Being alone is not the same as being lonely #L #Loneliness #AtoZChallenge

We’re all a bit scared of loneliness – of being alone. Of being left. Of not being loved. Or needed. Or cared about. “Lonely” hits a spot of fear in all of us even if we don’t acknowledge it.

Being alone is a state of being by oneself without others around. It can actually be a healthy phenomenon, as everyone needs a little time away from others to plan, to think, and to rest.

However, being lonely is a different matter entirely. We are especially prone to loneliness in the modern society. Social media like Facebook, Whatsapp, or Snapchat may allow more convenient communication, but all these ways of communication neglect the importance of face-to-face socialization.

And at the end, despite many “friends” we have on the online media, they don’t really have anyone to talk to when they need friends most.

We prefer online communication to face-to-face conversation because online communication is less committed, if you don’t respond instantly, it’s okay. But face-to-face conversation doesn’t really need to be stressful. When you’re with someone who you can be comfortable with, silence is precious too.

Audrey Hepburn once said:

“As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others”

This quote highlights the importance of helping others, and also highlights the fact that most of the time we are the key to many problems we are facing; in other words, you can cure your loneliness.

Giving others a hand will help you realize your value, as you discover you are capable of doing so. And helping others also open up opportunities of deep friendships, as very often, a deep relationship is forged in adversity.

When we talk about “helping others”, you don’t need to always save others by risking life. You can just pay attention to details.

Write your colleague a card if he or she is unhappy. Read out loud for the old man living next to you. Or help a child to reach the top of a rack


Charulata –  Charulata, a beautiful saga of loneliness by Styajit ray himself  is based on a story by Rabindranath Tagore, Nastanirh (The broken Nest) and set in Calcutta in the late nineteenth century. Bengal Renaissance is at its peak and India is under the British rule. The film revolves around Charulata / Charu (Madhabi Mukherjee), the childless, intelligent and beautiful wife of Bhupati (Sailen Mukherjee). He edits and publishes a political newspaper. Bhupati is an upper class Bengali intellectual with a keen interest in politics and the freedom movement.

Charu is interested in the arts, literature and poetry. Though Bhupati loves his wife, he has no time for her. She has little to do in the house run by a fleet of servants. Sensing her boredom, Bhupati invites Charu’s elder brother Umapada and wife Manda to live with them. Umapada helps in running of the magazine and the printing press. Manda with her silly and crude ways is no company for the sensitive and intelligent Charulata.

Amal (Soumitra Chatterjee), Bhupati’s younger cousin comes on a visit. Bhupati asks him to encourage Charu’s cultural interests. Amal is young, handsome and is of the same age group as Charu. He has literary ambitions and shares her interests in poetry. He provides her with much needed intellectual companionship and attention. An intimate relationship develops between Charulata and Amal. There is a hint of rivalry when she publishes a short story on her own without his knowledge. He realizes that Charulata is in love with him but is reluctant to reciprocate due to the guilt involved.

As a respect to Satyajit Ray, we will discuss Charulata only in detail.

In Charulata, Satyajit Ray explores the emergence of the modern woman in the upper-class of colonial India. One can not help drawing parallels with Ibsen’s A Doll’s House.

The opening sequence is a piece of cinematic poetry. We see the young wife Charulata moving from one window to another in her house. She observes the activities of the outside world through the window blinds using opera glasses. She is like a caged bird in her mansion. We sense her curiosity and desire to know the outside world.

As she moves to the interior corridor of the house, we see her intellectual husband. He is too engrossed in a book and walks past her without even noticing her presence. She watches him as he walks away and stands reading. Charu raises her opera glasses and looks again as if he too belongs to the outside world. As Bhupati disappears from the view, she is expressionless and lets the opera glasses slip down. The camera is pulled back sharply, “like a flourish with a pen at the end of an essay …” in Ray’s words. Without a dialogue being spoken, we know Charulata is condemned to her loneliness and boredom.

In the final sequence, as Bhupati returns home after wandering aimlessly, Charu opens the door. Gently and with hesitation, she asks him to enter. A wavering Bhupati enters the door and reaches toward her hand. The shot is frozen and is followed with still images of Charu’s half-lit face, Bhupati’s half-lit face, a servant holding a lamp, a mid-shot of Charu and Bhupati and finally a long-shot of them. As the music rises the words “Nastanirh” (Bengali, The Broken Nest) fill the screen. It was ray’s cinematic answer to Tagore’s original ending in which Bhupati has to go out of town and Charu asks him to take her with him. He hesitates to which Charu says “Thak” meaning “Let it be”. As Ray explained later, it was his visual equivalent of the word “Thak”. “The two are about to reconcile and then prevented from doing so.”

Hail Satyajit Ray.

Is love only about making………………

She has big eyes where you are trapped

Among those brows that seem far apart

Those curls, those greys sneaking out of her

The way you gasp when you come close to her

Her insomniac walk when you look for her at 2 am

Strolling in Balcony humming tune of her favorite song

Her curves camouflage into a sun kissed beach

She smells of your cologne spilled on bedsheet

Her eyes are shut as they always are

Shutting away from a chaos, the mess that is us

Half burnt cigarettes and half-baked thoughts

An incomplete kiss that never connects the dots

Purple highlights falling on her empty back

A tattoo that breaths when you untie that strap

A tornado that engulfs you as a whole

She endured your aching mind, heart and soul

She waited for you to talk of those broken ifs

And make a phoenix out of carcass of unfinished dreams

You love her every night and goes on her waiting

Makes her wonder

Is love only about moaning and making.








When dreams die ….Where do the ashes go

woman on lake
woman on lake

Today a conversation with a close friend about writing, about readers, about success and about unrequited dreams made me to think for hours, think about what he said, think about the set standards of success and do they equal into happiness,the jamboree turning into a carnival of praises, unfound praises, fake validations.And then i wondered that not every thing we dream or we see in future gets a life, so where do the dreams go when they die?

When dreams die

Where do the ashes go

Do they turn into

The crumpled voices

The unbounced echoes

The solitary desires

An untreaded path

The unlit whispers

The circus of plans

The silent screams

A nightmarish stream

The trapped tears

The withdrawal of tides

And moonlit eyes

The indifferent faces

The unhealed cracks

The demons which resurface

A faded touch

A ciggarette butt

And I am still wondering

When dreams die

Where do the ashes go

P.S – This is an incomplete poem, I wish to complete it one day but do remember you are never about what you own and yes make sure that nothing, absolutely nothing should own you. And in today’s world, when we are owned by everything we should not be owning, Be yourself, the world is already filled by first copies.

B : Be Yourself


Once there was this young girl who had a family of academicians &her family wanted her to read,write &learn.So her father arranged a teacher to teach her at home but as she grew up she realized she never liked reading &writing ,she loved to sing , sing along with flowing breeze,along with flying birds .When she told this to her parents they never approved of it &in turn told her that good girls don’t roam out singing, furious over it and they married her to a wealthy merchant.

Time flew away & her desire to sing remained buried in her heart .She became a mother to a baby girl & on that day she decided she would make her daughter a singer who would be appreciated by all ,gradually the baby turned into a lovely girl &her mother arranged a tutor to teach her singing ,her mother started crafting dreams for her daughter &the girl stated with her classes.


The girl realized gradually that she never struck the chord with songs,rather it was the music in which she loved to dance,she enjoyed dancing to the tunes,with the butterflies,among the flowers &one day she told this to her mother in presence of her teacher mother got angry &shouted”do you know i was never allowed to learn music,i tried to complete my unfulfilled dreams through you&now you are saying you want to dance.Good girls never dance”.

Then her parents got her married to a merchant the girl was sad&disappointed but then she accepted her destiny &said to herself she would never restrict her daughter from dancing would arrange for dance classes so that she could dance to the tune of her life .She became mother &when her girl grew up she called her daughter& said that she has arranged dance classes for her &wished to see her as a great dancer one day.

The girl started learning to dance &one fine day the mother all enthusiastic &excited went to her class to inquire about her girl’s progress .The teacher told her she never dances properly&is the least interested child .She came home ,asked her &the girl said”I don’t like dancing mummy, i love reading books,looking at colorful pictures,reading stories.Mother ,the library interests me more than dance classes”mother sat down with forehead in her hands &then she realized: