Walk the talk – Temple tales

“I am an Atheist”. He said.” I do not believe in organised, ritualistic religion or God “.

I believe temples are the biggest wealth hoarders  and should be termed as business houses if not anything else and for that matter even the churches , mosques, gurudwaras and all other so-called places of worship. Can we use RTI  to question all these people who are amassing wealth in the name of religion?

I can not believe in anything that doesn’t exist like ‘ God”  if super powers are what we are talking of then I can a name a whole pantheon of superheroes who are more real to us than some non entity that lives in an abyss . I would rather  respect Nature for that matter.

Long ago before this whole class division etc happened people simply revered the nature around them then some men  devised this concept of heaven and hell to  put fear in masses and used it as  instrument of power. People use it because it is comfort beyond compare for those who do not have faith in their own abilities and a sure shot way to richness and power. Those modern-day worries have made people use religion as a crutch and that is the reason they blindly follow those babas, gurus, yada yada to the highest degree of stupidity.”

I decided to listen. It is a wonderful thing to do. A lost art too. “I would rather believe in Good than God ” I said.

“We live in an increasingly gender-neutral, technological world then how can we believe in a sham like religion.”  Except for the temples of Khajuraho I detest them all. Noisy, their air dripping of communal ism  and class/gender differences. I hate the priest who fleeces the zombies who visit these places ..zombies for they are bereft of consciousness and self-awareness, yet ambulant and able to respond to surrounding stimuli.

” The “God” sits there smeared with various things,  adorned with finest jewels and watches this crap or in some other religions He is conveniently formless. All that milk which is poured on the shivlinga can feed hundreds of malnutritioned kids.  Wonder if God knows that. I find this whole Abishekam and shringaram rituals pathetic. Such waste, and to think people pay hefty sum to be a part of this, to watch God bathe. Yikes!

People do not have faith in themselves , they do not have love for themselves and their fellow being , animals, trees , things that sustain life but they would draw blood and commit the most atrocious things like child sacrifice for a belief they can’t even explain properly. They are like those terrorists, fundamentalist who have blinkers on and one agenda – their supremacy.

I was impressed at the use of vocabulary.

“Losing an illusion is better than finding a truth”- Ludwig Borne

God loves you and he needs money.

“What made you talk about this suddenly?” I asked.

“I refused to enter the temple where granny had taken me and that brought hell right on earth at the doorstep of the temple. He laughed. “I  was lectured on how I would burn in hell for offending Him. Ah, well , who cares.All that fasting had made her irritable and in my opinion she needed food than God at that time. The best thing to do was listen and text to bro for a fake call which came promptly to my rescue.” lol It was my turn to laugh.

“Also I watch our house help pray religiously for her husbands long life and well being and in returns she gets beaten up, abused sexually, emotionally, mentally by  that drunkard day in and day out and I say to myself surely her God is deaf and pro rich and pro men , someone who can  listen only when some seth or sethani is playing raunchy bhajans based on latest film songs  by a loud speaker and offering him a big notton ki gaddi. This poor woman’s tear streaked voiced drowsed by pain and sorrow doesn’t reach his ears.  It makes me sick. ”

“I don’t see any relevance of these grand structures. Mosques, temples ,churches , I love the architectural, cultural or historical aspect  but beyond that, nothing.  It is a height of conceit to clothe some non existent God in human form and  ascribe to them our petty vanities and jealousies. Rituals, beliefs in Horo(horrors)copes, gems, stones, astrology, numerology anything that gives people that illusory hope and a name in His good books is lapped up whatever the cost may be. Sad isn’t it that we have no compassion for living but we can go to any length for some abstract thing/ person or an ambigu­ous con­cept that is not well-defined?”

“True, I hear ya”, I said munching the roasted chana( good choice, when thinking) .

“Religion is the root of all the mess in this world and the most racist, sexist , discriminatory vice of the society and the viral root cause of all evil in this world. Society will rot if this doesn’t end. Religion is a refuge ground for all the unscrupulous people, politicians,business men with number do ka paisa, criminals and many such others. I don’t think I need their company. It is a tool for gender inequality mainly oppression of women. I am perplexed at  how even eman­ci­pated women pre­fer to stay within their reli­gious faiths and strug­gle against oppres­sion, and not choos­ing to dis­card religion? Glad you discarded it long back. ” He heaved a sigh of relief.

I told him about an article from Guardian ,” Religions do a good job of training people to be obedient and loyal to the authorities and women in particular are raised to be both devout and submissive. Religions are sticky: they are hard to abandon and that is doubly true for women, given that subordination and unshakable fidelity are their chief duties.” { LINK }

Fanaticism is at t he core of all religion. A man kills100+in Oslo & is termed as “Gunman” “attacker” “Assailant” by media but If he were Muslim he would have been declared a Terrorist. Somehow the word terrorist is conveniently associated with Islam but I feel everyone who has deep-set ideas and beliefs that are rooted with age-old dogmas, rituals, religious norms has a potential terrorist trait.

“I never believed in religion. I cringe at the fact when someone says “Hindu child” “christian child” so on and so forth. I never took mine to a temple to force religion on them.  I encouraged to ask Why? and take their own stand in life, to choose what is right and acceptable to them. Today it seems I made the right choice by taking a conscious decision of not to indoc­tri­nate my boys and fill their impressionable minds with my aesthetic beliefs.

I remember a huge debate that rocked our home when my FIL decided to build a temple in his ancestral village and a room at Badri Kedar . The question which we raised was “whose temple is it anyway, yours or God’s”? It was funny to me but to the family it struck like a bolt of thunder. It also sparked another fire when I asked how a family can fast for seven days, chant bhajans in praise of the goddess, light a lamp twice a day and abuse , insult the DIL of the house ? Does the Devi grant permission for that? The question evokes responses which the Goddess  herself is still wondering about  but her devotees have forgotten conveniently.

I detest the gaudy display of wealth in these places of worship where we see the names of  people who have given “DAAN(offerings)” . It looks so crude. Is this some “name to fame”  kind of show? Something to brag about for generations to come. Birla Mandir is one such example. Poor God has been left sitting quietly on his pedestal. It is not something new, it began from the times of kings.

“People can go through an entire lifetime without questioning”, I said ,’  It’s impossible for me to believe in any of the anthropomorphic gods, because they are simply ridiculous. They are obviously the fantasy-projections of scientifically ignorant minds.”  I winked at him and said, ” may be we can believe in “Hoobanog”. “What’s that ? ” He gave me sharp look. Well Don’t ask , it is beyond explanation, a kinetic energy that I believe runs the entire show of the universe .” He laughed . ” you just coined a new term. ya well, we need to label our beliefs.”

Jokes apart I am good without God. I said as we neared the gate of our building.  I am in awe of the universe itself, and very grateful to be a part of it. That is enough..When will we grow up and be cured of this illness of  our unfounded belief  in religion and face the real tragedies and pleasures of life?

“How is your writing going? Any new assignments which will pay?” He asked suddenly.

“Huh? No, not so lucky I guess. ” I replied.

” Hey why don’t you become a priestess? It would be damn cool.. ” Tiku – the high priestess of Delhi. She has the divine power . ”

I laughed out loud ” ya,sure and trust me I will have no shortage of wealth. ”

“Absolutely, that’s the point. All you need is a few strings of rudraksha, some rings with colorful gems, a robe ( the Osho maroon is cool), a crystal ball and such other stuff plus a swanky office in posh south Delhi. How cool is that !”

“We are such fools.Adam and eve must be crazy to sow the seeds of human race”, He smiled. “Were they” whites” ? ” How come then we have so many colored people?” ” Something went wrong”?

The sun was setting behind the high-rise shopping mall across our balcony and I wasn’t in a mood to indulge in another discussion.

” Our obsession with white skin must be the by-product of that. Did anyone commit any sin to get brown, yellow, black skin?”

I  decided to enter my sound cave by putting in the ear plugs. He hugged and got busy with the laptop. That God for small mercies.. oooooops :p

Thoughts mentioned are personal and I do not wish to offend any religion, belief  or viewpoint. 

Have You Pledged Your Eyes ? Give Someone A Gift Of Sight

I am a proud eye donor . Are you?

Watch This

India has an estimated  15 million blind people out of these 4.6 million people have corneal blindness that is curable through corneal transplantation made possible by eye donation.

If the present trend continues, it is expected that the number of corneal blind people in India will increase to 8.4 million in 2010 and 10.6 million by 2020. Of these at least 3 million can be benefited by corneal transplantation. Thus, to effectively meet the ever-growing demand, we need around 150,000 corneal transplants to be performed every year. However, the current supply is only 22000 corneas per year.

The link below gives all the information you need to know about eye donation .

National Eye Bank ]

I pledged to donate my eyes long back and now my kids are ready to pledge theirs. I request my readers to come forward and  go to the nearest eye-bank or sign a pledge online to give a gift of sight to someone. Think about it… two people will be able to see the beautiful world once again with your eyes.

Make your children , your family aware of the noble cause so that they can fulfill your wish after your death. Always Carry your eye donor card with you. Start a movement . Take that first step .

The Top Of The World Feeling : Features and Interviews

This month has been  the best so far. As a blogger, as a creative writer who is learning  with every step  and as a human being I  finally managed to find some space of my own.

It filled my heart to see my work being recognised  by some well known sites. This is a moment for which I waited so long , worked so hard .

One of my poems Inner Chatter  got featured in Enchanting Verses which was like a dream come true.

WeBlog interviewed me for their launch and gave me yet another platform to showcase my work. I am thankful for this recognition.

The BlogAdda interviewPart -1


Part -2

was a pleasant surprise and an honor. This actually was the moment I had waited for all along.

I would like to thanks BlogAdda for appreciating my hard work.One reason for my blogging is to raise my voice against the pseudo social norms, the evils that are eating our society like cancer and to stand up for my rights as a woman and as a commited human being.

Gender Bytes gave me an opportunity to share a slice of my life as a daughter, as  a wife, mother and most of all as a woman .

A Daughter Dreams is my story.  A brief account of a woman’s life.

It feels good to  make a point and see that my voice counts and is heard by millions online.

Thank you Gender Bytes for giving me this space to express myself freely.

I want to thanks all my readers for their support and encouragement through out . Nothing is more important for a budding writer like me.

Thanks to friends who gave me some space on their sites  by posting my poems and articles .

Free Fall a short story at Ginger Chai

Two poems in Bamboo Lounge

and a few features in N-Zine

Thanks Neha, Rajan and Pramathesh for  allowing me to be a part of your creative world.

Do keep reading my posts and leave  your heart prints . Each comment is precious to me.

55 Word Fiction : Drug Abuse 2

She desperately tried to find a vein to inject into.

Her life ebbing away.

She had lost the battle to keep her head above water.

One final lethal dose.


Her father had missed the signs of her secret life.

He found her floating in the bath tub along with the syringe


A Love Letter : Moulsari Blossoms

Team This post has been published by me as a team member of Indiana Legends for the SUPER 6 round of Bloggers Premier League (BPL) – The first ever unique, elite team blogging event of blog world. To catch the BPL action and also be part of future editions and other contests, visit and register at Cafe GingerChai

Dear Sir,

Standing under this beautiful flowering Maulsari tree, I’m transported back in time to the poet’s corner in school. Sitting on a carpet of star like fragrant Maulsari tree a fifteen year old student listening to the teacher’s deep husky voice in rapt attention… Mesmerized, I felt alive.

My heart is filled with fond memories of the poetry/drama sessions, the steamy hot chocolate that you sent for us when we burnt the midnight oil before the exams, a teenager’s first crush on a teacher who taught English literature with such passion that it made her slide under the skin of the characters.

A surreal experience…

I remember that evening in summer when sitting with my back against the tree I had begun to recite along with you quite carried away with the poem and your voice. The class stared wide-eyed as you quietly sat in the corner amused by my sudden performance.

It was only after I finished that I understood what had happened. For days the incident made me feel embarrassed and I could not look into your eyes. It changed things overnight for me and perhaps for you. Feeling responsible and guilty in some way about your sudden decision to leave the school I escaped to a secret hideout on the day of your farewell, unable to understand whether my love was for you as a man, a poetry teacher or for the language.

Now after twenty five years I can see myself with much more clarity. Yes I was in love I wouldn’t deny it. I wanted your appreciation, affection and care which were missing in my life. I could feel the unsaid warmth and knew that you understood my desire for love and peace. My gaze followed you everywhere you went and I soaked in each word you wrote or said. I was sure you knew you were being watched and that filled me with immense pleasure.

Some moments in life are such sinful delights.

Sir, you planted the seed of love for the language I was beginning to discover and showed me the different shades of love. I still have the book of verses you left on my bunk bed before leaving the school. Three words beautifully inscribed on the inner cover

For T
– K

I drew hearts around it and read it like the bible. This one small gesture from you opened a whole new world for me and added a new dimension to my life. You veiled your heart from me and never crossed the student teacher line. I realized that day that the bond of love that held us together was poetry. We didn’t meet that day so actually never parted but your absence created a huge void somewhere deep inside.

I would sit in the poet’s corner, eyes closed, and try to recite in slow whispers – Keats, Shelly, Byron just the way you did. The lovely cream flowers would slowly glide down with the breeze and kiss my face. Their faint fragrance still fills my senses. It was a sight that has remained etched in my memory forever.

There is nothing more intoxicating than the first love. Isn’t it?

Slowly I began to empty the spaces overflowing filled with your memories – liquid hurt stings.

Soon I left for England where I am based now but a part of me remained in those corridors filled with girly laughter and knowing glances, among the shady trees and soaring mountain peaks.

Sir, do you remember the little poems that I left on your table? I waited endlessly for your response which never came. I spent that one year under a spell, charmed by your very presence. Sometimes even small associations transform into life long love and admiration for each other. In those 365 days I evolved as a student, as a woman and as a human being.

All along my journey from a dreamy teenager to a known writer, you remained in my thoughts as an undercurrent. The phantom who haunted and inspired each word, who controlled the dancing fingers on my keyboard.

You not only gave me roots and wings to fly to seek my own horizons but also helped me emerge as a butterfly from within my dark cocoon. You helped me find my direction and become a better human being. It was your encouragement led me to weave the most beautiful yarns of life through my words.

The journey back to school was a pilgrimage. I wanted to visit the place which had laid the foundation for who I am today. Today after almost 25 long years I went through the corridors of my school, revisiting the glorious mornings and fragrant sunsets and a sudden urge to meet you rose inside me like a burning desire. Finding your address from the old watchmen was nothing short of a miracle, a wish come true. It is strange how some places draw a person back into their fold. I hadn’t expected to find you living here.

Sir, your absence from home is in a way a blessing in disguise, for I wouldn’t have been able to express myself as freely as I’m doing in my letter to you.

Love that began as a spark in a young girl slowly matured into revered adulation and respect.

I am leaving my first book of verses “Maulsari blossoms” which I have dedicated to a teacher who showed me the path and helped me find myself- YOU. I have kept inside it some dried flowers gathered during our poetry sessions. The fragrance still lingers ——

Just when I seemed about to learn!
Where is the thread now? Off again!
The old trick! Only I discern—
Infinite passion, and the pain
Of finite hearts that yearn.


Want to know more about the Indiana Legends click Here

A poem for Aman Ki Asha, Indo-Pak Peace Initiative

Gulzar Saheb writes

Aankhon ko visa nahi lagtaa
Sapno ki sarhad hoti nahin
Band aankhon se roz main sarhad paar chalaa jaata hun milne
‘Mehadi Hasan’ se!

My translation

you do not need visa for the eyes

there are no borders for the dreams

with closed eyes

everyday I cross the border

to meet Mehndi Hassan saheb

another one

nazar mein rehtey ho jab tum nazar nahin aatey
Yeh sur bulaatey hain jab tum idhar nahin aatey
In lakeeron ko zameen hi pe rehne do dilon pe mat utaro

My translation

even when you are in front of my eyes

you are not seen

when these notes call you do not come here

let these lines be on the surface of earth

don’t let them divide hearts

These excerpts are from the  poems which are part of Aman ki Asha, Indo-Pak peace initiative

After reading them something stirred inside me and  some words began to take shape in my heart.

For me Borders only exist as lines on some maps. I believe in One World and feel that we can make this planet a better place to live if we treat each other as humans and not Hindu, Muslim Christians or Indians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis. The barbed fence that  has bruised the heart of the land can never divide the hearts .Our heartstrings will remain attached forever.

Here is my contribution to the great cause .

Dhak dhak dhadkta hai  dil uska bhi
Ragon mein surkh laal khoon daudta hai uski
Aankhon mein baste hain uski bhi hazaron sapne
Roz raat chhat par wo bhi sitaare gina karti hai
Aur subah sawere mongare ke bikhre phoolon ko
Mala mein piroti hai
Jab wo hansti hai khil uthta hai aangan mera
Jab roti hai to sarabor ho jaati hain
Mere gaon ki galiyan

Sanjh dhale wo bhi apni ammi ka aanchal thame

chajje se door tak phaile

sarson ke peeele phoolon ke pare
Tak-taki lagae dekhti hai
Aayine mein wo meri surat dekhti hai
Main use dekh muskarati hun
Kuch zyaada fark nahi hai hum dono mein
wo maathe pe mandir ka tika nahi lagati
Aur main
akshar bayein se dayein likhti hun
Sarhad ke uss paar
Meri ek saheli rehti hai

English traslation

Dhak Dhak beats her heart too

deep red blood flows in her veins too

a thousand dreams live in her eyes too

every night she too counts the stars

on the terrace of her home

and in the early morning

gathers the Mongra flowers

to weave them into a garland

when she laughs it fill my courtyard

when she cries the roads of  my village

get drenched

when evening falls she too holds her ammi’s shawl

she stands in the balcony with her mother

watching endlessly across the long stretch

of yellow mustard flowers

in the mirror she my face

an I smile at looking at her

there isn’t much difference between us

she does not apply the temple vermillion on her forehead

and I

write the alphabets from left to right

across the border

my friend lives

Cinquain :River

Cinquain form of poetry writing consist of twenty-two syllables distributed as 2, 4, 6, 8, 2, in five lines.

Cinquains are short, unrhymed poems arranged in a special way.

Line 1: One general one-word subject.
Line 2: Two vivid adjectives describing the subject.
Line 3: Three interesting action verbs that compliment the topic.
Line 4: Four-word phrase that captures feeling about the topic.
Line 5: A very specific term that explains Line 1.

My Cinquain:



gurgling, gushing, meandering

vital tumult of life


It pyz 2 enrich ur wrd pwr :D Lingo fkd

The summer holidays have began and my brats are busy gaming, eating ,texting , chatting and endlessly talking on the phone. ( when I said I thought only Girls talk so much . they replied Yes they do we just listen 😀 )

Growing up with kids can be fun and a new learning experience.  If the title of the post sounded like Greek to you  then it is time for some lessons in language or the lingo of  youth.

The Gen -X has brought a revolution in the spoken and written language  and to understand this criptic lingo I asked my boyz to help me.

Over the period of time I am sort of a pro now 🙂 .

If you ain’t slanging, you ain’t bangin’ (hip, fun or exciting)

These youngsters bend rules, twist and turn the words, make comboz, shorten the words by even adding the numbers ( L8 for late)

New phrases are added every day and one needs to sharpen the claws all the time.

This generation is in a hurry, they have so much to say and the characters in the mobile are less so to fit in , the shorter the better.

Then there is a whole new text and internet lingo with all its abbreviations ROFL – rolled off floor laughing ,  ROTFLWTIME (rolling on the floor with tears in my eyes) and the rest of it. The C is replaced by K so COOL becomes Kool and S by Z – boys becomes Boyz, folks- folkz please – plzzzzzz , you can add as many z as you want)

They speak in plurals and vowels are dropped easily , one can cut the double letter also so cool will be kool or kewl or better will bcm betta. Sometimes some letters are understood better by being silent like OK  will be just K

Inovation is the key please can be written as plees, plz , pls etc.

Yes the baby talk is so much IN

cho chweet ( so sweet),  awwwww, hugsie wugsie , mela shona,kishi wishi, dudnite ( good nite/ night) are rolled out easily.

Nouns are a big put off just call it Thingie – whts dat thingie?

The dudes and babes or dudz  n babz love to experiment.

Local flavor spikes the lingo and I have a whole collection of thz

They have their own pharases and idioms

In Hindi

Hath me aana or phat ke hath me aana 😀  ( to be very scared) or the shorter version Phat gayi, lag gayi

When they mean someone is getting after or nagging  they say

meri to leni kar rakhi hai . lolzzzzz

Haandna is roaming around

funda is Point .. funda kya hai – whts ur point?

there are a lot like Chat mat – don’t eat my brains or bug me)

Chep is a Pile on

Bhais ki aankh is  is a phrase used by thoz who do not want to use cuss words

they have their own way of greeting also

Bhootni ke kahan tha ab tak

abuses are used randomly in greetings ,the closer you are the bigger the cuss word

totta is used for a hot girl

Dimag ka dahi and bheja fry are also two popular phrases  which may mean  got brain fucked . 😀 we will come to the use of this golden word later 🙂

They even join the two words to make fantabulous ( fantastic and fabulous), chillax ( chill and relax), Offum ( d F lingo) , Fucktard ( fucking retard)

Gosh  the list is endless

Dhakkan is uttely stupid so is dick head or shit head

English, Hindi or any othe regional language can all be jumbled up even bambaiya hindi is IN.

They may not pass the spell bee bt they are aweffun ( awesome and fun)

That brings us to the golden four letter word FUCK. the word has immence possiblities in terms of usage and can express anything , any emotion, it can be used as trasitive and intrasitive verb, noun, adjective , adverb you name it. It is that magical word that can describe pain, anger, pleasure just about anything.


I saw this video of  Osho on you tube. do watch , it is hilarious

Here is a usage list:

1)Greetings…………….”How the fuck are ya?”
2)Fraud………………..”I got fucked by the car dealer.”
3)Resignation…………..”Oh, fuck it!”
4)Trouble………………”I guess I’m fucked now.”
5)Aggression……………”FUCK YOU!”
6)Disgust………………”Fuck me.”
7)Confusion…………….”What the fuck…?”
8)Difficulty……………”I don’t understand this fucking shit!”
9)Despair………………”Fucked again…” or Fuck it
10)Pleasure…………….”I couldn’t be any fucking happier!”
11)Displeasure………….”Fucking shit man…”
12)Lost………………..”Where the fuck are we?”
14)Retaliation………….”Up your fucking ass!”
15)Denial………………”I didn’t fucking do it, I swear!”
16)Perplexity…………..”I know fuck about it.”
17)Apathy………………”Who really gives a fuck anyway?”
18)Suspicion……………”Who the fuck are you?”
19)Panic……………….”Let’s get the fuck out of here!”
20)Directions…………..”Fuck off.”
21)Incomprehesion……….”How the fuck did you do that?”

It can be an anatomical description………….”He’s a fucking asshole.”
It can be used to tell time…………………”Its five fucking thirty.”
It can be used in business…………..”How did I wind up with this fucking
It can be maternal………………….”MOTHERFUCKER!”
It can be political…………………”Fuck Lalit Modi !”

The way you say it explains what you mean by it  watch the video of  Raknish who had a remarkable sense of humor . 😀 that’s fuckin amazing I must say

No other word can be so versatile  as Fuck and it is One global word understood by one and all all across the globe.

Osho ends it withand I quote

” And it is very healthy too. If every morning you do it as a transcendental meditation… just when you get up… the first thing… repeat the mantra, f*** you, five times… it clears the throat… that’s how I keep my throat clear….enough for today!”

Indivine post. plz vote