2 States


2014 - 1I’ve never had an experience of writing a short story before and this is my first time .Well, lets directly start, I don’t wanna waste your time giving silly introduction.Here goes……nothing…!

To make the most of my slowly-slipping-through-my-hands-like-water summer hols , me and my family went to a trip to Kerala. Our main intention was to laze around the resort ,do nothing but eat and sleep all day. At least my intention was the same. Alas, the others had different ideas. They wanted to visit the boring tourist destinations nearby: The thiruvalluvar statue,the golden sun beach, yadda, yadda , yadda. I accompanied them of course, I don’t want to be left around in the room all by myself. All tough in the final day of our trip, I made my eyes all puppy-like and pleaded to stay in the resort itself. They agreed,looking miserable.They wanted a second glimpse of the golden sun beach. I didn’t care.It was not worth all the hassle.

After a sinful breakfast of over-burned dosas and idlis, we went over to a place named ‘fun zone’ within the resort , next to the swimming pool. I begged my mom for ages to go there ( well, not exactly ages, its only since 4 days we got there , but you know what I mean) and she finally came with me. I had this thing on mind to visit this place at least ONCE to see what it got in store for us . I must have known by the name , by naming it fun zone, I taught they had something really FUN , but it was nothing to write home about. It was a well-lit place , buzzing with activities. They had a golf table organized, a car-rom board, a table tennis table and a full shelf filled with BOOKS. At least they had got books ! I went over to the shelf , grabbed a copy of Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief an began reading. My mom glared at me in a look which said , is this why you bought me here ? and started reading an Indian novel. My mom and me were avid readers and never missed an opportunity for a good read.

I was halfway in reading when I felt a hand on my shoulder . I jumped. I was engrossed so much in reading that I hadn’t heard someone calling me. I turned, looking cross, to see who was calling me. A girl of about my age , wearing neon pink shorts and a yellow captioned top was smiling at me. I tried to be polite and asked’yes?’.

“will you come play t-t with me?” she asked with the same warm smile.I looked at my mom hesitantly and she urged me to go. I turned back to her saying ‘sure!’ and got up from my chair and headed towards the table tennis table.

I was a very good t-t player and I doubted she would play well( I am not boasting or anything).”okay, now ” she said and serviced the ball to me . It was a VERY GOOD serve , and I missed. I smiled and gave my ever-best serve and it as a relief to see her miss. “so,my name is Pooja,what’s yours?” I introduced myself.I started to like this girl very much.”mine is Vrithi” she said. What an unusual name? I had trouble saying it.

I guessed she was from north India immediatly . I smiled . Gujarat maybe ? because I liked their food very much.”I am from chennai” I said and that made me miss a shot. Oh my gosh, she is a very good player. “good one” I said and gave her a very nasty service. She picked it up!” I am from surat ” she said . Yes ! Surat is in Gujarat!. We started talking about a various topics. I felt like talking to a long lost friend. I have never gotten along with anyone this quickly and felt weird.

We talked about politics,cooking,dancing,my blog,novel, and a lot of other stuff for nearly 2 hours over easily missing shots.The topic gradually moved on 2 STATES,a hindi movie feauturing a hero from North India and the heroine from Tamil Nadu and their hurdles in life. I sort of liked all songs in that movie.

This was our version of 2 states, only a little different and much more lovable. She said she needed to leave and I persuaded her to stay a little more longer . Two hours passed us by like mere two minutes and it was time to leave before I even knew it. We would probably never meet again in life and I felt more than miserable about it. “you play well” she said, grabbing my Percy Jackson.”you too” I said sheepishly , avoiding her eye. “bye,pooja. lets catch up sometime” she said.I waved back.I wish that could happen,seeing her again,that is.

.She had overtaken my 2-year close pal in a matter of 2 hours. I s’pose this is the best part of our trip. I was glad I went to the fun zone,It was definetly worth it.

You don’t need to be close to each other to be best friends, you can always remain friends in each other’s heart.We remain friends forever, unbounded by time.



great post

this is an ergonomic nightmare

It’s been ages since I’ve written, and now that exams are over, I shall once again have more time to write! And be lazy and lie in bed all day. Either/or. A more important reason? cause? for my sudden urge to blog is what probably has been one of the most heart-warming experiences I’ve had in a long time, possibly ever. 

After a satisfyingly unproductive day, I’d headed over to my friend’s place for Games Night. Which is exactly what it sounds like – sitting around playing board games on Wednesday nights. Barely awake, I ended up leaving post-11, looking forward to what would be the first night for a very long time which would entail sleeping until mid-afternoon the next day. 

After a walk to the bus station, which seemed further away than I’d imagined, and a failed attempt to complete some much-needed shopping at Tesco, I caught the…

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The Great Indian Poli-trick.


love this post

Epiphany in the Cacophony


It was an unhappy union from the start. They disagreed on everything. The budget, the expenditure, the policies, the goals. And yet, they stayed together for years, fighting to be the louder voice, the stronger presence, the one that commanded more respect.
Year after year, the walls of the parliament became more of a house than a home. They hurled abuses, slammed doors, threw chairs. Dysfunctional. They knew it too. But they stayed together. For the child, they said. They called her India.

India grew up watching her parents fight. The only child in a joint family, many members fought to have a say in how she should be brought up. Every five years, she would be forced to choose between them.
Everyone recognised the symptoms of election time. Flags and banners carrying the lotus and the palm would adorn every street in India. The sounds of passionate campaigning on…

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My writing


I know my writing is good,but I need to make it better. Not only blogs and articles matter, my novel does too. I’ve named that little baby The Zoras. Yes, its an fiction-alien based one. The protagonists are Julie,Steve,Mark,Susie,Joe and Jane. They work under Julie’s father who is a Scientist and a space researcher riddled in into one. He finds out that his latest research, The Zoras are evil and wanted to destroy the world. However , they have a big secret through which they can succeed. Julie’s father finds out the big Secret and wanted to pass it on to his team,that is the 6 kids but gets killed before doing so. Julie’s heartbroken and enraged and wanted to seek revenge. Mysterious killings happen around her and suprisingly, she is there to witness it all. Can she connect the dots and the killings and unfold the secret ? Find out in the novel the Zoras.


                                                                           There . I have just advertised it even before I completed it. The plot may seem silly at first because I hadn’t explained the whole thing. As I said in the previous post , I am planning to put it on WordPress after I complete it. But for that I NEED to complete it. I know. Will you give me suggestions on whether or not to put it on Word-press after I finish ? Waiting and wanting to hear from you ,

Poojitha ( comments in the comment box) 

Holiday resolutions to keep ‘busy’ during hols


They gave me  2 months of full,satisfied,un-interrupted holidays ( 58 days to be exact.Whoa) and I don’t think I am gonna waste it. I thought of some hols resolutions to keep me busy throughout. .Here are those resolutions ( they MAY seem very silly, but read on)  :

  1. Completing Rubik’s Cube :


Well, this may seem easy at first , but once you collapse it all up, you will get collapsed before you re-assemble it properly. I am not kidding.They have notations to solve this thing . NOTATIONS!. Like I don’t have enough maths in my life to worry about. But you know what ? That’s WHAT MAKES IT MORE INTERESTING. I may sound like a geek , but WHO cares? You will go NUTS if it doesn’t turn up. If it doesn’t come your way.The sole reason why I am interested is I entered in a challenge. Well, its not a proper challenge. Its a local one between my friends. The challenge is to complete the Rubik’s Cube ENTIRELY before hols ends. It resembles maths a lot. Once you do a move wrong, I mind you, ONCE and it screws up. The whole thing screws up.Like maths. You start doing a very long sum( a 5 mark question ) and you’re anxious, you need the answer correct AND in the middle you make a silly mistake like you can’t understand your own scribbling and you end up writing 3 instaed of 8. lo and behold, there goes your 5 marks. like THAT. You know what I mean. That’s why I am head over heals to finish it . That too, BEFORE hols ends AND I the worst at maths.( well , it adds to my interest)

2.  Complete all holiday projects :

Yes,this is not a resolution really, its not like I can get out without finishing it. Moreover, they will have my head if I don’t complete it on time. But still,it goes on this list because its one of the things to do  during holidays.

3.Finish my novel:

You read that right. Yes, I am working on a novel. Its a fiction-alien based one. Its not my first one either,but its the best one I’ve ever written(er..writing). I have a group of bored peers who I am giving my novel to read during the free classes. That’s not the reason why I am urging to finish.I have a idea to put it on Word-press after I complete it. You know, part by part . Its like a serial. First chapter in a article. Second chapter in another. Like that. The thing is, I don’t know whether it will sell. Well, word-press is supposed to publish articles. Nobody has published a novel in it before. Or someone might have, but it didn’t sell. Articles are ‘hot’ here. Novels are not. That’s why I am scared to publish . I don’t wan’t to lose the small amount of readers I got. Please give me suggestions on whether or not to publish my novel.   .


Well, that’s that. I have other thing as a ‘resolution’ in my mind. That is to get a lot of sleep. heaps of sleep. ‘Cause next year I will be moving to ninth grade and would only get 2 weeks of sleep. That will NOT be enough. So that’s it. Happy holidays !














What Students Really Need to Hear


great post

It’s 4 a.m.  I’ve struggled for the last hour to go to sleep.  But, I can’t.  Yet again, I am tossing and turning, unable to shut down my brain.  Why?  Because I am stressed about my students.  Really stressed.  I’m so stressed that I can only think to write down what I really want to say — the real truth I’ve been needing to say — and vow to myself that I will let my students hear what I really think tomorrow.

This is what students really need to hear:

First, you need to know right now that I care about you. In fact, I care about you more than you may care about yourself.  And I care not just about your grades or your test scores, but about you as a person. And, because I care, I need to be honest with you. Do I have permission to be…

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Long Journey Short


Epiphany in the Cacophony


When he got the job he was elated. He sent a telegram to his village, ‘Got job. Young couple with child. Will send money next month’.

Joseph woke up early to get dressed the next day. Crisp white shirt and white pants. He hated it. On his first day as a driver, he certainly looked like one. He thought of how as a teenager, he dreamt of being a pilot. His reflection reminded him of how far away he stood from it.
His first day went smoothly. He made his way to the house to hand over the keys that evening and was greeted by Tutu. A young, short, wiry kid with twinkling eyes. He wondered how she managed to reach the doorknob. He handed her the keys and asked her to give them to her father.

Over the years, Joseph took a great liking to the girl. They would…

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this small piece of writing is about a silly hope. Holidays just started and as usual, I have nothing to do. I don’t even care to scum up a pic about this. Its not even a proper article. Yes, like I was saying, hols started and I turned for wordpress to keep me from falling into the big pool of boredom. I went through all the Freshly Pressed articles, wishing like hell I could place my article here. But I couldn’t. I think my article isn’t good enough. I was solving this idiotic Rubik’s Cube ( Completed two faces and moving on to the third one right now ) sitting in front of “blogs I follow” ( articles which I have read at least a thousand times ) knowing nothing I could do except solve this puzzle.My eyes went to the screen in a reflux which scared me. There was a hint of orange in the WordPress’s totally blue theme. My heartbeat started increasing when I thought they had selected me for Freshly Pressed. My palms started sweating when I went to click on the small comment box on the right-hand corner of the screen . I really HOPED they had selected me for Freshly Pressed( although the last article I had written was the Dwaraka: A Case Study ) . The mouse pointer moved in slow motion to the sunlight orange comment box . I slowly clicked it ………. Rubik’s cube totally forgotten ………


and alas, it was just someone following me, ( well, its not really JUST after all, I value my readers a lot, but still ) . I was not heartbroken or anything , it is just……… well, I couldn’t say, I WAS A LITTLE DISAPPOINTED. But I could totally make it into the Freshly Pressed if I tried hard enough, and I definetly WILL try hard enough. Back to the Rubik’s Cube ( I screwed up everything, gotta start from scratch). 

Dwaraka – A case study



My hidden historian has triggered me to write something related to Indian history. So , as you can see in the above picture , this is THE CITY OF KRISHNA , DWARAKA. This is an another submerged city , for crying out loud. Submerged or lost or destroyed ancient cities interest me very much ( which is what led me to write my first article on wordpress , ATLANTIS : THE LOST WORLD ) . Myths and legends say that The lord Krishna ( romantic hero in hinduism) had built this city to house his clans , the Yadavas . Dwaraka has an another (nick)name called Dwaravati meaning ” the city of many gates” in sanskrit.   Dwaraka was first mentioned in Mahabharata one of THE most important epics.( seriously , I read through this epic many times but didn’t understand even the word of it. Ramayana (another epic) is much easier ) . It is , sorry was , located in the district of Jamnagar in the Indian state , Gujarat. If you’re planning on travelling ( to ancient places) this is the best place .” What is special about this city ? ” you might ask. Well , it simply lies in the fact that Dwaraka , built by our Krishna , was built on a submerged island. It is a city which even modern technology cannot build because it’s houses were as tall as skyscrapers and was discribed in the Harivamsa Purana as ” high buildings made in gold which almost touched the sky ” . It is the one of the richest cities in the world , and probably the only city where its houses were studded with gems ImageImage

( believe me , India IS very rich ). Harivamsa Purana goes on stating that ” it was the former sporting ground of king Ravitaka ” and that” Dwaraka was shaped like a chess board” . Dwaraka was submerged and never got up again . Many underwater explorations and artifacts reveal that Dwaraka was indeed a magnificient  city which existed when the Mahabharata war took place and was later submerged. Some believe that Dwaraka still exists , ruled by lord krishna somewhere unknown to us.



great post

Epiphany in the Cacophony


He would start work at 7pm sharp. Not a minute early, not a minute late. He did his job with pride, standing tall as the little town went about its life. He would watch the little boys racing down the lane, middle aged women on their way to the grocery store, the old men who’d walk down the lane for their daily dose of Indian politics and healthcare prices. The town hadn’t changed in years.
His eyes drifted to the group of young wives who sat by the park opposite him. Huddled together, painted nails, eyes drawn, their hands marked with the pale orange of fading henna. They seemed to converse in giggles. He sighed. He had seen young girls turn to beautiful brides and beautiful brides turn to scornful mothers-in-law. Only a matter of time, he thought, before their youth gave way to rough hands, pale sarees and sweat…

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