He thought life is gonna be secure when he, like rest of the sheep, chose MBA as the savior of his sinking career, albeit, career might be the only branch of his climber-alike life which is either cut short or doesn’t care to grow, despite shape-shifting one profile to another.

It was like the impulse, flapping its wings to seize the destination even before assembling the bits and niche of journey which was unknown to him. Well, after a couple of years of thrusting, it came up to a hopeless, ugly- NOTHING.

A cluster of stalls- called MNCs in world of globalization had shone upon him to make him kiss their feet for being the constant reminder that they were the reason he wouldn’t have to be shamelessly asking funds for survival. All these hysterics and theatrics embossed one fact out though. He began writing if nothing. 


“He wrote heart-aches/breaks and thought of himself as a budding Rumi, creating the world of metaphors and extracts that sometimes even he failed to understand, however, one thing irrevocably happens- criticism- more like feedbacks. We really got to stop taking feedback as ugly naked whiplashes on our backs.
Apparently writing doesn’t define the lusciousness of literature, it doesn’t carry the secrecy you swore to yourself, and it is definitely not a broken soul penning down its grief for others to sympathize; it’s for everyone to everyone. “


“He still is to figure out a lot that has puddled up but writing finds it clear-cloudless way like a guest whom you would wanna have best coffee conversations with. It shouldn’t be hard to find words when you wanna shred some piece of your mind, if it gets more complicated it’s probably not what you wanna shred. Just write words, broken sentences, ruptured signals, thoughts spilled like an espresso on a blank sheet. Don’t do it to right an inept language that hustles-up your confusion; write because you are not afraid of sharing your imperfections. Don’t write because you wanna flaunt it, but because it comes easy and absolutely free to you.”



leave the mess be,unbolt the gateway to instincts


IMG_7134Stretching your arms 9000 feet above the sea level exclusive of any surface! We got over the ridicule of life once again and sneaked out to taste another flavor of dessert called WANDERLUST. Two more feathers to the hat of “WOMEN-AT-LOSE”- added up to boost more fun, more girl time, dirtiest of language, non-existent code of behavior and melodrama resurrecting  every now and then , and of-course showers of glamour, waiting to be discovered by a bunch of thugs  out there in the big bad lustful world. (yeah, right!)

Right from, co-coordinating via phone –calls and whatsapp group updates  and facebook messages from different corners of the country to summon-up  at the iconic point-zero of our new journey (which never starts on time, taking into account last minute deductions and additions). And what’s more worse? Pool of funds to hire a cab to save time if not money, multiplies the quotient of being a total hooligan in your own world of other cheapsters (called friends) like yourself.

IMG_7135Well this time we trekked our way out to embrace the thrill of PARA-GLIDING starting from the foot-hills of the Himalayas.

Mountains have become an enticing bit of our wanderlust over the period of our yatras. The woman entitled to lead us most of the time, tried her wits to chose BIR-BILLING as the first destination of this excursion.

We caught a DRIVER WHO BARELY DROVE :/ 100 kilometers had been his perimeter so far and we doubted if he had throttled out of his own city before. It was like catching a shy clown-fish. Like “JON-SNOW-KNOWS-NOTHING”!  We almost pitied him. He was well cautioned about the level of preposterous conversations he would have to endure and the rest of personality quirks of us all women were elements of surprise to him. Nevertheless, he claims to have have the most wonderful trip ever, and that was with us.

IMG_7573Anyway, peeing on roads/highways, picking GAJRAS over car fresheners,  shitting in turns in creepiest of bushes, laughing like a snorting wild-boar on a woman’s face- who was disgusted, startled and worried about her own daughter after witnessing six girls on lose, as if we were whores and asked her co-male-travellers to sleep with us. She was one of those who forbid their daughters to step out of the shells to face realities. I bet she’d have pledged  to never let her daughter out on a road-trip.

IMG_7366Like most of the astounding hide-outs lying out there naked in the flora and fauna. BIR-BILLING  is another unscathed, unexploited beauty that made us dive deep into the unknown and never wanting to come back out of the mystery of this virgin beauty, as usual. Even though your life might be ruckus. The world you’ve escaped from might be upside down but you probably find all the answers you’ve been looking for, for long, here.

To be contd…

teevra Continue reading leave the mess be,unbolt the gateway to instincts



Celebratethe spark of being

the mirage of dreams

some illusion that screams

to be real or to gleam..,


Celebrate the masses of loners

or li’l bizarre in a corner

the reason of your role…

the crowd behind that drones.


Celebrate when you have nothing to lose,

for life is a voyage cruise

no matter the density of scar or bruise;


Celebrate the percussion at once,

thoughts with realm of rebel, one or tons,

a search that wouldn’t hunt

and the fall when you fell blunt.


Celebrate the pitches of curiosity

the rage of someone’s animosity

your faults and their velocity

the patience before your ferocity.


Celebrate what all you let go,

the pendulum of existence, to and fro…

celebrate when you realize, it’s time to behold…

all that you have, and all that you dont!







bay blisters

10348291_1496385660623844_6947628649647203914_nRoar of the bay
On a territorial threat display
Charge the giant waters,
Coursing the shore
Longing to stretch some more.
They command, they growl
Drag the sand, so it sounds
But she profoundly lies,
And calms n soothes…
To hold her ground
And whispers to the bay-
“It’s here i belong
It’s there you belong…
But we convene,
As the time summons”