Why we stick more to public commitments?

I failed every time when I planned to change my routine to get up early and to start eating low carbs. And I tried several times. Then I shared my plan with my family and friends. It’s been two months now. I am regularly getting up early and consistently eating low carbs. I didn’t fail this time. Why?

We are social animals. We do things that people would accept and avoid things that people would reject. We seek social approvals. We care what others think of us and our actions. We crave for appreciations and run away from embarrassments.

Also, we love consistency. Once we make commitment, we want to stay consistent. And the more our commitment is public, the more likely we would stay consistent.

Social animals stick to their public commitments to avoid embarrassments, you see.

So, try public commitment – make it, share it and get stick to it!

Suffocation – 55 Fiction

He covered my eyes and then my mouth
Thankfully my nose was open and I could still breathe
Nevertheless I was feeling suffocated
I wanted to open my eyes
I wanted to release my lips
But I couldn’t
This was my first time
And the barber said “Sir, I’ll remove this face mask after 20 minutes”

You reap what you sow!!!

It was a heated afternoon in the month of June. The entire city was burning under the scorching sun. And with that she was burning too, but her reason was different. It was terrible. It was miserable. It was regretful. And, it was something she had never thought even in her scariest dreams till a few years back. But now, she lives with it everyday. It burns her even in the coldest night of the year. It has become the part of her life, sucking her slow and deep.

She, turned 70 today, was sitting alone on the bare floor at the house entrance, with her grey fragile head bent against the wooden door. Her weak eyes were gazing the empty street that, once crowded, was abandoned by its people to avoid the sun. And, she wondered why her life has become like that street… why her people have abandoned her in this old age? Sitting there she was sinking in herself. Tears started floating, drying her throat. She lifted her thin wrinkled body and walked towards the kitchen. Only the walls were her allies to support her.

old alone woman

She had just opened the refrigerator door to wet her throat when a loud scream shivered her body, “I know you always keep stealing. How much you need to eat?” Her daughter-in-law was standing behind her wearing a furious expression. She closed the door without drinking and slowly dragged herself out of the kitchen, when she saw her son frowning upon her from the stairs. Her tears were soaked by her pounding heart, and sliding through the walls she reached to her lonely room.

Lying on her bed, those harsh words ‘I know you always keep stealing’ were ringing hard in her head, and as she closed her eyes, she saw herself 25 years earlier, much younger and healthy, with a firm voice and body, standing on those stairs, shouting the same way on her mother-in-law, while her husband and son standing beside her, silent.

She didn’t realize she would also be old one day. She didn’t realize her son would learn from her the very same nature and behavior. She wished to go back in time to undo her wrong deeds, to seek forgiveness, to sow seeds of love and respect. But, she just wept, and wept more… waiting for her end!

Valentine’s day special

So I called to let her know I will be late in office today. I lied. But I did reach home late.

At midnight, I surprised her with beautiful card which was perfectly hidden beneath my pillow. I wrote few lines in that:

You smile, I smile

You cry, I also do

On this valentines my love, I promise

I will live for your happiness

And breathe my entire life with you

She was indeed happy to see that. I am sorry baby I wanted to buy flowers also but didn’t get any time, you know, I said with sad face. No need baby, this card is so special.

In a while, she opened the microwave to prepare some late night snack, but jumped to see a red rose inside. Baby, when you got these flowers? What flowers, I don’t know. And I blinked.  

Okay, there is one more gift waiting for you. Please tell me no where she said excitedly. Search for it. And she looked at every corner but didn’t find. Okay, a hint, in the kitchen. She looked in the refrigerator and finally in the fourth attempt found a white pup hiding behind a bottle. She was mesmerized.

Gifts over, okay, I smiled. Thank you so much baby. You made it so special.

She woke me up for office when from inside my cozy blanket I said it is too hot in here why don’t you switch on the AC. She looked surprised but came back running with another card she found lying over the AC. This one is so darn cute! Thank you, thank you, thank you!  

Please tell me all other gifts. I hope there are no more, right. Obviously, this one was the last.

Around 3, she called me all excited…when did you buy and hide all these gifts…she asked after discovering a heart-shaped chocolate box beside the other snacks on our kitchen side table. I was enjoying to see her so happy. Okay, now that was finally the last one. You liked my surprises? I just loved them. And in the evening, we will go out to your favorite Mexican restaurant. Wow.

We were getting ready for our romantic dinner, when she usually asked which pendant to wear. I don’t know. She asked again. I really don’t know. But, one of the dinning chairs might know. She looked puzzled for a second and rushed. Swarovski necklace was shinning there. 

And, I used to think I am no romantic.


The blessed memories of Diwali

Hands folded in Nameste and head innocently bowed in front of Goddess Lakshmi’s in our small temple in the living room, I am sitting next to my Grandma. Now, dressed up smartly in black achkan (indo-western jacket) and white churidar pajama with a white pearl necklace around my neck, I am putting tikka on my grandpa’s forehead. And here at our terrace with my beautiful mom smiling in her yellow chiffon, holding a phuljhadi (sparkler) in my hand from behind and asking me to look towards my dad taking our picture, but looks like I am more into that phuljhadi than the picture. Thank you dad for capturing these memorable moments and many more, for these are the ones through which I still, after so many years, cherished my childhood Diwali celebrations.

As a child, I was madly fascinated by Diwali – the festival of light, though for me it was more a festival of crackers. I don’t remember my age then, just old enough when kids are allowed to step down alone to the nearby market. That street near our house is very narrow, and during the festival, with the crackers and sweets shops stretched almost to the middle from both ends, it used to become crowded, noisy and “lively”.

DiwaliMy crackers shopping used to begin a week before Diwali with pencil bombs and taabeez (triangle shape bombs). They were 100 for five and 2 packets a day were decently budgeted in my pocket-money. All that week, morning to evening, mostly alone at my terrace, except a few times with my friend Varun, I used to blast those bombs. Crazy isn’t? Divyang, my younger brother, was least interested in joining me. I am still not sure why he never enjoyed crackers. In this case, he is very much like grandpa who always refrain us from bursting crackers. His reason is pollution of course which I am sure is not Divyang’s. But grandma always use to give me money for crackers (the expensive and fancy ones). She is simply the best.

A few times I got light burns but no one knows about them yet. After that “bomby” week, the terrace used to look like a dirty pit with busted bombs, ashes, burnt papers and match sticks all over. On the Diwali afternoon, I used to sweep clean the terrace by myself with the same enthusiasm and excitement. Then after putting a folding bed for everyone to comfortably sit and enjoy the show of fancy crackers, I used to light around a hundred of candles on the terrace boundary to brighten up our Diwali house some more. The very next morning, I would be the first one to go upstairs to gather the melted wax of those candles for making the hand-made different-shapes candles. Recycling, you see.

I had a similar passion for greeting cards then. I used to make Diwali cards for all my close relatives and friends – trying to make all different and as beautiful as I could. Then with my Grandma’s help, I used to make envelopes for them, matching the color with the card (those were the days when we didn’t have loose envelopes in the market).

I loved to watch my mom making rangolis and painting on our doorway the little footsteps, white and beautiful, welcoming the Goddess Lakshmi to walk through our house on that auspicious evening to pour her blessings on us. We also used to hang a kandil, with an electric bulb inside it, high on the television antenna, so that at Diwali night, it lit colorful inside the kandil. At every house, there used to be at least one Kandil of some weird shape and bright color. In this cable and internet era remain no more television antennas and no more kandils on them, but still we buy a kandil and hang it somewhere inside the house.

Dad used to take me along with him to greet relatives and friends with Diwali sweets and gifts, and eventually, as I grew up, dad handed over this responsibility to me. I never enjoyed doing it alone except for visiting some close relatives. And so I handed it over to Divyang as soon as he grew up a little more. I think he, being an extrovert, loved it, except when not lazy.

Amidst all these beautiful blessed memories, I have a memory which is not pleasant but equally blessed for no one was hurt. I was very small then. My mom-dad, uncle-aunt, Divyang, all were there on terrace celebrating the Diwali evening. Someone gave me a sparkler and after a few seconds, scared of getting my hand burned, I just dropped it completely ignorant of the fact that I am standing next to the box full of crackers. The only scene I remember is that the rocket bombs going all over the terrace, my mom running towards the staircase holding Divyang and dad rushing towards me to drag me inside our terrace store-room. Thanks Almighty, no one was hurt. BE SAFE THIS DIWALI!

For the Diwali pooja, everyone in their best outfit sit next to each other, bow and pray. A few times, we used to celebrate the festival together with our close relatives and the joy was manifold. I pray to feel that joy again. After the pooja, we used to dance on the loud music and run towards the terrace for the fireworks. One time along with Nishtha and Suketu, I had this crazy fun of putting pile of newspapers on fire in a cement tray and throwing bullet bombs in it causing the ashes and pieces of burnt newspaper flying up creating beautiful images and we used to dance around that fire. After getting tired with all the dance and fireworks, we used to play cards together till the wee hours of the morning.

And this is how I celebrated my Diwali as a child, as a teenager, and a few times as an adult. The best of times and celebrations! I miss that. I miss my family. I miss that fun. Well, I am going to attend Diwali pooja this year with my lovely family…over skype.


Say “Thank you” to those who changed you and feel “Awesome”

“Do you have people in your world who changed your life positively?” asked me the morning, when I stepped in the balcony rubbing my eyes.

“Of course I’ve!” I replied, surprised why it is asking me that suddenly.

“Did you ever thank them for that?”

That question made me think… many times people changes our lives forever with their actions, words or just by their presence, and often we forget to thank them for what they did, taking their love and care for granted. I was no different, I am now… from this very moment…

So go ahead and thank those who really have changed you, your life and the way of think… It feels AWESOME!!!


Thank you Nishtha for always there in my life. I am so grateful for that. You are the bestest sister ever. I remember vividly when I saw you for the first time, a little more than my palm, I felt an angel has entered my life. And after so many years, I feel exactly the same…just never knew my little angel will grow up so fast!

I know you miss me the most when I am away from home. I miss you too but I am a little poor in expressing. You’ve taught me many things in your own way. The way you believe in me makes me more confident and responsible. You make me go for knowledge by relying on me for answers, making me more aware. Your trust in me makes me a believer, affirming my belief that I will always be there to hold you, to support you in all times, and the way you listens to me makes me feel I’m a good speaker. And, I go to gym to look like a handsome brother of such a gorgeous sister ;)

I LOVE YOU and want the best of the bestest for you in all the spheres of life.


I am so thankful to you Sonal for being such an amazing and caring sister. The way you care about me and the way you are a little possessed (in fact, for everyone you love ;-)) shows and reflects your pure love.

Our childhood memories are so precious – long summer vacations, playing hide and seek, going to the park for orange bar, and running from p l sharma to begum bagh for no reason. But even though we have our busy lives now, I want to thank you for always making me feel that you are always there for me.

I am really grateful that you introduced me to Isha, the best thing happened to my life. I am really thankful to you for that. You have changed my life.

The way you go an extra mile to take care of Nishtha is commendable. I never mentioned this but I really appreciate (I know you must be thinking now, ughh…isn’t she my sister ;-)). You left your work pending to attend my roka-ceremony on such a short notice made me feel really special.

I can go on and on saying how grateful I feel for having you as my sister, but I want to finish it short by saying, I LOVE YOU SIS !!!


Thank you Abhishek for many reasons than one. First of all for always being my best friend, standing on my side in good times and bad, in right and wrong. For always listening to my stuff patiently and always believing in me. For never shouting back on me even in our fights. For making me think I am much better than what I think I am, and that I deserve the best in life.

For leaving your college classes to support me during dad’s abduction. For making me calm and strong when I was at my lows. When we’ll meet again, and I know soon, we will follow our tradition of mall road and hariya ki lassi ;)

Thank you for being my bestest friend. You’ve changed me and my life in many ways.

Friends Forever!


PS: There are so many other people whom I want to thank equally… Surely will, on some other beautiful morning :-)