Sunday 10th June saw two mega back to back events at The Park, Delhi. An all women’s Indiblogger meet sponsored by Dove #hairaware attended by 100+ bloggers from Delhi/ NCR was the first one. A few bloggers specially came from gustation to be part of the grand event.
I had mixed feelings about the meet but the excitement to meet old friends and new was overpowering. It also meant relaxed fun time which I needed badly. My elder one, an indiblogger himself, accompanied me as we had to attend the second meet by Spice Mobiles too. A whole Sunday devoted to just sheer pampering.
The stage was already set when we registered and soon the introductions began.
As the introductions began I realized how large the women blogger community had become. Food, art, personal musings, poetry, fiction, technology, photography, fashion, you name it and there were women passionately blogging about it in the capital. A proud feeling to see women finding their voice and expressing themselves.
The Dove Girls
Lights Camera Action
After 60 seconds of fame the gorgeous bloggers talked about hair problems, real beauty and other things.
We wrote about how meets can be made better. Exchanged views from other bloggers and discussed it.
I loved the spunk, the confidence, the spirit of life and the love for what she is, in this young blogger. “What is real Beauty?” They asked. “I am” , she said. Without make up, designer wear and any of the beauty products and accessories. .. Real beauty is with in. YES . It Is. .. Proud of you girl. Would love to connect with her. Shout out for you dear girl..
Happy smiling faces .. It is all about being oneself .
Friendships are made here .
Lights camera Action
Love Dove smile :p
The gorgeous Inditeam with Dove T shirts. These girls worked hard to make it all a grand event. Cheers to all the team members. You rock. 😀
The kids had a blast. Yes, they were all there , from toddlers to big boys :p
😀 The big kid who along with his mom won a gift voucher of 5,000 bucks. Proud moment for me. Adi has been a pillar of strength to me in all those difficult years. Love you my boy.
Engrossed in one thing or the other. I met some of my twitter friends here. What a joy it is to meet people who were just names some time ago.
How can we have better blogger meet? Some very interesting suggestions came up and I hope they will be implemented. Blogger meets MUST have discussion on various topics that people write about, their experiences, tips to new bloggers, any other topics related to blogging , personal experiences and much more .
Indian by Birth . Blogger by choice .
The gift hamper we all got.
And the Tea/ coffee and lunch was on the house 😀
The stand up comedy act which was a tad boring for some of us.
Anoop , a gracious compare . He never left an opportunity to make us laugh.
And who had the longest most beautiful hair ? Rapunzel ?
Loveliness all around
Am waiting for the official picture to be released. The group photographs of all the gorgeous women bloggers.
The credits for All these pictures goes to IHM and Aabha Midha . Thank you ladies for sharing them.
Still longing for more .. Hop over to IHM’s blog .. There is more in store for you there
‘beauty is as beauty does’ 😀
I hope there will be more official and unofficial meet now. More women will step out of their cocoon and share their views with the world. It changed my course of life, changed me as a woman, as a person. It helped me unfold my resilient petals. Hope it does the same for many others.
Thank you Indiblogger team for standing by me. Means a lot.
The biggest ever Blogger meet took place just an hour after this one .. check out the Spice Mobiles #secureandroid Meet Here
This Thursday the theme is Empty (House, Room, Playground, Glass, Container, Chair,…)
This is known to be the last enclosed garden tomb and was built in 1753-54 as the mausoleum of Safdarjang, the viceroy of Awadh, (a place near Lucknow). A lesser known landmark of Delhi , it is made in the same style as the Humayun’s Tomb though it’s not that impressive .
The tomb is made of buff-colored sandstone with the intermittent use of red sandstone and marble. The central structure has double-storeyed minarets in the corners and a bulbous dome made of marble.
According to one account the arches and domes, were brought to India from Turkey and Persia.
Delhi has a rich heritage of these ancient monuments. It is awe-inspiring to watch these structures as they serve as testaments to Delhi’s illustrious past.
It all began in the depth of night when the city was in deep slumber. The ferocious wind began to howl and scream as it rose between the high-rise like a phantom and hissed passed the trees and ground. The smell of thunder hung heavy in the air and soon the night was nothing but a cacophony of rattling window panes, banging doors and thundering clouds. A nerve-racking sound of smashed glass got the attention of some dazed people as they scurried to gather their belongings which the wind was threatening to take away. The electricity went off plunging the area in further darkness.
I gasped for breath in bitter air dull of sand while I struggled to pull a shutter that clung to the wall and wont budge as if scared to death. I cursed and let it be.
It sure was a relief from the merciless heat that was driving people nuts and an assurance of a cool nice weekend. I lay quietly in my bed trying to decipher the sounds that reverberated outside.
Slowly the intensity of the storm receded and soon heat gave way to dismal rain. The delicate intoxicating fragrance of the mogra and mixed with the humousy smell of damp earth began to filter in from the open window. I poured myself a glass of chilled water and looked out at the waves of darkness.
Slowly the sleep took over and it was calm inside and outside.
I stepped out early morning to inspect the damage of the night storm. Broken branches, fallen trees, everything covered in a fine film of dust. Shattered window panes all told the story of past night. Yet, people seemed happy and relived. Many of them were out in their balconies or gardens sipping the first tea of tea laced with milk, sugar and ginger.
The trees looked shaken but not stirred. They stood dozing in the gentle breeze tired after the night’s battle.
I made a big mug of coffee and looked out in silence as the world around me began to wake up.
The fury of the storm had subsided but nature was not done yet. The sun which had emerged from h
is hideout was soon pushed behind a veil of haze. The storm was rising again from distant grey blue horizon. Soon everything was filled by the dust kicked up by the wind. The rain filled clouds struggled to hold their place. Once again the ghostly orchestra began to fill the morning made more mysterious by the whooshing sound of the wind. This time I wanted to witness the scene. Braving the wind which wanted to sweep me off my feet from the ninth floor balcony I firmly gripped the railing and watched the pigeons sail along propelled entirely by the wind. Aimless and confused they floated along with various other things like newspapers, plastic bags, leaves etc. A colorful leaflet of Pizza Hut came hurling towards the balcony, slapped against the wall and stayed their shivering like a malaria patient. I released it and it went floating to another destination.
The storm has scattered the crows that were roosting in the trees and they all sang in a shrill chorus. I found it much melodious than the sound of cooing love-sick pigeons who made out in the balcony all day long.
At the ground level trees were swaying like they had been hit by a seizer. Dogs ran in search of safe place. The deserted streets began to fill with daily life.
I wondered if the clouds will bring rain or they the gutsy winds will win over them leaving us high and dry. It ended as quickly as it started. The wind-swept rain began to fall in sheets like gauze curtains cleaning the side walks , the vehicles, buildings , roads and trees.
After sweltering days and soaring temperatures it really made the weekend special. I can see colorful bundles of joy playing football or cricket in the small open patches in the colony. Here at home another round of coffee has begun and there is a sense of calm all around
I sit quietly listening to the soul-stirring voice of Nina Simon . My body warmed by her velvety voice and the coffee in my hands.