Rushing through the last stage of packing her belongings and leaving behind the scraps of rough sheets(50/Kg),which she had once bought to practise the Engineering Drawing, revise her circuit diagrams and learn her Management subjects. It was never that easy for her to keep back the not so needful things, for every bit of her room at Mansi Girls Accommodation had a memory of her long 4 years at Nagpur, a not so happening city but she airbrushed this place with all her beautiful friends, her college ,her cool brothers ,her hostel’s juniors and ofcourse her best friend-her roommate.

“Dance the night away live your life and stay young on the floor’’-her phone rang and she sprinted to get into her pyjamas and ran down the stairs till she had reached out to the hostel’s door where she probably signed for the last time in the register her ‘name and time out’. It was her branch-mate, her buddy brat and her dear brother who had come down all the way from the Boy’s Hostel to bid his sister a happy life ahead. They hugged each other with promises of staying in touch and never being in history of each other’s life. Tears and sobs as they perhaps realized that college is over and so are the happy and cheerful days.

“Hurry up, else we will miss the train” shouted she at her roomie as she was trying to tie the knot with her laziness. They picked up their bags and started to climb down the stairs where he was waiting to see her. A big bye and a toast raised in honour of her 4 long years at this place. They got inside the auto and he along with her anky panky friend and her roomie’s best one accompanied them to the railway station. As soon they reached the station, there pulse pounded up and down. She broke down into tears as she hugged her friends and the special one too was seen with droplets of water on the cheeks. Something was going the way that it shouldn’t have been. “How shall we meet in the evenings? How shall we go and have our favourite pani puri? Who shall we fight with? Reliance doesn’t provide us with STD free calls!” And the train’s signal alerted us of departure. She was leaving behind her soul and carrying with her just a body hanged with a pair of jeans and the smiley tee. He ran along with the train and she cried louder and louder and within  few second his face was altered with the end of the platform. “Nagpur!!Away from you forever”.

Months passed. She was lightening up her home. House became home with her jolly presence. Evenings seemed to be a bit treacherous as her evenings of college days troubled her. She kept herself engaged. Weekends were a fun time for the family as they united to celebrate, had dinner and watched movies. The theatre honked her with splashes of her and him watching movies together in Cinemax with the leftover pocket money that they got from their home. She missed him.

One sudden morning she and her college friends decided to fly to Delhi as joining dates were nearing. And they did the same. Within a week they landed in the capital and their eyes filled with dreams of the shiny tomorrow. He was equally happy and tensed about her safety. But he promised to meet her very soon.

“I am in Delhi”-he called . She had no limit of joy, she cuddled herself, aired happiness all around and met him and his friend. What an evening it was. Cheerful stories, seeing through the lens of the past, discussing about the future and also realizing the fact that tomorrow he will be leaving. After a fun-filled weekend she went to bid him a farewell and he stepped back from the metro, took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. They kept on looking into each other’s eyes till the doors of the metro embraced each other and she felt that it was probably the last time that they met with love for each other. Taken aback she bullied her thoughts and hummed ‘hooo….saaa….naaaa…..’ .

Days passed and gradually she realized that things are getting better. He was busy with his masters and she with her office. By the time they were free and barely had minutes to speak to each other, their dead tired eyes dint support . A year passed. The promises of meeting each other in a month’s gap turned into a single meeting forever. She checked her FB account and trued to log in but the red coloured alert didn’t let her do the same. Cries of terror crashed on her. A mere insecurity of maybe it wasn’t a good decision to let him  go ,even after his hazardous mistakes. May be he wasn’t into her any more. He called her up and things melted with just small ‘hello’.

With the days turning into weeks things dint seem to match up between what he said and she used to find every other day. He started being abusive, which he was previously as well but a small meeting used to break the ice. But now distance dint let her forgive him for his abuses. Their master’s college had a group and she found him constantly hitting on a girl and two. Never did she thought that her pure love could actually be betrayed, avoided and hammered.

One fine morning  as she logged into her Facebook account and was going through all the messages she came across a small message from an unknown person which stated about her guy “Mam, my life is finished. Your boyfriend is trying on my girl and making fake promises by showing her the sympathy that you have ditched him and you stay with another guy’’.. She was broken into pieces and had no words to say. But she sealed her thought that she had at  the metro station that ‘that it was probably the last time that they met with love for each other’.. She sat helpless and torn apart. Nothing could mend her heart. Anger ,tears ,yellings followed her wherever she went. That very day he called her up and said a hi… She  dint know how one someone be so fake! Before dropping the call the only lines she said were ”I understand you don’t luv me. You are seeing someone else and I have had no problem with it if you would have accepted it. I loved you and there was no point spreading rumours and pin pointing my character.  bye.. TC”

HCL was a good place to work and she had  bunch of new friends along with her who never allowed her to take  a bite of her past. Things went well and all her yesterday was re painted with a fresh bunch of love like that of the tulips. Years passed and though they went through hell lot of ups and downs but God protected them together with a  fear in each other’s heart of not losing the love of their life. Through thick and thin she stuck by his side and flamed inside them was the urge to be together.  Love was all lit up again in the air.

The plaster saints, the hum bugs of the population who praises the epitome of love- ‘Radha Krishna’ went dead against their marital belief. The preaching and practices had a big bridge of difference in between. They tried every bits and pieces to apart the two. The chilly-lemon flavor took a heinous turn of being used in black magics and undesirable situations to break the bond they shared. As she left behind her ageing parents who had always respected her decisions about her life,  one day they asked her to step back at her place . She had no other option but a yes to their decision as staying back for what is still dicey for her partner’s thought process and In a way losing her parents amidst the odd would be not so justified.

Days are being counted till the hours of separation and once again promises are being made of meeting a month’s time and going for trips and that he would be coming down to her place to own her.

She smiles to herself and these words sooth her mind. But deep inside when the room is dark and the sound of the ticks of the clock hits her ears and she removes her locks from her face she calms herself with a note so cool alert. The alert of the fate, the alert of the experiences that yesterday taught her ,the alert of reality which whispers the only words–“He won’t return”.

Borrowing the words of Mirza Ghalib “Rahi na taaqat-e-guftar aur agar ho bhi

                                                                            To kis umeed oe kahiye ke arzuu kya hain”….

Weaving the time that have been framed with the ticking of the clock.The moments which took a second to get itself showcased as a curve-on-lips memories.

If time would have garlanded itself with the stop watch which could have ceased it from becoming walled frames of quilted glimpses of treasued ownership that YES!!!WE OWN EACH OTHER...

WEDLOCK

Smile gallore..

The Indian customs and rituals of marriage are one of the most beautiful and enticing part of the hitching world. Starting from shopping for the bride and the groom till the very wedding day its all full of excitement and effort to make “The Big Day” a grand success- a tale which the bride and the groom will bag as their treasured memory, a saga which friends and family will remember forever. A  token of love from the parents and a responsibility of the Fathers of the society which says, ”Oss ki bund si hoti hain Betiyaan, Papa ki dulari aur jaan se pyaari hoti hain BETIYAAN”…

Blessings..

The occasion of wedding is regarded as the pious form of mutual understanding, love trust and sacrifice. This precious event not only ties the knot for the bride and the groom but also for the families, where the bride-side folds hand with a request to take care of their gem daughter and on the other hand the groom-side consoles and promises to take care of their daughter so that she can dwell in their hearts.

India has its own unity in diversity where different caste, creed and religion have their different ways and to make the one and only event a grandeur.

Indians take a festive bow to this event. Fire crackers, dhol and tapping toes to the beat of the smell of wedding-the combination is a must.

 

The dream-filled eyes..

Mehendi..

The Sisters

The Promising Kalire and Beauty of Chooda..

The Sisters and their last minutes' butterflies in tummy..

 For "Gravition is not responsible for people falling in love"-Albert Einstein;this pious bond of ever lasting love and never ending care is said to be sculptured by the creator of the world in order to bring along people from poles apart to meet and give their journey a beautiful destiny.

NIZAMUDDIN DARGAH

Nizamuddin Dargah is the Dargah of the world famous Sufi Saint Nizamuddin Auliya. The place where hundreds and thousands of people from all over the world visit, in order to raise their palms and hold their hands to the belief and credence of the one and only Almighty.

People sew their garland with wishes and desires of good health, love and prosperity and tie the thread of contention with heart felt conviction that Allah will be  taking his own initiative to distribute their desires evenly on the basis of sow and reap.

The nearest metro station to the Dargah is the JLN ,from where one can avail an auto and reach the destination. There are two entrances to the Dargah. The first one being the one which takes us inside after passing a water place and the other one takes us through all the small shops and vendors which offer us a wide range starting from the arrangements which we can offer at the Dargah,(this consists of a silver plate with incense stick, the holy chadar to offer at the pious mazar, holy rose petals, small packet of sweets and a bundle of laal dhaaga which one can knot on the walls of the Dargah or can tie around their wrist, which they believe will keep them protected from all the sins) to a mouth-watering  non-veg dishes. Also one can find small shops portraying Muslim culture. I prefer taking the second route as it enthralls me under the shed of the righteous religion.

Inside the Dargah we can find lots of people from different caste, colour and creed losing themselves in the holy worship of the mazar; which is a belief of many that Allah would grant their prayers, some find it the best place to recite the holy prayer, some say that they have come to get rid of all the sins and add meaning to their lives and for people like me it’s a place of ethic and belief which stirs the faith and praises the beautiful fabrication of the beliefs and the being.

I choose to visit the Dargah on Thursdays, as not only I get enshrined by the holy belief of the Azaan but also by the soulful qawwalis of  qawwals which is followed by the intonations of ‘Allah Hu’… The qawwalis start after the sunset and its really the best way to vent out your stressful thoughts aside and drown in the peaceful praise of the unseen.

“Through the eyes of Mirza Ghalib, “Na tha kuch to khuda tha, kuch na hota to khuda hota”

WEEKEND GET AWAY TO NAINITAL.

Nainital is a beautiful hill station in the state of Uttarakhand, India. This mesmerizing hill station has the height of the hills as well as the foam and drift of the lake. No doubt why it is known as “The Queen of the hill stations.”

Distance from Delhi to Nainital is around 6hrs 30mins depending upon the time when you are starting from Delhi and considering the then traffic condition.

I along with my friends and family started from Delhi at an early  hour of 2am in December night and yes we had to face a bit of traffic due to the traffic of the loaded trucks and reached Haldwani at around 5.30am. Sounds strange??!! All thanks to my one and only friend who can really curtail Google Map distance by an hour or two with this thrilling speed and tiredless hands i=on the steering. At Haldwani we took a power nap of around half an hour and started for the main city and within 1 hour we were viewing the Naini lake right infront of us. Oh what a piece of God’s creation.

                            

Though we thought and were confident enough that we can get a hotel easily after reaching Nainital but all in vain as that was the peak time in December to visit the hills and thereby we had no other option than check out each and every hotel out there, to suit us at the best .Finally we chose to book one through Make My Trip. Hotel Shivalik at Almora it was. Almora is again around 1 hour from Nainital.

So we decided to have our brunch in a nearby restaurant and then roam around a bit followed by going back to hotel by evening. It was a spectacular experience to take a stroll around the naini lake. The shimmery rays of the sun made the lake glitter as a silver dangler in a maiden’s attire. We soothed our sweet tooth craving with a ‘kuch nahi Sunday’ of the Gianis at the mall road of Nainital and headed back to Almora.

The way to Almora was similar to the dark room with a single breath. The entire road from Nainital to Almora was fortified by hills at the right and dense forest at our left. Again Almora is a small place, quite away from the hustles of the Nainital city. Hotel Shivalik was a decent one with very good and spacious rooms and the staff at the hotel were quite good at their behaviour. The food that we ordered were again very tasty among which ‘Kali Mirch Chicken’ was the best. After a wonderful sleep at night we started for Day-2 which was meant for some specialties of food around and some woollen goods.

We came back to the same mall road place and started for the Tibatti market or the Tibetan Market. This place had a variety of Tibetan fooding and stuffs. Also it had wonderful range of street marketing. We headed towards the interior part of the markets to get hold of some ethnic and alluring shawls. Choosing out the best was also becoming a big job for us. And yes you should expertise sarojini nagar and lajpat’s street shopping first in order to conquer the market place with your shopping bag full of stuffs at a reasonable rate.

 After a good amount of shopping we were entraining for the food. We tried a plateful of thukpa and it had a magistic touch to out taste bud,

followed by chicken momos and a wonderful dish of ‘bhutwa’-the mutton liver dish. Our tummies had a rest after a leisurely walk at the garam sadak beside the Naini Lake

and finally took our way back to our hotel.

The next day was the time when the bells rang for our way back to home. We had our breakfast at a local dhaba where we were served with kadak chai(a very strong tea) and bun-omlette.On our way back we packed a box full of ‘baal mithai’ the very famous sweet of Uttarakhand and finally started for Delhi.               

Though the time was very less and we couldn’t explore a lot , but even then we had a tempting time at Nainital.

On the way from Nainital to Haldwani.