Zealot Readers: The Easter Bunny Conspiracy by William F.Powers JR...

Zealot Readers: The Easter Bunny Conspiracy by William F.Powers JR...: Title : The Easter Bunny Conspiracy Author: William F.Powers JR. Genre: Humorous Fiction Age-Group: Young Adult Publisher: iUniver...

Story Telling; A Fascinating Experience

Some experience are cathartic. Organising a story session for little kiddos was one such experience for me. 

Such wondrous expressions! such giggles! such open smiles! They pierced deep inside me. The little kids were so excited that I could see the animation in their faces. 

It was a collaborative effort with Pratham Books - a not for profit children's book publisher to inculcate and encourage reading habit among the young readers.

The children trickled in hesitating and I too was apprehensive as to whether I shall be able to hold their attention. They were not all familiar to each other but were open and mingled so fast with each other that my opinion about kids being innocent and free of any prejudices that we adults get bugged with, was reinforced.

The story was about Paplu a giant with a big heart, the dacoit Angaar and their travails. The most interesting part for the kids was when they realised that the giant had no clothes and had hidden in the jungle till the village folks made him a kurta pyjama with rags. 

As the story ended they were totally involved and finished the story with a big shout in unison. 

The most wondrous part was that when I offered them coke and some food they took it only after finishing the activity lined out for them: to colour a sketch of the Paplu's kurta pyjama in different colors. Shows how dedicated they can be when they choose to, after all there was the prized book to be won. 

They wanted to read the story themselves, see the pictures and learn new words. I was satisfied that they enjoyed my session and didn't get bored. Also I could see that they were now more open to and interested in reading, the main purpose of the enterprise. 

Definitely a very satisfying and wholesome experience for me. It was a specially appropriate contribution by me as a part of the literary set and a parent on International Literacy day

Validation by the Dalai Lama himself

Couldnt help posting: it so validates my post of today!!!!!!!!

Post by Practicing the Presence through Mind and Meditation.

Success and Failure

Who do you consider successful in life and who is a failure?Who in the world sets these standards? How do we set the benchmark?Are these two terms relative to each other?

Now these thoughts might be surfacing in my almost 40 year old mind due to mid-life crisis or due to hormonal changes because up until last year I thought of myself as a survivor. I had been working hard despite the circumstances, making something out of nothing and providing love, support and care to those around me.Having chucked a regular job for the well being of the family- believe me it was crucial- and not having regretted it till date. 

But suddenly today I am confused about it. When I look back at the past years I cannot accept that I have been a failure but when I compare it with others around me I don't see myself as a success too. Gandhi said “Satisfaction lies in the effort, not in the attainment. Full effort is full victory.” 

Is it really enough, making full efforts? Again, how do you know if more effort was required?Is success measured only by five figure monthly income, a big car, a big house and lots of disposable income?And no I am not deriding those who had the potential,ambition and the single-mindedness to have worked hard to reach these levels. All I am saying is that there cannot be and should not be comparison. It should be your own goal, your own benchmark and your own volition to decide. Your own cake to bake and enjoy- depends on you if see how big and beautiful it is or how nice it smells and tastes!! 

Is success directly proportional to happiness?? Are these hugely successful people really happy? They may be or they might not be. Maybe that is not the question after all. Our own happiness is determined by our own attitude towards our life goals. I am happy now as compared to five years back because I have been able to rebuild my life, thanks to some really great people in my life and some good solid friends. I have a house, a car that I drive and some disposable income, not in millions but helps me through my needs and desires.

Maybe now is the time to take another turn in life and try and achieve the material success and status in life, meaning; earn more money, buy a bigger house, own more jewelry, clothes, gadgets, shoes and bags than what I already have,travel to destination holidays and cities. (I really would like the last one. Maybe it is not really material after all!!)

But I doubt if Ill make it, because I lack ambition. I am really happy with the smaller things in life. Like A nice stroll in the garden in my commonplace sweatpants and running shoes...yeah! coz i can still break into a run, sitting in a corner and writing a poem, reading a good book, doing yoga, meditating, eating butter chicken, chatting with friends and dreaming that my child will also be a happy and easy soul like me.

Who knows if Ill be successful ever!!! but happy I am!!

Zealot Readers: Shades of Sin:Behind the Mask - A Collection of Sh...

Zealot Readers: Shades of Sin:Behind the Mask - A Collection of Sh...: Title :Shades of Sin: Behind the Mask Author: Various(Vivek Bannerjee, Upneet Grover,Saksham Aggarwal, Aanandita Chawla,Vrinda Baliga, S...

Zealot Readers: Wise Enough To Be Foolish by Gauri Jayaram

Zealot Readers: Wise Enough To Be Foolish by Gauri Jayaram: Title :Wise Enough to be Foolish Author: Gauri Jayaram Publisher : Jaico Publishing House Genre: Fictionalised Memoir It’s a cand...

साल इक बीता बिना तुम्हारे

सुर की समझ तो  थी पहले भी

सीखा तुमसे बोल पिरोना

गीत हैं बिखरे बिना तुम्हारे

साल इक बीता बिना तुम्हारे

हर सू वैसे रंग ही रंग थे

सीखा तुमसे रंग सजाना

अब रंग फीके बिना तुम्हारे

साल इक बीता बिना तुम्हारे

राहें चलती थी तुम बिन भी

 सीखा तुमसे राह पे चलना

मोड़ हर सूना बिना तुम्हारे

साल इक बीता बिना तुम्हारे

जीवन हमको जी ही रहा था

सीखा तुमसे जीवन जीना

और अब जीना बिना तुम्हारे

साल इक बीता बिना तुम्हारे

This is a remembrance for Asheesh Sharma...My closest friend, a pure soul who touched my life in a magical way when I needed it most and an exemplary Pilot in the IAF!! You live in our hearts Asheesh... Souls like you can never perish

My Lone Star

You come to me

A solitary lone star

In the dark unlit night

A piercing sharp ray

With your aural light

Shoots down to my toes

It touches my heart

In its decrepit dark nook

And my soul is all aglow

I still stand alone

full of your warmth

And the night turns bright

PS: I had heard that a poem came to you this one did!!!

My Tryst with Yoga!!

Do meditation, yoga or gymming for that matter help you become a better person?

For once in life I have a lot of time in my hand and an urgent need to be fit what with suddenly finding out that I have a thyroid disorder, lo and behold all this while I was thinking that I am gaining the kilos because I eat Kurkure.

Going to the gym definitely makes you fit. One of my best pals swears by the cardio and weight training routine and says Yoga is not for her because its too sedate. Another day I was reading a book by Gauri Jayaram and she also said the same thing, so Payal - you stand validated.

I tried to go to the neighbourhood fitness center too- oh! what a strain my muscles took.My arms still ache when I think of the dumbbells. After the first three months I never renewed the subscription! Not my cup of tea..I like cake with it. 

I found yoga my best friend. It stretches , shapes and tones me while also making me calm and peaceful and hence happy. It gives my day a nice fresh start. Its cardiovascular as well as mild weight training rolled in one. But the best benefit is the peace it brings you. Doing my asansas and pranayam first thing in the morning makes me happy, channelises my raw energy and makes me a better person to deal with (I am known to be difficult person!! Something many people, specially my buddies will vouch for)

And now to take it further I am learning to meditate..tough ask I tell you. for someone who was good at studies but never could never score due to lack of concentration, (Hey! I still always made it to top 5 though and I wish I had taken our yoga teacher more seriously) its sheer torture to sit at one place and close your eyes and try to think of nothing and breathe. But its showing results...for starters I have stopped raising my voice  and I try hard to think at least twice before losing my cool. 

The best thing that this heady mixture of yoga and meditation has done to me is that I don't fight back, I don't argue (now I just choose to glare quietly but intensely at the concerned person) and I have learnt to let things be!! I have learnt to focus on what is good for me and recognise what is bad energy. 

Fitting into my old University jeans of course is the cherry on the cake- (I want a devilishly happy grinning emoticon here :D !!!)

So I want to share with those who care to read me that its plain good- Yoga made ME calmer , more focused and fitter- so many of you can try. Though if like some, you find Gym more fruitful please dont laugh out loud . And i would be lying if I didn't tell you that I do go for a walk-run in the evening (5 minutes walk and 2 minutes run at intervals for only 25 minutes).

So here's to be a fitter and better person!!!

The Turn

I turn the turn and look for you

Like in the picture-riddle, where

We used to find a missing person

And win the coveted prize

The turn where, walking fingers locked

We had emerged one day, suddenly

From the winding lanes in the green

knowing we had to part our ways

The turn where you told me to go

Nudging me gently on, coaxing

With a touch in the small of my back

And watched till I disappeared

All is still there, the green and the road  

But the touch in the small of my back

And YOU; my coveted prize are lost, 

Yet, I turn the turn and look for you.

Review of True by Melinda Field...

True by Melinda Field
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

A breathtaking book! That’s how one would describe “True”. In a plot that resembles life itself, this book takes you on a wonderful journey of birth and death, making you realise the inevitability of both.

Caterina, a teenage girl is forced to leave the city of Phoenix, when her mother is sent to prison for prostitution and drug dealing. She has to go and live with her ailing grandmother whom she has never ever seen. The Green Valley in California is a cold and forbidding place for the young girl who is not welcomed in the small tight knit community. The story describes how racial prejudice and stereotyping brings her life on the edge of a dangerous precipice.

Just then she is taken in by Emma Cassidy , a midwife. Emma and her circle of horse-women friends pull Caterina inadvertently in their close knit sisterhood helping her overcome the life shaking incident and live a secure life. Caterina with her innate strength of character and determination emerges a winner from her ordeal.

The story gives us a touching portrayal of the eternal and deep friendship between Emma, Briar, Lilly, Clare and Midnight and how each faces her own battles of life. An illness makes Briar the ‘Clairvoyant’ and everyone around her becomes a student of life. Lilly and Clare, sisters, have to undergo pain because of their mother who has to live away from them. Additionally Clare finally chins up to an abusive husband. Midnight has her own demons to fight . Emma also sees an upheaval late in life when the old love she had brushed aside surfaces again.

The story weaves these absolutely believable characters and situations in beautiful tapestry. It strengthens the belief in love, friendship and humanity by its portrayal of the lives of these wonderful women who become each other’s guiding light and support. The pangs of loss, the pain of death and the fact that life is ever- ongoing is touchingly brought to fore. The cyclical plot brings takes the reader on a travail of birth and death, restoring the faith in love and life. The language is lucid and flowing. The weather, scenery, animals, farm life and wildlife come alive with vibrant description and imagery.

One can see glimpses of our own life and our own quest for the meaning of it all at many places. That is a measure of the author’s wisdom and deep understanding of life. True is indeed a novel not to be missed.


View all my reviews

The Raindrops' Song

On my glass windowpane

The raindrops only patter

Now it is all only noise

The symphony has been lost

The tune has long gone

The notes only chatter

Gone with the smoke

The song has vapourised

Some say it is ethereal

Some say it is most abused

Love is only a delusion

No one has ever seen

I had held it in my fingers

Had savoured it in my mouth

Had heard it whispered in my ear 

When he spoke to me in the night

In the twinkle of those eyes

In the corners of that smile

In the throbbing heartbeat

When I knotted the neck-tie

But back then I had also heard

The symphony, the music

The song of the falling raindrops

On my glass windowpane

The Soul Never Stops or Forgets

A book with yellowed pages

A perfumed handkerchief

A crinkled chocolate wrapper

And the iced tea that cooled

My throat and your anger

A missed call stored

A text message saved

A mail with a picture archived

And the conversation that warmed
My heart and your soul

A song posted on a site

A remedy to cure my back ache

A joke to make me smile

And the finger you deliberately cut

For me to kiss, for you to sigh

A crooked winking smile

A stolen sparkling look

A friendly pat on the head

And the single hug that smothered

Forever, desires mine and yours

Have been lying on my pillow

Each night since you left

Numbing my mind and heart

Making me sleep and start

But today I gathered them all

And poured them in my soul

Believing what Rumi once said

The Soul will never stop or forget.

Fast Money

Fast Money: it is a term largely unfamiliar to our generation and definitely foreign to people before that. It is the wealth generated with primarily unfair means which the young ones follow to achieve a coveted end; their bottomless abyss of desires...

The college going youth these days NEED swanky cars and high-end gadgets like mobile phones and lap tops. They NEED credit cards to pay bills at restaurants and take girlfriends for shopping. The difference here is they need it when they have not still reached the stage where they have earned the moolah

"So what! Our parents have!!"..is the refrain when you try to reason with them. The irony is that those whose parents either can't or won't allow this uninhibited splurging take to unfair means like stealing, fraud, credit card thefts, forgery and even murder.

Being a teenager's mother, I get shivers down my spine when I read news items where young boys steal and sell motorcycles to be able to take their girlfriends to posh restaurants and shopping malls or when to-be engineers with a promising career and ample talent are lead astray to engage in wheeling and dealing with fake currency. Stealing mom's jewellery or raiding dad's pockets is not even considered theft by these youngsters.

Are they solely to be blamed for this love of THINGS and BRANDS? Are they to be blamed for indulging in this rat-race where their clothes, shoes, phone, laptop and credit card limits are the factors that make or mar their image?

No! I think that we are as much to be blamed as parents. It is we, our generation of go-getters who have instilled this materialism in our children. Our parents, those who were born in late 40s and 50s and their parents, worked hard when the nation was re-building itself. They considered it bliss if they were able to buy a TV set and a two wheeler. We got a platform from where we built our lives but we had to make our own efforts and fight our own battles.  In turn we are the ones who were fiercely competitive and materialistic.

This reflects in the way we have brought up our children. Just like our home had to have the best decor, better than what Mrs. Sharma had, our child also had to go to the best convent school in the city regardless that the said school was no longer the best in terms of either results or environment. Then he demanded that he had to go the school in a big-chauffeur driven car because all other children did so and his birthday party had to be at the trendiest joint in the city and we gave in. We didn't mind or did we? After all he was the apple of our eyes.

In progression we provide them with the X-boxes and PSPs and NIKE sports gear and everything that our money can buy. But what we forget is to make them understand the effort, hard work and stress that goes behind dad's credit card limit. We forget to teach them the value of this success and wealth. Is it their fault then that they take it and us for granted?

By the time we realise our folly, it is too late. They don't want to work on their own to satisfy their need and desires. They don't have the patience to wait for their careers to flourish. They just need everything now and here irrespective of the source where the money comes from.

The fire in their bellies is not of ambition but desire and when the fuel from parental sources dries up, as it eventually would , they take to unfair means. Its like an addiction, you have to have the drug- beg, borrow or steel and then they fall in the quagmire of crime to quench this thirst.The line between material success and crime is very thin- crime is the easiest path to achieve it

We as young parents should remember to instil the right values of hard-work, toil and patience in our child.We should, first of all, ourselves set an example by giving up the fierce materialism and competitiveness that we have developed in our generation. The 'comparison' culture should be abandoned. We have to outgrow this attitude.

We should inspire them to achieve the heights that they desire to soar to through rightful means and teach them the true value of honesty and integrity. Saying that, it should not be an excuse for shirking responsibility and not giving them the basic platform and support which nourishes them to have a fruitful and fulfilling life.

Also goes without saying that we should encourage them to be achievers but on their own steam and see to it that they are clever, kind and loving instead of being cunning, mean and selfish.

सुबह क़ी चाय

सुबह सपने में आँख खुली तब

खुद को तुम्हारे घर के सोफे पे पाया

अकेली ही बैठी चाय पी रही थी

तुम तो अपने कमरे में अब तक

सो रहे थे, इतवार का दिन जो हुआ

आज के दिन सोना तुम्हारी ज़िद्द थी

फिर सोचा कि तुम्हे जगा दूं अब

आख़िर एक ही दिन तो है आज मिला 

पिछले कई दिन से तो अकेली ही थी

चाय ले कर तुम्हारे सिरहाने पहुँची जब

तो रुक जाऊं, सोने दूं एक मन किया

मगर फिर थोड़ा स्वार्थी हो गयी थी

गीले बाल तुम्हारे काँधे पे फैलाए जब

तुमने सोई सी आँखे खोलकर देखा

और उनमे कुछ देखकर शर्मा गयी थी

इतने दिन का एकाकीपन छू हुआ तब

जब तुमने अपनी बाहों में भर लिया

और फिर मेरी आँख खुल गयी थी

देखा वही मेरा सूना घर है अब

न सोफा न बिस्तर न ही चाय

स्वप्न ही था, तो ये क्या सोच रही थी

A Rant.

Can I live in isolation?

Away from all these people who expect me to be the super woman,wife,daughter and sister. Who want me to there for them when they need me and then cast me aside whenever they feel like it.

There are so many people in the world who are secure in their parents love but not the 'lucky me' because my own father loves his dear son to perfection and so his wife and children are in eternal protection of the scion of the family. Enjoying the comforts and luxuries while both do nothing to earn, why should they deign to work?? 

I have no right to his wealth since I chose to marry on my own. I am no longer his responsibility. But I am responsible to them. I am called upon only when the services of a chauffeur or a man-Friday is needed. Another occasion for me being called up are family functions where daughters should be present otherwise questions will be asked. Then there is the brother who turns up only when he needs money and these days he doesn't even need that. His wife tops them all with so much respect and love that she gives me and my child when we do turn up at the parents' house (an event that sets her heart on fire) that I rue the day I was born in this house.

The husband needs you only to cook, clean and have the house in order. Sexual satisfaction is a service for me and obligation for him. How can I be such a slut, asking for sex?  And I don't earn (all my services in the house being unpaid) so I don't have any rights to raise my voice or objection, forget being asked for an opinion. Taking a cue the mother-in-law behaves as if I don't exist. She talks only to her faithful and loyal son and her affection and services are reserved for her own dear daughter. Both conveniently forget that I chucked up a promising career twice for the family's sake, specifically when his father was diagnosed as terminally ill. For three months I nursed him, visited the hospitals with him, tried to bring him peace of mind and broke my back and a re-surging career in the process while his own wife turned her back and slept when he was moaning in pain. 

Now when I have taken up writing- a passion long suppressed- all I do is "sit with the laptop and do facebooking" (if there's such a term??). Meeting friends is taboo because he can't keep any and I then automatically lose the right to have any.  Reading books or listening to music is foreign to his being and thus a wasteful indulgence. Culture?-what bird is that?? 

Wearing good clothes and putting on make-up is an indication that I am probably going to meet up with an ex-boyfriend (The slut that I am). Shopping for branded clothes is like asking for a solitaire...so imagine what would asking for one entail. 

Yes I am ranting... because these are complaints you can't take to the police.

The modern urban fathers, brothers and husbands have taken up these means to harass and discriminate against their daughters,sisters and wives. Can anyone tell me how to fight this subtle torture which gnaws at you and you cant even cry out in pain?

All I have realised is that I should have never sacrificed my career. Now I will not give up writing and once I get independent- Ill rent a cottage, pile it with books, clothes, music, films and live there with these inanimate things which won't suck my life out of my being.

An Eternal Heaven

We have one form in this world, 
Another in the next. 
To us belongs an eternal heaven, 
The endless delight of you and I. ~Rumi

Lying in the cold and a little damp bed all alone, Anjali was too lost even to wipe the hot tears streaming down her face wetting her pillow.

The night was getting colder by the minute. It was usually the case in late September in this beautiful city by the foothills. The nights got cooler and less humid as winter approached. Cold, dry and dull weather was approaching fast. Her moods were getting colder too, just like her empty bed.

She hated winter; it brought in shorter days, loads of bulky dull clothes, dry skin and parched lips. Saraansh hated it even more . Otherwise disciplined and punctual, he just wouldn't move out of the bed on a Sunday in such weather

This winter was especially going to be cruel. Bright sunshine, vivid colours and the happiness of summer was to be sorely missed and the prospect of loneliness was gnawing at the fringes of her existence.

It had been as morose a day as was the night and Anjali couldn’t get past the depressing ache in her chest. A dull continuous physical pain was all that she could feel. She felt as if her heart had been ripped away and all that was left was an empty hole with frayed edges of skin. She had been like this once before too and Saraansh had appeared at her doorstep like an angel of love and care.

An orphan raised in a convent he was a humble young man. Plain looking with simple tastes, he appeared to be a simple down to earth boy when they were together in the management institute. He was studious, hard working and smart. He achieved corporate success in a very short span. It was a lonely life for him though- no family, very few friends and colleagues. He had taken up voluntary work with 'Prayas' an NGO which held workshops in remote and disturbed areas to educate children who couldn't attend regular school.

Anjali on the other hand was a vivacious girl. She had a wonderful parents and had led a comfortable almost decadent life. She was good at academics and ambitious. She worked hard and landed a well paying job. An attractive girl, she always had male attention which she enjoyed. A big gang of friends kept her social life busy and she lived it up to the hilt on her own terms.

They both had kept in touch over phone and internet; it was impossible not to these days.

Some years hence her life was in turmoil. She had had a torrid affair with her boss ignoring the fact that he was married. She got pregnant and he had left her in the lurch after a showdown when his wife had found out. The selfish bastard did not even own up to being the father. The grapevine was abuzz with rumours of all kind and it was destructive in such a small city. Her parents would have been shocked beyond belief but she couldn't gather the courage confide in them.

One day she was sitting all alone when Saraansh called. She sounded so upset that he decided to come over. That day was the turning point of both their lives. She poured out her anguish to him and he absorbed it all in his gentle, loving spirit.

 “You want the child?” he asked softly. “No” she replied.  “Think it over for sometime”, he said, “No” she repeated. Next day they visited the abortion clinic. He made no moral judgement and never brought up the incident again.

What he did instead was to take care of her, guide her gently towards her previous self and support her professionally. They had developed a bond now. She realised that he loved her and she had also started to depend on him emotionally. They both needed each other but she was now seeing life in different light with him. She had become calm and content and was now more inclined to helping people in need with her money, time and compassion.

That August, he decided to join the group which was volunteering in the Naxalite area. He train was to leave in the morning, so they were having dinner together. Across the kitchen counter when they were washing the dishes he simply put the plate down and came near her.

He took the towel out of her hand and said solemnly, “I want you to know that I will always be there for you but in case something happens to me be there at my funeral.”  She laughed aloud and told him not be melodramatic. Later she made him promise that he will come back to her. He repeated solemnly, “I’ll always be here.”

Today, two months later, she was imploring him to show up. But how could he? 
Killed in a shootout at the tribal school where he was teaching as a part of the workshop, he came back in a wooden box.

She received the news as the next of kin and like a zombie saw to the funeral arrangements. Many people whose lives he had touched during his lifetime attended. People came up to console her but it was no help. Silent tears had become her companions since then. 

On an evening that they had spent together, he had put a lovely film number on repeat on the little FM radio player she had gifted him on his birthday. He suddenly said “I love this song. It describes us. This is ‘our song’. Whenever you hear this just know that I am thinking of you!”

Later on they developed a habit of using Hindi film songs to describe their feelings. For the last one month now she was listening for a song that would tell her that her Saraansh was here with her.

Tonight she cried out in anguish “You had promised that you’ll be here always. Where are you now?” She outstretched her arms and suddenly she felt a tug. She opened her eyes and there he was. Standing at the foot of her bed, he pulled her up and embraced her in a warm tight hug banishing the damp and cold. He kissed her wet eyes and said, “I am here, right by your side always. I never left.”

The morning light was filling up the room and she looked outside. It was a clear day, warm with the sunshine streaming through the tall tree branches outside her window. She made his favourite ginger tea and switched on the fm player. Music echoed in the room. Suddenly she smiled “Our Song”, she thought aloud, “So it was not a dream”.

She immediately called up at Prayas and signed up for the next workshop.

The Day of Love

The Day of Love

Today is the day of love

The city is painted shades of red

Flowers and heart shape balloons

Dot the roads and cars

Pretty girls with excited faces
Wait with bated breath

I wait too….

I have an eternal wait 

A wait to the End

So I can take to task

Both God and you,

Who connived together,

To leave me alone here

Weighted with a wait

That doesn’t let me soar

Today is the day of love,

for me It’s another day gone.

On love

Valentines  Day is around the corner. The markets and the media are going crazy over Rose day, propose day, chocolate day, teddy day and many more. The poor consumers - in this case - young boys and girls getting conned by this magnificent marketing racket in which the ultimate gain is of all these companies which sell the various gifts and cards.

Red and pink flowers are selling like no other time of the year. Teddy bears and soft toys are moving off the shelves where they otherwise remain seated through out the season. Cards and gifts galleries are overflowing   with articles of no practical use.

Its sweet to celebrate love and even a day designated  for it is a great idea. We did it too, we also brought a card, a nice gift and met our dates on 14th Feb. Some even threw in a pack of chocolate also but the euphoria was limited to just that day. In the last fifteen years the Valentine Day has expanded into a the Valentine week. Its laughable.

A very simple ploy by the gifts and cards companies has revolutionised the market for them. I think the budget of the young people must be of the same magnitude as that of the corporates houses on Diwali. And God save those who have to satisfy more than one girlfriend or boyfriend.It must be such stress to keep up with the crowd! Getting the days right first of all. The week calendar would have to be noted down carefully...

February 7   : Rose Day

February 8   : Propose Day

February 9   : Chocolate DayFebruary 10 : Teddy Day

February 12 : Kiss Day

February 13 : Hug Day

February 11 : Promise Day

February 14 : Valentine Day

Then getting an appropriate present along with the appropriate couplet on probably a nice big card each day! What a pleasant exercise!!Do they then get to express the real, genuine feelings - if they harbour any in the first place. I wonder if the genuine flow of feeling even surfaces in this sea of commercialisation. 

A sweet gesture, a nice present and spending time together used to be our aim when we met our love on the coveted day. Love was the overflowing item not gifts and pockets.

A quiet dinner and a nice gift will suffice this year too. I hope my valentine doesnt expect me to give him a rose bouquet, a chocolate hamper, propose with jewellery, and a teddy would be definitely ridiculous!!!!

A promise of ever lasting love and mutual love and lots of kisses and hugs can be given anyday of the year without the frills attached. 

One Valentine day is enough as the day of love!!