಂದ್ರು ಎಲ್ಲಾ ಅರ್ಥವಾಗುವ ಹಾಗೆ ಕೇಳುತ್ತಿದ್ದಳು. ನನಗೆ ತುಂಬ ಇಷ್ಟವಾದ ನುಚ್ಚಕ್ಕಿ ಅನ್ನ ಸಾರು ಮಾಡಿಕೊಡೊಳು. ಮಧ್ಯಾಹ್ನ ಅನ್ನ ಸಾರು, ಮೊಸರನ್ನ ಕಲಸಿ, ಕೈ ತುತ್ತು ಹಾಕಿ, ಕಥೆ ಹೇಳುತ್ತಾ ಮಲಗಿಸೊಳು ಅವ್ವ. ಸಂಜೆ ಎದ್ದ ಕೂಡಲೇ ಮುಖ ತೊಳೆದು, ಕೂದಲು ಬಾಚಿ, ತಿನ್ನೋಕೆ ಮಾಡಿದ ಚಕ್ಕುಲಿ, ನಿಪ್ಪಟ್ಟು ಕೊಟ್ಟು ಮುದ್ದು ಮಾಡೋಳು. ಅಷ್ಟೊತಿಗೆ ಅವಳ ಮುಖ ಸಪ್ಪೆಯಾಗಿರುತ್ತಿತು. ನಾನು ಮತ್ತೆ ಮುಂದಿನ ಭಾನುವಾರ ಬರುವೆ ಎಂದು ಹೇಳಿ, ಅವಳು ಕೊಟ್ಟ ನೂರರ ನೋಟನ್ನು ಬೇಡ ಅನ್ನದೆ ತೆಗೆದುಕೊಂಡು ಹೋಗುತ್ತಿದೆ.

ಈಗ, ಬೋಂಡುಸ್ ಮನೆಗೆ ಹೋದರು ಅವಳಿಲ್ಲಾ, ಅವಳ ಕೈ ತುತ್ತು ಮತ್ತೆ ಎಂದು ನನಗೆ ಸಿಗುವುದಿಲ್ಲ, ನನ್ನ ಕಾಲೇಜಿನ ಕಥೆ ಕನ್ನಡದಲ್ಲೇ ಹೇಳಿದರು ಕೇಳಲು ಅವಳಿಲ್ಲಾ, ಅವಳು ಕೊಟ್ಟ ಕೊನೆಯ ನೂರರ ನೋಟು ನನ್ನ ಬಳಿ ಇಲ್ಲ, ನಾ ಕಾಯುತ್ತಿದ್ದ ಭಾನುವಾರ ಮತ್ತೆ ಬಾರದು.

ಕಲ್ಪನೆಯ ಕಥೆ ಹೇಳುತ್ತಿದ್ದ ಅವಳೆ ಕಲ್ಪನೆಯಾಗಿ ಉಳಿದಳು ನನ್ನ ಬೋಂಡುಸ್.

ಆ ದಿನಗಳು – Those Days !

Wake up it is 7:00 shouts my mom. She pushes me into the bathroom, forces me to brush and finish morning chores. She dresses me, combs my hair the way she wants and then I am in the school bus waving at her.

Back home after school, I freshen up and wear the yellow skirt and blue T-shirt my mom had put on my bed, without uttering a word I wear those and off I go to play. Calling out friends, a group of 8-10 kids join and play a number of games until our parents shout for us to get back home. If we don’t, a stare from her would work wonders.

Homework was done in time, studies done. Was allowed to watch TV (only cartoons) only after homework. After TV, I was into bed.

Sunday’s were fundays, I was taken to barber shop to get a haircut, a bowl on the head and trim on the sides and done. Oiled hair was not a problem then. Afternoon nap and lots of games in the evening and sunday was spent well.

All this was done with no complaints, no arguments or any explanations given by parents.

As a teenager, I got the freedom of choosing my clothes (but the final nod would be my mom’s), same happened with haircuts, threading was like paaap till I was 18, around 15 is when we realized what a crush was and that a kiss wouldn’t make a girl pregnant.

I still remember, during 10th class, while playing truth or dare with friends, one of the girl asked me, “Who’s your crush”, with zero idea what it was, my bestfriend and I shared clueless glances and when we finally understood what a crush was we were giving out random names just for the sake of answering.

We used cuss words such as.. Oops I still can’t tell those out ( swalpa bhaya), the f-word, b-word etc only with the bestfriends. We were introduced with those words only when we were around 16/17. If anyone around us spoke those words loudly, glances and comments were passed.

We knew no technology, we wrote notes by ourselves, we understood various laws and reactions through imaginations, we heard stories from our grandparents, on a ride we asked a hundred questions looking outside the window, we wondered if the moon was following us, we had talks with our parents, our friends and ourselves.

We understood love in its purest form, unadulterated and innocent.

Those were the days we were connected to each other by emotions rather than social media. We knew their struggles than only their fake social media happiness.

We shared stories, we shared lives.
We lived our life the way it had to be lived.

Unfulfilled Dreams and Zero Regrets!

Aerounautical engineering, printed in bold letters on the cover page of the teenager today magazine (book which was talk of the town among teens). The first time I came across an engineering stream other than computer science, Civil and Royal mech. Reading the article, my interest grew over aerospace engineering, development of aircraft and spacecraft. Unfortunately mathematics being a bane of my marksheet, became a huge drawback for my aeronautical dream’s takeoff, and the idea bhad mei gayi!

I was up to par in sketching, painting or being creative, my next jump in career option was fine arts, which I strongly believed that I wouldn’t have to deal with macabre mathematics or consume the deadly physics potion. When I revealed this sketch to my parents, they had a we-will-throw-you-out-but-wont kind of look. They wanted time to think about it, as I child who was not allowed to do adhika prasanga, agreed to give them time, a little more time and more than what is called a little time.
They straight away said NO to fine arts and gave reasons as it would be difficult in finding a job and settling down and many more #metoo kind of reasons. Uff parents!

The best thing I did later, I stopped thinking. I patiently completed my 12th with no idea of what I would do next. One needs guts to have zero ideas on what to do after 12th.
Never worry about the future was my quote of the year!

So, to tell in my local langauge I had full meetru.

PS: I am also living with a bunch of unfulfilled dreams but with no regrets.

Two Little Feet

Maths mid-term exam!

I knew I was going to flunk in it and came out of the exam hall disappointed.

My dad was waiting for me, he said “Priya gave birth to a baby boy”.

I was happy and wanted to see the baby right away.

The next day when I saw the baby at the hospital, my thoughts were!

Where are his eyes! He’s so tiny! Why is he wrapped like a sushi!

After a few days, when the baby came home, I saw the baby opening it’s tiny little sparkling eyes! The smell of the left over amniotic fluid or vernix caseosa was so comforting! The loud cries the baby started and we didn’t know for why it was at the beginning!

Every stage of the progress of the baby was beautiful!

Then, the baby started to crawl and utter a few broken words, cute laughs at everything and nothing funny!

I was the youngest in the house until the baby arrived. I had heard stories that everyone will be into the baby and that I would be sidelined. I had those thoughts before the baby’s birth.

But, once the baby came I wasn’t jealous, I never felt left out or sidelined. In fact, I grew possessive about the baby. I was not ready to send the baby back home. I was not okay with other people carrying the baby (not even the idea of others coming and visit us to see the baby). I use to hate when children of my age came to play with the baby. I loved him as I would love my brother. He was the center of my world. I would get back home from school and the first thing I wanted to do was play with the baby. He was precious, he was everything.

Years passed, he is 8 now!

I hope, one day when he grows into an adult and reads this, he will know that how much his sister loved him and why he is given the special place!

I love you ATHARVA.

For me, you are and will be the baby whom I held on 22nd of december 2010.


A few days back I was waiting for my dad at the bus stop and was on a call with my best friend ( Timepass madake she’s the bestuu).

As we were talking I got a call from my dad and me without even telling that to my bestfriend, I put her call on hold! ( Everything is fair in ‘best’ friendship).

After I spoke to my dad, I got back to my bestfriend’s call ( Talme inda wait madtidlu).

Me : sorry babe, dad had called!

My Bf ( Bf: bestfriend! Apartha madkobedi) : What! What is his problem?

And we both started laughing!

After the call, I was wondering would I react the same if anybody else had replied the way my bestfriend did! Would anybody dare talking like that about anybody’s father!

That’s the equation we have with the special one. We understand their sarcasm, wit, humour and every emotion in that human. We tend to laugh off even if they offend us or our dear ones because we would be doing the same at the other end.

Lucky are those who find such insane piece of shit ( my bestfriend isn’t offended ) .

I promise to screw, insult, offend, abuse my bestfriend through all the stages of her life. ( Hakk hai yaar!).


Amma : Padmalakshmi wake up..

Padma : Amma(mother) don’t call me with that name. It is so old fashioned, why didn’t you choose a better name for me?

Amma : There is nothing wrong in your name.

Padma : There is a problem! People make fun of it at college, they call me peddalakshmi, pedamma and what not 🙄

Amma : Don’t worry about that and be proud of what your name is and what you are.

Padma : Proud? Of this name? Amma please…

Padma goes back to her room complaining about her name..

Amma thinks about this conversation and decides over something.

After a few days.

An old red oxide floored house with meshed windows, Amma knocks at the door and an old woman in her 80’s opens the door and smiles so widely that Padma anxiously looks at her denture.

They enter, the old woman offers filter coffee and benne chakli, Padma loves the taste. They talk for a while.

Later, Padma and the woman goes to the garden. Padma starts to pluck the flowers for evening pooja while listening to the stories said by the old woman.

Amma : Lunch is ready.

After lunch they leave and as they leave Padma questions the old lady…

Padma : Ajji(Grandma), do you stay alone here?

Ajji : Yes child.

Padma : Don’t you have anyone to take care of you? How do you manage?

Ajji : I can manage child. I am used to it.

Amma tells Padma that it’s time to leave and Padma tells Ajji that she will come back again.

Back at home.

Padma : I feel sad for Ajji.

Amma : Don’t worry Padma.

Padma : Amma but how do you know her? I haven’t seen her or met her before…

Amma : I know her from a long time.

Padma : Doesn’t she have anyone? What about her family?

Amma : She had one.

Padma : What do you mean Amma?

Amma : She had lost her husband when she was young. She had a son who was married and had a beautiful daughter just like you. When her grand-daughter was a year old, she lost her son and daughter in law in an accident and her family didn’t support her. She was all alone and directionless.

Padma : What about her grand-daughter now?

Amma : She was in a state where she couldn’t nurture her grand child and when a couple who did not have kids requested her to give her grand child in adoption to them and promised her to take care of her grand child and give her a better future she agreed and she had no option as her grand child’s future was more important to her than her’s, she agreed and let her grand child go.

Padma thought all night about the old lady.

Next day Padma and her Amma went to the old lady’s place.

They spent the entire day.

But, while leaving Padma said something…

Padma : Amma we will take Ajji with us. We will take care of her, I promise to be by her side and I will convince Appa about this. Please Amma.

Amma was in tears and she agreed. Padma, Amma and Ajji returned home. Appa agreed and Padma was very happy.

That night.

Padma : Ajji what’s your name?

Ajji : Padmalakshmi.

Padma was surprised and happy as they both shared the same name.

But, little did she know that the grand-daughter who was adopted from the old lady was her.

She never complained about her name again. She was happy that she had the name of her Ajji.