तुम होती तो क्या आज साथ होती

डिअर नानी

(तुम अभी होती तो डिअर का मतलब समझाते तुम्हें खालिस जौनपुरिया भोजपुरी में ).

कुछ दिन ऐसे होते हैं जब आप बस कहीं छिप जाना चाहते हो, एक ऐसी थकान जब किसी होने के न मायने समझ आते हैं और न किसी न होने के कारण दिखते हैं, ऐसे ही दिन आज तुम मुझे याद आती हो.

सोचती हूँ कि तुम होती तो कैसी होती: कहानी सुनाने वाली प्यारी सी नानी या क्या तुम हमें बगीचे से आम चुराकर तोड़ने पर डाँटने वाली नानी होती, क्या तुम रोटी में घी चुपड़ कर ये कहती कि “घी खा नहीं तो बच्चे कैसे जनेगी” या हर बात पर “एक हमारा ज़माना था” वाली नोस्टालजिक नानी होती.

illustration by pragon fine art

तो डिअर नानी, इन सभी “क्या “ के जवाब मुझे कभी नहीं मिल पायेंगे क्यूँकि सच तो ये है कि मैंने तुम्हें कभी देखा ही नहीं और न ही मैंने तुम्हारी कभी कोई तस्वीर देखी है. फिर भी आज याद आती है तुम्हारी, बिना देखे, बिना सुने, बिना जाने क्या किसी की याद आ सकती है? पर डिअर नानी, आज जो तुम्हें मैं ये चिट्ठी लिख रही हूँ तो तुम्हारी तस्वीर बनाना भी जरुरी है.

कैसी दिखती होगी तुम?
सोचती हूँ कि अगर मैं माँ जैसी दिखती हूँ तो माँ तुम जैसी दिखती होगी. तो मेरे मन के पिक्चर फोल्डर में तुम दिखती हो मुझे माँ जैसी, सफ़ेद बालों के साथ, सीधे पल्ले वाली साड़ी पहने, सर पर पल्ला डाले, सिन्दूर भरी बीच से मांग निकाल कर बालों को बांधे और माथे पर बड़ी सी लाल बिंदी .हो सकता है तुम वैसी न दिखती हो, पर मेरी कल्पना में लाल बिंदी वाली मेरी नानी ऐसी ही दिखती है.

न तुम सिर्फ बहुत जल्दी इस दुनिया से चली गयी पर “पता है मेरी नानी कहती है” वाली मेरी कहानियाँ भी अपने साथ ले गयी. कहानियाँ – मेरी माँ के बचपन के किस्से, नदी किनारे रहने वाले उस भूत की कहानी जो खाना न खाने वाले बच्चों को पकड़ता होगा, राम सीता की वही कहानियाँ जो तुम अनेको बार दोहराती, राजा रानी के किस्से जिसमें शायद तुम हमें सीख ढूँढने बोलती, बूढ़ों वाली चिढ़चिढ़ाहट या फिर तुम्हारे हाथ का बना कुछ अच्छा सा खाना, सब कुछ तो ले गयी तुम अपने साथ.

लाल बिंदी वाली तुम

पर कभी कभी तुम्हारी याद आ जाती है जब कोई अपनी नानी का ज़िक्र करता है या कभी बिना किसी मतलब के भी और उस याद में तुम दिखती हो माँ जैसी, लाल साड़ी पहने, सर पर पल्ला डाले, माथे पर बड़ी सी लाल बिंदी.

डिअर नानी, तुम्हें फिर कभी लिखूंगी कोई और चिठ्ठी, कितना कुछ तो है तुम्हें बताने को और उस चिठ्ठी से तुम्हें ले आउंगी कुछ देर के लिये अपने पास क्यूँकी याद आती है तुम्हारी.
आज बहुत याद आ रही है तुम्हारी.


I just want to sleep

A little drizzle lays bare

On a face with a salty tint

the naked arms which shiver

Of cold , of pain, of breathless whispers 

I try to speak and I choke of dreams

Amid the fading away of screams 

Turn by turn scars shout 

It’s Me! It’s Me! It’s Me! out loud

I dust off the demons from every corner

 the laughs that always hover

An outstretched hand that disappears

Every time I try holding on to it

I enter a dark room with pile of shit

The discarded empathy

The broken kindness

The abandoned love 

The vulnerable friendships

In a quaint little corner of that mess

I find a sepia tinted space 

Where, at this very moment

I just want to sleep

Because life is fucked up and Somedays never come: Postcard from P #TravelDiaries

To the young girls and boys

This postcard comes after a long time.Today I want to tell you that life will never fail to abuse you.No one will come to your rescue and some may  pretend to be there for you wholeheartedly. But no one eventually will. Your struggle is unique  because it’s yours and no one else’s. Because no one else can go through it the way you have. Maybe your ideas of what life would be like or what your dreams are ,broken and bruised. Maybe you gave all of it, and life kept bogging you down. Despite all efforts, life fucked up big time . Maybe you’ve lost a loved one despite all the forever promises, maybe you never have the time you always assumed you had. And maybe, you’re just so alone. But to the ones reading this, you’ve survived and you’re here. All those times life embarrassed you still found something which sailed you through.

Then you thought about some days. Some day you will go and live in the mountains, someday you will reach alps,someday you will write a perfect poem for that special one, someday you will take your parents on a cruise and someday you will actually be alive.

And with every passing milestone you cross after life throws boulders at you, you push away that someday further away.

Because life is fucked up big time, that someday never comes any day . All you people reading this postcard, cease the moment.

Your someday is today. Live it NOW.



And in that moment, they were infinite

In the moment before they went on a drive

A drive that was never a date

When friendship wore a red crimson top

The wild spirit put a dash of pink gloss

When smile decided to stay a little longer

And laughs creeped into consciousness

When It was no more the same

I don’t care turned into little efforts that looked vain

When songs had a name, a moment, a face with gleaming eyes

And the record was stuck like a flying kite in blue sky

When accidental touch became intentional

And all the mirrors in car focused on one object

Everything became upside down

We talk of firsts, the overrated firsts

The first sight, the first love, the first kiss, the first meet

But then he knew it already and she knew that from inside

That they started way before the firsts

When they didn’t even knew, they were together

They had already held their hand at a one arm distance

They had already kissed in a parallel world

In the moment, they met for the first time

They had already been in love for a lifetime

And in that moment, they were infinite




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.

Just go to hell……….Ae Dil #J #AtoZChallenge

Let’s talk about one factor that leads to anxious days, sleepless nights and depressing moments- Toxic Relationships.

Courtesy- EliteDaily

Relationships turn toxic and because that’s how addiction is, trying to find comfort in the same thing that’s destroying you. But you still fight for it, you fight for same thing that has destroyed you.

This poem is for the toxic relationships:

“You grow up with the tales that fool you

the karmic relationships

The happily ever afte

The beautiful families that go on vacations

The kiss under the stars

The love that never fades

Walking on sand with hand to hand

Comes an emotionally unavailable man

You wake up to his texts

And nights that say “i miss you”

They aren’t toxic at first

and that is how you fall

Comes the anger, the desire, the shame

the outbursts, expectations and the pain

You knew that was not normal

Screaming, fighting and just fucking

The fact is

Nothing will work

That expensive hair cut in a posh saloon

Books that tell you to move on

Shopping spree that makes you broke

TED talks that friends suggest

Eat pray and love never exists

Love happens when you least expect it

and so does shit


Don’t act normal when you want him back

Don’t say you have moved on when you have not

Don’t date men and still look for him

You still want to make it work and don’t deny that

Just take your time and shake yourself up

Remember the expensive heels that you

never wore but regret buying anyways

Love happens when you least expect it

and so does shit anyways”

So if love is, being there for another person while things are good and then sprinting, the minute things get bad, that is not “Love”

Courtesy- TinyBuddha



When Gender is the demon……… #GenderDysphoria

First i want to make some points crystal clear before you read:

Gender dysphoria is not the same as gender nonconformity, which refers to behaviors not matching the gender norms or stereotypes of the gender assigned at birth. Examples  include occasional cross-dressing in adult men. Gender nonconformity is not a mental disorder. Gender dysphoria is also not the same being gay/lesbian.

Gender dysphoria used to be called “gender identity disorder.” But the crisis of identity associated with gender is not the mental illness,Instead, what need to be addressed are the stress, depression that come along with this dysphoria.

How to identify Gender Dysphoria

In children, these symptoms may include:

  • Consistently saying they are really a girl even though they have the physical traits of a boy or really a boy if they have the physical traits of a girl
  • Strongly preferring friends of the sex with which they identify
  • Rejecting the clothes, toys, and games typical for boys or girls
  • Refusing to urinate in the way — standing or sitting — that other boys or girls typically do
  • Saying they want to get rid of their genitals
  • Believing that even though they have the physical traits of a girl they will grow up to be a man; or believing if they have the physical traits of a boy they will still be a woman when they grow up
  • Having extreme distress about the body changes that happen during puberty

Why it’s important: Studies suggest that 71% of people with gender dysphoria end up being chronically depressed or schizophrenic and have abnormal sexual life leading to marked proportion of 23% ending in suicides.


Boys don’t Cry: Based on a true story, Boys Don’t Cry was adapted from the life of Brandon Teena, born Teena Brandon, a woman who chose to live her life as a man and suffered tragic consequences as a result. A true story about hope, fear, and the courage it takes to be yourself, Boys Don’t Cry is critically acclaimed love story. Brandon falls in love with a beautiful girl named Lana, and there’s an undercurrent question that’s never quite answered as we wonder if Lana knows that Brandon is still physically female.Starring Hilary Swank and Chloe Sevigny, this is an excellent, brutal and unforgettable film.

Hedwig and the angry inch : Ok i am smitten by this movie.I’ve  watched this one over and over . It’s a love story, a glam-rock musical, a comedy, a search for meaning, a journey of discovery and a story about loneliness and redemption.

This story begins with Hansel, the child of a German mother and American-soldier father, being raised behind the Berlin wall. As he grows up, his love of glamor and rock music only grows, so when he meets a handsome American soldier and falls in love, he gets his opportunity to escape from behind the wall. But in order to leave as his soldier’s bride, he must take his mother’s passport and pass a physical exam. And here Hedwig is born.

The gender-change surgery is botched, leaving him with only “an angry inch,” and eventually losing him the love of his soldier (who is pictured loving big sausages and we’ll leave it at that). Living alone in a trailer park, Hedwig is depressed and lonely. Working as a grocery checkout girl and babysitter, he falls for the young son of an officer, and they write beautiful music together. Until his boyfriend runs off with all the songs and becomes a rock star…

Daayra : In this path breaking film directed by Amol Palekar, Nirmal Pandey plays a transvestite who comes in contact with a rape victim. Helming a sensitive story, he personifies human relationships that go beyond narrow identities. So far, he is the only actor to bag a National Award for Best Actress.

Talk to us, leave a comment or mail to us if you want to have a word on abuse or mental health. Share your stories of being victorious at “The Bachpan Project.” and help people deal with their demons.

The goal is not to change how the person feels about his or her gender. Instead, the goal is to deal with the distress that may come with those feelings being non judgmental.



सब कहते हैं कि तुम यहाँ नहीं हो

चलती हूँ एक अर्धनिद्रा में
टटोलती हूँ तुम्हारे चेहरे को
बनाती हूँ कुछ तुम जैसा
हवा में
और ढूँढती हूँ तुम्हें
उस चेहरे में
दिखता है तुम्हारा अक्स
तारों की तरह
दूर तक फैले
टिमटिमाते हुए
पर रोशनी नहीं
और जब कुहासा छाये
छिप जाते हैं
अंधेरे की चादर ओढ़े
उस अघड़ तस्वीर में
टाँक देती हूँ तुम्हारी वो
आधी मुस्कुराहट
जिसके पीछे दुबक के
बैठा होता है लाड़
मुझे इशारा करते हुये
चुप रहने का, कम हँसने का
तुम्हारी बेमतलब की झिड़की
सर्दी के धूप सरीखी
सुनहरी, मुलायम
इतराते हुए जो आँगन में आये
कुछ हड़बड़ी में
वापस जाने को परेशान
एक अकेली कुर्सी पर
जब एक अकेली चाय पीते
सुबह की अंगड़ाई में
देखती हूँ
उसी धूप के टुकड़े
को हर मौसम
बिल्कुल वैसा
तुम्हारा न होकर भी यहाँ होना
न चाहे उग आये बथुआ की तरह
फर्श पर बिखरे हुये
बाल्कनी पर पड़ी टूटी कुर्सी पर
बैंगनी रंग के फूलों वाली चादर पर
एक बड़े से कॉफी मग में
आईने के किनारे लगी लाल बिंदी में
हर कोने में तो छितरे पड़े हो
और सब कहते हैं कि तुम
यहाँ नहीं हो
I am writing this for the blogchatter prompt “Without You” in Hindi.

Dear Blog…………I love you

This valentine’s day we are taking our blog love to the next level with Blogchatter where i take on the baton of Blog Love from Deepali , read her at


So it’s valentine’s day round the corner and the world around is filled of love filled notes, cute little hearts and so much sweetness. I write this letter to my blog because i have loved it and it has loved me back with much more than i could ask for.

Dear Blog

You have grown up now, from a poorly structured “What a life to be”( Ah, those age of pen names), to turning into travel blogger to now a grown up ready to enter a college with now a self hosted blog. (Oh i talk like your mother already).

Dear Blog i started you at a point of betrayal in my life, my escape point was writing so i moved over from a diary to a blog. And i am so happy that i did it. You gave me my first writing award when it was long back that i had left my writing. You lifted me up in my moments of failures and disappointments. You were always there to listen to my rantings, you were always there to support. You gave me whatever little name i have got. You gave me amazing friends. You became viral and i connected to Paulo Coelho. You got me onboard National Geographic Channel, a tv serial….and the list is long.You gave Pooja Tripathi a name among this world wide web world.

Dear blog, you know what’s my favorite memory. I attended wedding of a friend in Bhopal and when my school friend (the bride) introduced me to her in laws family ( her brother in law ) she said “she is my friend Pooja. she is a doctor”, the brother in law screamed “Are you Pooja Tripathi?” I said yes……

“Oh mam, i am a huge fan of your writings, i love your blogs. “

He made me talk to his girlfriend on phone with a child like glee.

Thank you my blog for giving me my own story worthy moments.

I love you to moon and back. I really do.

Till death do us apart.


Wanderer Wordweaver Woman.

Passing on the baton to Tina, read her wonderful post on:


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.