The Rebelle blog

It is difficult to please everyone. Especially, your mother, seniors at work, colleagues, friends, siblings! Teachers too. No matter how polite you've been to them during your college days- they'll scarcely recognize a bit and reciprocate your friendly smile when you visit college after you've graduated. I was so dejected today morning. And, writing a blog seemed to work, until I wrote here. Rereading this and all those unwanted memories come flashing back to me. I know I am not perfect. No one is! That should definitely not be the reason for my mother to tell me to opt for an eye surgery- Laser eye operation. Now, I've been wearing glasses for almost 13 years now. So, it naturally just feels like a part of my body. I can't imagine going back to a life without glasses. When I was growing up, I thought I was ugly. I still sometimes do. And the day I wore my glasses first to school, it felt great- felt different. Maybe, its weird for others to understand. O

“ You are not your bra-size, nor are you the width of your waist, nor are you the slenderness of your calves. You are not your hair color, your skin color, nor are you a shade of lipstick. Your shoe-size is of no consequence. You are not defined by the amount of attention you get from males, females, or any combination thereof. You are not the number of sit-ups you can do, nor are you the number of calories in a day. You are not your mustache. You are not the hair on your legs. You are not a little red dress. You are no amalgam of these things.  You are the content of your character. You are the ambitions that drive you. You are the goals that you set. You are the things that you laugh at and the words that you say. You are the thoughts you think and the things you wonder. You are beautiful and desirable not for the clique you attend, but for the spark of life within you that compels you to make your life a full and meaningful one. You are beautiful not for the shape of the vessel, bu

I met a stranger at the railway station today morning. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I am reading "Snow" by Orhan Pamuk, with fixed attention and completely engrossed as I always am while reading. Suddenly, someone sits next to me; oblivious to the thump on the seat, I continue to read. And, then comes a question. I look up, give an answer and suddenly he starts talking. Quite into a conversation mood do we slip in; and my book gets closed. When I reply to a question as to what do I study, he is surprised by my answer. "I am an Architect", I say and he says, "I am into Construction, a builder-developer!" One thing and the other, we get talking about the transport systems, built-environment in Mumbai suburbs, building materials, my architecture philosophy and training. When I tell him, I also intend to teach he says, "I would love to become your student." Then we t

I was reading some old mails and the conversations with one of my friends cracked me up. It made me laugh heartily, reminded me of my naivety, and his kindness. We exchanged stories, poems, songs and books read/to-read lists... I reminisce about that nice time in our lives barely 6 years ago. Today, we are no longer in touch with each other.. I would like to, but I think some people really come into our lives only for a short time yet they fill our lives with such wisdom and genuine kindness; it feels like time perhaps needed to freeze itself. If I had the power to do so, I definitely would; not knowing of the future of our friendship. I think this often happens with me. I befriend someone and we share great conversations and memories which I think will last forever, but they don't. It used to pain me and also depress me knowing all the nice people I knew were leaving me one after another. But now I've grown up. I still think of all my friends who came into my life

Sometimes I wish I didn't think in words  and that instead for each thought I thought I drew upon an image,  and that I was able to organize each image in a linear way that would be like sort of like reading  and that instead of trying to describe the edges around something  I could just think the color around the edges of the image to be darker,  that the detail on the image could become more or less detailed depending on how much clarity I believe I needed to disclose at the time  For instance, instead of saying love, I could just think watermelon  I could just think of a watermelon cut in half, laying open on a picnic table  The inside would be just as moist as it was pink  I could picture cutting up pieces and giving them out to my friends.  It wouldn't have to be sunny  It wouldn't have to be anything else then just that  It would really simplify my walk home at night,  where every thought I think is some contrived line I repeat over and ove