The Broken Bride


She was happy just thinking about what she wanted. She wanted a spectacular wedding. A groom who would dote on her. A mother who would cry as she walked down the aisle. A father who would look at her with utmost affection as he walked her down the aisle. The melody of the harp soothing her nerves. And the red roses all around.

She was happy thinking about what she wanted. But she knew she could never have what she wanted. They had made sure of that. The military, the soldiers, the bombings. They had taken away all that she had. Her perfect groom, her loving parents, her best friends and everyone else who even looked familiar. All that was left was the wait. The wait for the next bombing, the next night when the hungry soldiers would come to hunt, the next time she would actually have food to eat.

But she dreamt and thought and wondered. And she was happy when she did that. She knew that her days were numbered. Until the day it all ended. The pain that was beyond tolerance, the hunger that never ceased, the darkness that never lost.

And she saw a flash. Something close to a million cameras being flashed at her. And she saw them all. The groom, the parents, the friends. And she was happy. The broken bride was happy.


This post has been written for picture it & write  by ermilia

The Urge To Wander

I love my Mom. She’s beautiful and funny and understanding and amazing. She knows so much about so many things. She travels a lot, you know. A lot. She buys me stuff from all those places that she visits. All those far-off mysterious lands. But she has a lot of friends that she travels with. And I live with my Grandmom when she is gone. But even when she’s here we live with Grandma.

I wished my Mom would live with me. I wish she would be here when I get back from school everyday. I wish we could just walk to the market on Saturdays like so many of my friends. But she is different. She doesn’t like living at one place, she tells me. She loves moving around. “The urge to wander is too big than the urge to live a life”, she says. I don’t get that. All my friends have their mothers living with them. They don’t give a shit about the “urge to wander”, whatever that means.

She’s been back for the past 10 days now. I love it! I love hugging her and sleeping. I love the smell of her hair. I just love my Mom. Especially when she’s around. Me and her are about to take a walk now. I love walking with her on the bridge. It feels like I have her all to myself. I love that.

Today we are talking about the time she was my age. 10 is the perfect age to be, she tells me. I am happy. She has these long, dark hair that I wish I had. I love looking at her talk to me. The weather is nice today. I like foggy days. They just have this mystery to them. Makes me feel like a detective. The curtains of fog are the secret I have to unveil.

“What are you smiling about”, my Mom says. Oops, I forgot she was here.

“I think I have to leave today, sweetheart”, she says.

“When will you be back?”, I’m shocked.

“In another couple of months.”

“You always say that and you’re gone for almost a year all the time. I don’t want you to go away”, I scream.

“Do not scream at your mother!”

“You are the one who’s always leaving and I’m the one who’s stuck living here with Grandma. Take me with you.”

“Sweety, you can’t come to the places I visit. You’re too young.”

“But I don’t want to be too young. I wanna come with you. I wanna be with you all the time”, I cry.

“Let’s just sit on the parapet like we always do and we’ll decide later if you can come.”

I know she’s lying. She always lies. About taking me with her the next time. About coming back in the next couple of months. About not knowing who my father is. She is always lying.

I climb on the parapet with her. And we sit side by side swinging our legs like all the other times that she has left. She is pretending as if nothing has happened. I’m sick of her going away. I don’t want her to go away. I want her to myself. She’s my Mother. I deserve that she’s around all the time. I look at her. She’s beautiful and I love her. More than I can ever tell her. But I want her for myself.

She’s saying something. I smile. Her eyes are beautiful. So is her smile. Her dimple. Her teeth are perfect. I wish I could just keep her with me forever. And then I know. I look at her swinging her legs and I give her a shove. She screams. I think she’s trying to hold on to me. She fails. I see her falling towards the curtain of fog. She is staring at me and screaming.

“Don’t worry Mom. I’m going to be with you. Always”, I smile to myself.

My Mom is not going anywhere. I’m happy. I really love her, you know.


This post has been written for picture it & write by ermilia

What Best Times are Made of..

We were friends at one time

And then we were more than friends

You loved me and I loved you

You promised me a million things and I kissed you and promised you a little more

We did a lot of things together

Watched movies, held hands, talked for hours

I was happy

You were happy

I was happy that you were happy

You made me feel good about me

I hope I made you feel the same

And then I did something stupid

Something I shouldn’t have said

And everything shattered

“WE” changed to YOU and ME

I am lost today without you

I feel a void that never seems to shrink

I feel lost without you,

And more, without your friendship

Today, as I sat here going through some of our old chats

I remembered what you meant to me

What I meant to you

And I remembered

What Best Times are Made of

You were the best thing that happened to me

I treasure that

But I do not regret “WE” didn’t work

Because you taught me a lot

And more than anything else

What you truly taught me was

What Best Times are Made of

And I will be eternally grateful to you for that

And I will love you

Until my dying day

DISCLAIMER: This is my first attempt at something that’s different than plain prose. And for the sake of not insulting all the great poets we have around here, I’m not going to term it “poetry”. So that’s about it!

Of Goodbyes and Funny Images and a Little Happy Somethings

Okay, so was the first thought that came to your mind when you came here, “Why is the title of this post a little weird?”. I know it is, so I’m going to get to it by parts. Oh yes, I love dissecting everything systematically. Except when it comes to my wardrobe. I find clothes only when they’re dumped in a heap and every time I have to shut the door, I have to hold them with my left hand and bang the door with the right one, all the time hoping no sleeve or sock is jutting out. If it is, I have to go through the entire regime of banging the door and holding the clothes and blah blah. Okay, so I am drifting big time. But as you can see, I am very systematic, even in the case of my wardrobe, I think.

So getting back to the original point, when I started writing this post it was going to be called only “Of Goodbyes” period. I was going to talk about goodbyes. About how difficult they are. And about how uncertain everything seems after them. I am going through a series of really tough goodbyes right now. Three of my best friends from college are moving to another country for higher studies and suddenly they are leaving. And what is so baffling about this right now for me is the uncertainty about our relationships from this moment on. I mean I don’t even know what part of the world we are going to be in a couple of years. I don’t even know when I’m seeing them next. So, yeah, it’s pretty messed up. And I know goodbyes and new beginnings are a part of life, but knowing that fact doesn’t make anything easier.

So one of them is leaving today and all of us went to meet him for dinner last night. I thought I should get him something and so I bought a bunch of red and yellow roses (I should have known that it was a guy leaving and not a girl). The moment I give him the bunch he just returns it to me and says,”Oh, I’m leaving tomorrow early morning and I don’t want any trash at home. Won’t have the time to throw it on my way out” and I just don’t know what to say. I am completely blank and staring at the alien that he is. I mean who would refuse a bunch of flowers from a girl who is half in tears because you are leaving! And then it struck me: MEN!!

Can we ever understand one another???

Okay, so maybe I should stop here, this whole men-women issue, deserves one full comprehensive post dedicated to it! But however they are, whatever they are, I love them and I’m going to miss them big time! I hope they know that (And I hope they don’t read this! I can already picture them rolling their eyes and saying,”Cheesy” with that judgmental look in their eyes).

Now, moving on to the next part of the title, “Of Funny images”. So when I was thinking of working on this post about goodbyes, I decided to first look for appropriate images to go with the post. What I ended up doing was collecting a bunch of totally hilarious, if not  unrelated, images and I thought to myself, “These have to go somewhere in the post”. So, here they are:

Okay, so how cute is that? I mean if you discount the filthy toilet seat.

I love his expression!! And “Business Cat?” Dude, that’s a killer!

Oh, I love this one the most!! Especially the “Stupid” part. I’m sorry Kristen Stewart, I hate you with all my guts and those shi**y movies you star in. I don’t even know why I know your name! Sh*t! Now I hate myself for knowing that. (I’m beating my head with both my fists at the moment). Damn!

This one doesn’t even have the word “Goodbye” in it! But don’t you just love him? And his goatee? My dear friend Goat, the world needs understanding and peace-loving citizens like you in this screwed up 21st century. Yours sincerely, a peace-loving human.

I know, I know! You just love my sense of humor, don’t you? Okay, so maybe the woman at the bottom is a little creepy. But, what the hell, the picture is oddly funny. Rings any bells, Ladies?

So maybe I should stop with the funny pictures now. There is no dearth of funny pictures on google images and I’m just trying really hard to control my urge to keep on adding more of those!

Moving on to the “Of Little Happy Somethings” part. My blog has had quite some things to cheer about in the past couple of days and I’ve been procrastinating writing about them for quite sometime now. So, here goes:

1. My sweet friend Carolyn Page from ABC of Spirit Talk was kind enough to award me Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award.

 Thank you so much, sweetheart. It means a lot to me. And you are a wonderful blogger. I hope we remain sisters till the end of time. Hugs 🙂

I would urge all of you to please visit her blog and go through her wonderful posts. Thank you again, Carolyn.

2. My blog crossed a 100 followers. Okay, so right now the count is a 104 and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your support. I love you all.

3. My blog has reached about 5000 views. (So maybe a little less. Its 4988 at this moment to be precise. But I’m hoping it’ll reach 5000 by the time I’m done re-reading this post a million times).

4. I’m completing 3 months on WordPress in about 5 days. And I’m so happy being here.

So yeah, here it is. The systematic dissection of the title. I hope it made sense to you at least now.(If it didn’t, maybe my sense of humor is a little more screwed up than I actually thought).

Okay so I can’t help but put up one last picture that should really go here. (Mind you: It is completely unrelated)

Image courtesy: Google images, my friend for life!


He stood there on his boat, looking out at the trail it was leaving, and he was at peace. At peace with himself, at peace with life, at peace with what he was. He was tired of the turmoil of the mundane. After all, doesn’t everyone?

But here he didn’t feel any of it. The pressures, the stress, the constant nagging in his heart, the constant worrying about what to do next. It all already seemed alien to him. The sea had always soothed him in a way even his own mother could not. This was absolute, pure bliss.  He didn’t care if he died at this very moment. He was content and happy and peaceful.

The melody of the waves, the smell of the sea, the mesmerizing shades of the sky, the playful breeze on his face, in his hair and down to his bone made him want to freeze the moment. And it had always been the same. All his life. The sea called out to him, played with him, lulled him to sleep, at times. Even when he lived away from her, for years at a time, she tugged at him and his heart. Until finally he had decided to leave everything and live close to her, where he belonged. As he stood there savouring every moment of happiness and forgetting everything that had ever bothered him, he knew one thing for sure:

He was Home.


This post has been written for picture it & write by ermilia

Building Castles

It had not been a good time for them. It’s not that they weren’t getting along. But something was just not right. It was probably because they hadn’t seen each other for so long. Things were getting a little weird. They both knew they had changed. Isn’t that inevitable? After all, it had been a year since they last saw each other.

And she was really scared. Scared that he wouldn’t like her anymore. Scared that things just wouldn’t be normal. Scared that he wouldn’t like what she had become. And worse, scared that she wouldn’t like what he had become.

She felt the apprehension growing in her heart as she walked towards the place where they had always met for four years before he had decided to go away. Not from her, no. But towards his dreams. For chasing them. For realizing them. She knew it was for his own good. For their own good, in fact. But that wouldn’t help her with the growing knot in her belly.

She reached a lot before the time at which they had decided to meet. She had brought him a book. He loved books. And she loved looking at him when he read them. She sat there with the waves lapping at her feet, their sound never failing to soothe her, to calm her nerves.

And she saw him approaching her, a bunch of beautiful pink roses in his hands. And as he drew closer, their eyes met and she knew, right in that moment, that nothing had changed. That nothing ever would change. They were just the same. Because the one thing that truly mattered had not altered. It was the fact that they loved each other.

And both of them sat there by the beach, the water rising as the time passed, drenching them. She was oblivious to the fact that the book was drenched. He, to the fact that the roses were now mere petals. All they did was look into each other’s eyes and talk and hold hands and talk till the sun went down. And they both knew that they were going to be alright.


This post has been written for picture it & write by ermilia

The curious case of the two most important words

Janis Joplin has always been one of my favourite singers. I absolutely adore her voice. This love for her (and certain other people), is what lead to one of my previous posts on rockstars (The Forever 27 Club). But today, the curios case is not about any one of those (Though I’m sure I’ll be back with more posts on musicians. Oh! They’re just too fascinating). Today while listening to one of her songs, Me and Bobby McGee, one sentence really struck a chord somewhere:

Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose

And that really got me thinking. I mean, isn’t freedom really important to us humans? Right since we’re kids, we’re taught about a million kinds of freedoms. The Indian Freedom Struggle, the American freedom movement, the French Revolution, we’re taught about the fundamental rights we have like the freedom of speech, freedom of religion, we’re taught about individualistic freedom. And aren’t we always trying to achieve it, through our own different ways? We often resort to religion, to meditation, to alcohol, to drugs. We fight with our parents for that freedom and name it “the generation gap”. All in an attempt to escape reality. To be free.

But what does it really mean to be free? If we didn’t have any ties with anyone or anyone to bother us with, we won’t have most of the miseries. Can we really be free when we are always tied to something? Doesn’t this line really drive home the point of freedom? I think it does. Absolute freedom is a myth.

Moving to the next aspect of this curious case, I’m gonna talk about Into the Wild, the movie based on the life of Christopher McCandless. This brilliant movie has one of those phrases that leave you thinking for hours:

Happiness only real when shared. 

Makes absolute sense, doesn’t it? I mean I don’t even have to think twice to tell you that it’s true. We’re always looking for stuff to share with people. Anything good or anything bad happens, you’ll just run to those near and dear ones to “share” it with them. To laugh about it, to cry about it, to celebrate about it, to hate something  together.

But what does it mean to combine these two things? You can never be absolutely free unless you don’t have anything left to lose. And you’ll be happy because you’re free. But you won’t be really happy unless you have someone to share it with. And you don’t have anyone to share it with because you don’t have anything or anyone worth losing. So in essence are both absolute freedom and absolute happiness huge lies?

Maybe. Maybe they are. But I know one thing for certain. I’ve been happy and I have felt what freedom is. I’ve been happy when I am with my loved ones, with my parents, my friends. Yes, we’ve all had our differences. And yes, at times I have been miserable. And at other times, I’ve made them miserable. But isn’t it a part of the fun thing called life? Won’t it get a little drag if all we did was be happy all the time? I think happiness will lose the position of the most sought after thing among humans.

And as far as freedom is concerned, according to me, freedom is in being what you want to be. Freedom is in loving the people you want to love. Freedom is in accepting people because you love them irrespective of what they stand for.

Because the trick to living a fulfilling life is, I think, in finding a balance between the two. Finding the right equilibrium between being free and being happy. Because all we wanna do in this world is be happy, isn’t it?


Image courtesy: and “Into the Wild”


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