LITERATURE

POETRY

BREAK THE STEREOTYPE 

The need of the hour is breaking the formula of this cliché image we have of the society.
Perpetually, people, especially the youth are breaking free from the shackles of our so called societal norms.
I am more than my gender.
I am more than my colour.
I am more than my size.
I am more than who I love.
I am more than myself.
I am the green goddess of nature.
I am the justice between men and women.
I am society without its norms.
I am the new youth.
I am human.
“Don’t stereotype me”- Let me finish my story before you write it already for me.

———————PRISHA MEHTA, 4 BPTH

HANDS

Of colours and light, the skies change every night.
Although a common roof, a million minds perceive a million shades of blues.
Why do we covet the changing colours of the sky?
Is it an escape or a reflection to the emotions, on the inside that lie?
Of colours and light, the skies change every night.
A brilliant blue speckled with tufts of cotton white, feels like comforting oneself and holding up, right?
While on a grim day, setting in sombre, the palette somehow serves the grey ombre.
A rosy evening, blush pink, and pretty romanticising one almost always looks forward to fantasizing!
While as one looks above to see a blazing orange.
A motivation, to gather oneself up, sets in a different courage
Sometimes just to make everything seem content, quite.
The purples overhead are an assuring sight.
Of colours and light, the skies change every night.
Well, the depths of imagination and perception obviously seem unfathomable.
However, evident enough is the daily change that’s practicable.
It’s how or why we do or don’t choose to be stuck.
But it’s quite like the nature’s law to witness a new day and the old one to pluck.
Of colours and light, the skies change every night.
Because today’s dark night leads to tomorrow’s shining day.
It’s needless to say.
They’re lessons of nature, very subtle of a kind.
Even when reason cannot, time does heal the mind!
And that’s exactly what the skies seem to remind!

———————MAITHILI GHULE, 4 BPTH

POETRY FOR THE SOUL

You smell of cut grass and humid air under the sun,
you don’t care about the twigs in your hair,
or the freckles on your nose,
you laugh like no one is listening,
you dance like you breathe the sky,
this is how you will know you are a wild feral beauty,
finding the wild in you that sets you free,
finding your heart that escapes through your eyes,
and rolls down your cheeks in tears,
because may be the point is not to love many,
but to love deeply,
and in doing so lose yourself in another,
surrender into your soul,
see all the fears and nostalgia,
grow more beautiful,
wholly,
madly,
fully.

———————SAUMYA BHATIA, 2 BPTH

ON TRYING

Today life punched me in the face,
everyone thought I’d quit the race.
My sorrow was now at its peak,
everyone thought I was weak.
You don’t know my strength,
it is something even I can’t comprehend.
I am brighter than sun, greater than the sky,
I will give life another try.
I’ll wipe my sweat, I’ll heal my wound,
I will get up on my feet soon.
I’ll wear my gloves and hit back,
now it’s my time to attack.
I’ll swing my arm and punch hard,
this fight is just about to start.
If life tries to knock me down,
I’d still get up and wear my crown.
Anytime life puts me to test,
I’ll get up again and give my best.
I may or may not win,
but what’s the harm in trying?

———————MAHIKA DESAI, 1 BPTH

SLAUGHTER OF MINDS

One more mind slaughtered,
as we stood by and gazed,
replaced by a box clattered
yet, you & I stood unfazed.

I wondered if it was a murder,
if the victim owns the gun,
but you & I didn’t even shudder,
we knew we won’t make it even if we run.

We waited with bated breaths for our turn,
to be sacrificed to the subjugation,
hoping for a messiah to return,
forgetting we are the messiah under fear and trepidation.

Your minds are wings to break the loop,
meant to fight your own battle,
not to join the troop,
to be humans and not cattle.

———————ANUSHKA SALUNKHE, 1 BPTH

HELL FIRE & HOLY WATER

Lashes small,
puffy eyes,
nails all unshaped,
hair enmeshed in knots,
feet trembling in heels,
clothes mucky with rain,
almost am I,
an unsolvable mess;
raw but real,
betrayed by the world yet loyal,
spinning in my mind but calm,
here I am,
confused but confident.

——————–NEEYATI SHAH, 3 BPTH

WORDS OF LOVE

I just kept staring at you for a while,
But in no time I unknowingly began to smile,
My mind was racing and I had so much to tell,
Yet all I could describe was how madly in your love I fell,
I hardly remember how you described your perspective of love,
Cause all I could hear was an angel’s voice from above,
Your glamorous beauty seemed to fade away in front of your soul & heart,
Cause that’s what I was attracted to right from the start,
In front of my emotions these words are just a few,
Maybe someday I’ll give this poem to you.

———————NILAV JADHAV, 3 BPTH

SHE IS HEALING

Shhhh! She is healing
From the deep wounds
Which no one found
Making herself so strong at last
By forgetting the past
Shhhh! She is healing.
Sleeping with the feelings
Which are always just killing
Shhhh! She is healing.
Sitting before the warm hearth
Along with her frozen heart
By realizing that leaving is
The only way of living
Shhhh! She is healing.
Now putting a big grin on her face
And trying to go with the nature’s pace
She started reliving
Rather than just believing
Shhhh! She is healing.
Acting as if everything is fine
And trying to be on cloud nine
Shhhh! She is healing.
To shine.

———————ARYA KARDILE, 1 BPTH

BREASTFEEDING

With her child crying loud out of hunger,
She wants to feed her child,
But is resisted by thoughts,
“What will people think?”.
With all eyes on her, making her feel uncomfortable,
Why does she have to wait till she gets an isolated space?
It’s the stigma that makes it a taboo,
But aren’t we the ones who create it?
Let’s spread awareness rather than ignorance,
Allowing her to breastfeed in public,
FEARLESS and PROUD.

———————SANJYOT HANDE, 4 BPTH

A BEAUTIFUL CHAOS

Waking up with a subtle light, brightening everyone’s lives,
She arrives with a glitter of craziness, sparkling her way out through hives.
She holds a little infinity in each of her musings, dreaming in the broad daylight,
And flying away into the nothingness of the night.
She is a mess of personalities yet unique in every sense,
Owning up to all her strange ideas without any glimpse of pretense.
With all her quirks and dreams, along with her perfect flaws,
She will always be a beautiful chaos.

———————RAKHEE CHANDANE, 1 MPTH

HEALING SOUL

Trembling hands and blurry eyes,
cried myself to sleep every night,
I felt lost in my own disguise,
put a fake smile on for the world,
I sigh.
My heart sinks and my stomach hurts,
I have an anxious mind that desires for a friend through the worst,
tried my best to be someone they’d accept,
but yet through all this, got my heart crushed,
filled with regret, I questioned myself,
coped through the insecurities and learnt to adore who I am,
embraced my scars and felt alive,
awaiting to meet the best version of I.

———————JAYANI BHATT, 1 BPTH

THE LITTLE KID IN ME

I paint like a third grader,
but still I do,
I dance so awkwardly being so conscious,
but still I dance,
for the little kid in me.

Some days I try mediation,
some days I go for a walk,
some days I scream and sing,
just to let the frustration out,
for the little kid in me.

At times, I eat like a panda and
at times, I can’t even gulp down water,
but I still try to eat,
try to drink,
for the little kid in me.

I wish to run away,
I wish to give up,
I wish to start a new life,
but I still continue,
for the little kid in me.

Some days, I am embarrassed of myself, even of my achievements,
I isolate myself,
pickup random fights only to cry, but still I buckle up,
for the little kid in me.

I shout at the top of my lungs,
I cheat when I am about to lose,
I never want to leave the play ground,
that unleashed my competitive side,
for that’s how I know there’s still a little kid in me.

———————TANISHA MEHTA, 1 BPTH

SAD & HAPPY

“Happy” notices the rainbows and the sunshine.
“Happy” seems content giving of its own.
“Happy” appreciates the little things.
“Happy” changes every day, every moment.
“Happy” cannot always exist, and that’s okay!
“Sad” makes ponds look like puddles.
“Sad” has nothing to offer the world.
“Sad” puts an awful spin on everything.
“Sad” changes every day, every moment.
“Sad” exists to remind us to appreciate “Happy”.

———————SAMRA CHOUDHARY, 4 BPTH

FIRST STEPS

If you stand still, you’ll hear the winds push the sea towards your window sill.

If you gaze high, you’ll see the stars peep back at you as the comets fly by.

If you really hear, you’ll know the bumblebees on the sunflower say summer is near.

If you first smile, you’ll find they’ve been wanting to know you for a while.

If you only speak, you’ll learn that the silence was what had made you weak.

If you turn around, you’ll notice the world awaiting your magic, spellbound!

———————BILWA SAWANT, 4 BPTH

A JOYOUS LIFE

Live a big life, like there’s no tomorrow.
Make the most of your limited time here.
Choose happiness and let go of fear.
Make every single day count.
There are no problems you cannot surmount.
Live a joyous life, and let that be your goal.
Live a full life, ’cause there may be no tomorrow.

———————DURGA JAT, 4 BPTH

YELLOW

More often than not,
Yellow is the incandescent glow
and warmth you love to bask in,
emanated by the brightest star;
gently caressing your face
like you are the most precious
bijou in his jewelry box.
It is the grin that graces
your little brother’s face
when he wins the annual
poetry writing competition
and does his victory dance.
It is the khichdi your mother
lovingly feeds you with her own hands
when you’re down with 101°F fever.
Seven out of ten times,
Yellow is the memory of
you devouring the makai butta
with your family on the Juhu beach
and dancing in the August rains.
It is the barter system that exists
between the bees and the flowers,
offering nectar in exchange of pollen.
It is you and your bestfriend
sitting on the swings in the park,
and reminiscing about your childhood;
as the memories flash before
your eyes and the giggles you shared
echo in your ears; and how
nostalgia clouds both of your minds.
On some other days,
Yellow is the sigh that
escapes your lips after
an exhausting shift at the hospital.
It is the sunflower you
tuck behind your ear and
try to pose while your mother
fumbles with the new camera.
It is your sister twirling in her
wedding dress in front of the mirror,
looking at herself in awe;
as both of you
gush over how pretty she looks.
Every once in a while,
Yellow is the dying leaf
which has fallen off
the sheesham tree during autumn
and will eventually bloom back
at the dawn of spring;
reminding you that sometimes,
it is necessary to sink and drown
in order to learn how to float and swim.
It is the stranger offering you
his seat on the bus because
somehow he knows that
you’re not feeling well;
Yellow, is the color of kindness.

———————SHREYA NAIK, 2 BPTH

SOUL IN MY FINGERTIPS

The day slips through my fingers,
as I am bound to admit that
I have known the taste of salt water,
the smell of decaying forests
and the cracks in hundreds of sidewalks,
I have loved the change
in time zones and season falls
but no matter what,
how quietly I spoke,
the world spun a little slower,
just to hear what I had to say,
for I have learnt to be gentle,
with that part of me
that takes it so deeply
and tends to hold onto it for long,
making me realize that’s an awakening
to trace the soul in my fingertips.

———————SAUMYA BHATIA, 2 BPTH

ROCK BOTTOM

Most people see the best versions of you.
When you hit rock bottom, standing by you are only a few.
We’re all so vulnerable to the compulsions of socialization,
that we often sink to losing ourselves into the ocean.
Instant gratifications seem fulfilling on the outside,
yet somewhere we do crave for a safe space for ourselves to be let out, on the inside.
Most people see the best versions of you,
when you hit rock bottom, standing by you are only a few.
It’s hard to find people who help you gather yourself,
it’s more like a process to find them and let them be a good influence.
Processes are always long, and come with their own ups and downs.
They could be made easier if you discover someone who’s ready to hold you even when the
hope drowns.

———————MAITHILI GHULE, 4 BPTH

THE UNSAID

It’s beautiful how the night falls in love with the moon.
It’s beautiful how the sea paints itself black, just to match the black sky.
It’s beautiful how the soft breeze slithers through the still water.
There is so much more in the unsaid.
It’s beautiful how much the silence said.
It’s not the words, it’s connecting without them.
It’s not actually your existence but the feeling of your presence that matters.
It’s not anything superficial, it’s all that’s deep that matters.
It’s just a look through your eyes that drowns me deep into your soul.
So much more was said in the unsaid.
So much more that the silence said.

———————PRISHA MEHTA, 4 BPTH

JOURNEY FROM A GREEN TO A WILTED LEAF

My love and care was just as pure as gold,
Sadly only a few could hold,
I nurtured and handled them just as a delicate flower,
But my importance to them was less than an hour,
I looked after them night and day,
Just to make longer their stay,
I slowly turned from green to a wilted leaf,
Finally they realized my importance and sank to grief.

———————NILAV JADHAV, 3 BPTH

IF I WERE LIKE SHE

Styled my hair, applied some powder,
maybe I should try harder.
Wore a dress, became more feminine,
maybe I should be more thin.
Time and again I try to be pretty,
I am the one to be held guilty.
I look around and feel ashamed,
I am the one to be blamed.
I try so hard and I still fail,
I look at the number on the scale.
Wish I had her hair or smile,
at least I could be enough for a while.
Wish I had a smaller waist,
at least then I won’t be a disgrace.
If only I had nicer eyes,
or maybe thinner thighs
Maybe if my hair was straight,
I would get less hate.
If I tried and skipped my meal,
I would have been prettier I feel.
Would you like me if I was like her?
I don’t think I can face the answer.

———————MAHIKA DESAI, 1 BPTH

YOU

Louder than the waves,
Rush my emotions for you…
Because you are the shore,
To whom I always come to.
Shimmery as the sun,
Are my eyes when I see you…
Because you are the harbor,
To which I anchor my heart.
Longer than the horizon,
Is my smile when you talk to me
Because you are the end
To all my cyclones.
Greater than the water in the ocean,
Is my love for you
Because you are my home,
My every bit has a part of you.

———————POORVA MALKAR, 3 BPTH

VULNERABLE

I feel weak and sensitive and lost,
So lost that I can’t even recognize myself,
I feel pain even in the slightest inconvenience,
I feel the fit of fury, so intense inside my body, yearning to burst out,
Why did I become so vulnerable?
My heart sinks each time I try to control my tears in front of those captious faces staring at me,
I don’t think I can talk to anyone about my emotional outbursts,
They’d judge me, think I am weak, but bottling up my emotions and keeping them hidden deep
inside, not being able to talk to anyone is not weak!
Is it?

———————JAYANI BHATT, 1 BPTH

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

Today is not the day to be happy or sad,
Today is the day to live.

Let your imagination go beyond limits,
Or,
Don’t let the imaginary world go way beyond reality,
Which of these appeals to you?

Only certain thing in this world is: DEATH;
Yet the most uncertain things are also about it : Where, How, When?
So let’s make the most out of this world’s uncertain thing: LIFE;
And be certain to make it memorable and iconic.

———————SAAKSHI JAIN, 3 BPTH

SHAYARI

Koi khushi ki chaah me roya,
Koi dukh ki panaah me roya,
Ajeeb silsila hai yeh zindagi ka,
Koi bharose ke liya roya,
Toh koi bharosa karke roya.

Zindagi sundar hai par jeena nahi aata,
Har cheez me nasha hai par peena nahi aata,
Sab mere bina jee sakte hai,
Bas mujhe hi kisike beena jeena nahi aata.

Bheegi aankhon se muskurane me mazaa kuch aur hai,
Haste haste palke bhiagane me maza kuch aur hai,
Baat keh ke toh koi bhi samajhle,
Khamoshi ko samjhe toh maza kuch aur hai.

Farak hota hai khuda aur fakir me,
Farak hota hai kismat aur lakir me,
Agar kuch chaho aur na mile toh samajh lena,
Kuch aur likha hai takdeer me.

Takdeer likhne wale ek ehsaan likhde,
Mere doston ki takdeer me muskaan likhde,
Na mile zindagi me kabhi koi dard inhe,
Chaahe badle me meri jaan likh de.

———————SHEHREBANU PATANWALA, 1 BPTH

KYUN HAR BAAR TU ROTA HAI

Kyu har baar tu rota hai?
Kyu har baar tu rota hai uske liye jise tere hone ki kadar nahi,
Jiska tu na kal tha, na aaj hai, aur naahi kal hoga,
Samaj jaa ab bhi der hui nahi,
Gham ke badal ab bhi puri tarah barse nahi,
Dil ke aansu ab bhi palko par utre nahi,
Phir se wahi sawaal puchta rahunga jab tak tu samjhega nahi,
Dil tu kyu aakhir rota hai uske liye jise tere hone ki kadar nahi…

———————NILAV JADHAV, 3 BPTH

आशिया

तरक्की की चाह मे कहा जा पहुँचे.
आसमां की चाह मे ज़मीं खो बैठे |
जहा नज़र जाये, दिखातीं बस इमारते ,
मिट्टी के ढाँचे मे बसी चाहते |
कहा गया वो दौर, जब चिडिया गाती थी,
शहर के शोर मे ,शहद-सा घोल जाती थी |
कहती है गोरैया आज भी मुस्कुराकर,
बसा लिया अपना जहा मेरा आशिया तोडकर |
कहा जाऊ अब मे बसाने अपना घर,
पेड तो रहें नही कही-भी हो गये हम बेघर |
बीमारियां तो आएगी क्योकिं पेड नही रहे,
एक भुल की सझा सब भुगत रहे |
गलती तो इंसान की थी फिर क्यों,
यह प्रकृति भी इस भुल का कहर सहे |
अब भी वक़्त है, आ जाओ ज़मीन पर,
धर्ती से ही सही, रखना नज़र असमान |
आंखो मे उदासि लिये पुछ रही घर का पता है ,
आज भी याद दिलाती हमे हमारी खता है |

———————KESHAV JANI, 2 BPTH

PROSE

THE INCESSANT FEAR

Have you spent sleepless nights twiddling your thumbs over these incessant thoughts like, “What does the future hold for me? What if I have chosen the wrong path? What if I lose someone who’s an important part of my life?”, followed by an endless number of “What if’s?” 

At some point or the other we’ve all given this a thought, the majority of us is still unclear with what we want in life. We spend our whole lives worrying about the future, planning for the future, trying to predict the future, as if figuring it out will cushion the blow. But the future is always changing. The future is the home of our deepest fears and wildest hopes. But one thing is certain, when it finally reveals itself, the future is never the way we imagined it.                         

Thus the only thing that truly matters is to live in the present! Moreover we’ve always been asked, “What do you want out of your life?”. The answer to this is, “I want everything and I want to be everywhere, because what’s wrong with wanting?”. Wanting is trouble free and who would not want to live an idealistic life?

However if this vague question is turned into, “What pain are you ready to deal with?”, here’s where you get your answers! This is the type of question that enables you to eliminate your choices based on the struggles/pain each step holds.

I’m not saying you have to choose an obstacle free path, because that’s just unrealistic. Every step in life is going to offer you new challenges and in order to reach the finish line, there’s no option but to overcome your fear to succumb to the rat race of success. Nevertheless once you know what things you don’t want, it makes your vision less blurry.

Say hypothetically you don’t want a career that has to deal with emergencies or that demands you to sacrifice your life for the well being of others (which is absolutely possible as not everyone is born with the thought of, for example, joining the army. Only a few have the inner determination and potential to do so). In terms of any relationship, we all have expectations, although we are told to compromise and deal with it, deep inside, we all have an imaginary ideal personality that we look for in another individual.

These aspects don’t directly help us choose “the one”(profession/person) but as we eliminate our choices based on things we are not ready to deal with or the pain we are not ready to suffer,
we can always come to a conclusion that we’d never regret.

No qualms admitting the fact that having extraordinary goals and being zestful is great, but it’s important to not just be in love with the end result or your goal; fall in love with the venture instead.

Irrespective of what you choose to do, you will have to face inevitable challenges and not be oblivious to them.                                                                                                                       

And needless to say, at some point you have to make a decision! Boundaries don’t keep other people out. They fence you in. Life is messy. That’s how we’re made. So, you can waste your lives drawing lines. Or you can live your life crossing them.

———————DHRUVI BUSA, 2 BPTH

LIFE: A BOOK

Life is like a book and each day is like a new chapter. To get to the end you need to read each chapter, you just can’t skip a few pages. Similarly you have to meet new characters, live the moments. Some chapters will make you cry for days, you will hate some characters, you will read things you don’t want to read, you will read some parts which you don’t want to end. But stories make chapters, chapters make a book and a book keeps the world revolving. I’ve met a lot of people so far and the most surprising thing is that each and every person is so different.

Some characters start off just so perfect that you start loving them. Then there are some characters which are pretty much distorted, and we dislike them. We don’t feel sympathy or empathy towards them. We slowly start to realize that not every thing is what it seems, not every thing people say is true. The character you once trusted, once loved breaks your heart.         

People can leave you confused, shattered. Sometimes your favorite character meets with a tragedy and you know that you will never be able to see them, hear their voice, look into their eyes, smile or laugh with them. You feel your heart physically ache, you cry for weeks, eventually you feel numb. You slowly start to accept things as you start growing and healing. So if it hurts, remember it’s only because it was bound to happen and there is nothing you could’ve done about it.

We meet some strong characters, who we truly admire, who we look up to. We always wonder how they’re so strong, so positive throughout their journey. No matter what life throws at them, they always manage to shine bright. We slowly start admiring them, we learn through them and try to be as strong as they are.

You will eventually come to that part of the book where you will feel sorted and happy. But you start wondering about the end of the book, you start to assume, predict the storyline. You don’t want it to end, you want to blossom over and over.

“How is the book going to end?” – there are plenty of genres, each and every one of us is reading a different type of book. Each and every one is on a different chapter. Some are broken, some are happy, some are confused.  Some are on the 20th chapter, while some are on the 57th. For some the process is slow and for some the process is fast. You can’t compare a romance novel with a mystery novel and similarly you can’t compare your life with that of others.           

“So, what now?” – the moral is to never stop. You just have to keep reading the book. Trust the process. Believe in miracles. You will experience various, at times rare situations, but this will make you stronger, wiser.

Also, if you think you have reached the end, and you feel unaccomplished, unsatisfied, you can always hope for a sequel, right?

———————PRACHITEE JOSHI, INTERN

YOUR MAA AND MY AAI

A while back, while coming home from college, I saw something that got me thinking. It was around 04.30 PM and I had boarded the Goregaon train from Wadala and was seated on the aisle seat.

Across from the seats were the doors. Near the doors sat a mother-child duo. The mother, decked in a cheap sari with the bare minimum of fake jewellery and tiredness was sitting down comfortably, cross-legged. The child, barely two, was seated beside her and was joyfully playing around with a packed polythene bag. The duo was quite shabbily dressed and it looked like hygiene to them was definitely a luxury (although the smart phone in her hand said otherwise).They were severely tanned. The mother looked worn out and least bothered about the kid and her surroundings as she stared far off, absent-minded, while toying around with the smart phone in her hand. But every once in a while, when the kid was about to do something dangerous, she would glance at him and get him back in place. But she was never restraining him.

Meanwhile the kid was having the time of his life. He was playing with a small dirty polythene bag filled with some clothes and shiny golden (fake looking) jewellery. He was banging the bag around and the jewellery clinking against the train’s metal flooring was exciting him. The doe-eyed kid smiled every time the bag landed on the floor. With the kid sitting with his feet outstretched, the sight was very endearing to watch. While playing with the bag, one of the items in the bag, an earring fell out. That caught the mother’s attention and she quietly sneaked out the bag from the kid’s hands.

Now toy-less, the kid started sweeping his hands around it on the floor. The sight would have been cute had the floor been clean but these train floors are the filthiest and grubbiest one may find. What with lakhs of people treading on them daily and then littering it all, it is only expected. But the mother didn’t seem to mind it at all. At that moment I was fervently praying that the kid would not take its hands anywhere near its mouth. Oh, but I hoped too much, for within the next few seconds, the kid had his fingers stuffed in his tiny mouth.

An expression of extreme horror and disgust flashed across my face. Along with the dirt on the floor what disturbed me more was that the global COVID-19 pandemic was still rampant and everyone everywhere was asked to follow the mandatory protocols of masking and sanitization and here this kid was touching and eating everything it could find. He was doing what a kid would instinctively do, but the mother astonishingly, was unbothered.

I was ardently shaking my head, indicating it to remove his hands from the mouth. That must have caught the mother’s eye because instead of asking the kid to remove his hand, she glared at me for a bit and then continued with her gazing out into the unknown.

She must have been offended with the way I looked at her kid so I averted my eyes. But being a medical student and above all, a fastidious person, I couldn’t help but think about all the germs that the kid already had on his hand and how many more he was collecting and transporting into his mouth. The thought in itself was abhorrent and I again went back to praying and hoping that the kid would be fine, this time with the rationale that, with all the germs the kid must have collected over his small lifetime, he most likely had developed a bulletproof immunity.

That rationale was my aai’s (my mother’s) favourite line to say when she saw kids doing something  unhygienic. So, that led me to wonder what she might have made of this sight, considering how carefully she had raised my brother and me to be neat and immaculate. She would definitely have felt bad for the kid’s health and safety. The mother’s negligence towards her kid would have definitely irked her. She would have most definitely told me not to worry, that the kid would be just fine, probably even healthier than me. And a long soliloquy featuring the importance of hygiene and the subsequent low immunity would have followed.

But that is just aai’s way of reminding us of her love and care. Eventually I started remembering the means and ways our aai had so persistently tried to instill the value of cleanliness in us, right from sweet words asking us to wash our hands, clothes or eat properly to severe reprimands and at times a good scolding, all just to get us to stay neat and tidy.                                                     

I had succumbed to her persistence long ago and have successfully adopted the neat freak attitude. Even a speck of dust on my things can set me off and keeping my body, mind and surroundings (especially my notebooks) clean has become a habit, almost a ritual. Unlike me, my younger brother is yet to come through. He needs a lot of persuasion to keep his things tidy and is sometimes sent to bathe twice only because the first time wasn’t good enough! But he is still young and again I fervently pray that he improves (for his own good).

Aai lets him be, but she frequently reminds us that these small habits of cleanliness are the ones that contribute to our principles, discipline and dictate our way of life. So much for keeping clean!

My aai takes care of us and makes sure we don’t fall ill. I spotted this other mother on the train who loved her child just as much and I am sure she has her own ways of taking care of her kid, just different than my aai’s. This may be because of her situation or her mindset. Whatever it is, the difference in her mothering definitely did not change her love for her kid, because when her destination had arrived, she quickly scooped him up in an embrace, planted a loving kiss on his head and said something that made him giggle cutely while getting off the train. Her love for the kid was pure and clean despite all the uncleanliness I have described earlier.

It reminded me of my aai’s sweet and comfortable embrace. Both of these mothers are so vastly different yet the same. That mother’s sweet little gesture made my eyes glisten, a warmth spreading inside of me, bringing a smile to my face. It made my day.

May it be their clean love or love for cleanliness, your maa and my aai are just the same. They are mothers. They will forever be, because of you and me, and that, no circumstance can change.

Your maa or my aai we love them to the moon and back, we can’t live without them.

Your maa or my aai, both are the same, just different in their approach.

Your maa and my aai are forever the best!

———————JUEE PAWAR, 2 BPTH

ON GROWTH

What exactly do we mean by ‘growing as a person’? (I mean emotionally to be specific.) Recovering from trauma or heartbreak, becoming negligibly emotionally vulnerable, or is it surviving through things like this and changing, forfeiting your original self?

I know this is subjective and different according to situations. Not everything that’s red is an apple. But the question here is, is this really growth?

Growth, taken literally, means a process where there is an addition of cells to the existing number or the existing ones increase in size. It’s towards a progressive development instead of a regressive one. Plasticity, on the other hand, in simple terms, is getting molded or shaped into something different than the existent.

Going through something that taxes are emotions isn’t easy. We need to be taught to shield our own selves, take the good out of it, add it to our original built-up and move forward. In the process of getting anxious about similar future situations, we spend so much of our time, energy and emotions that we forget to actually make the edifice strong instead. We tend to surrender ourselves to the idea of safeguarding sanity even if it costs oneself the truth of self.

And I think in today’s times of virtual reality, the phenomenon of losing one self is a story of every corner. It’s important to feel and not become emotionally stunted. Like wise, it’s important to know and preserve who you are, always. Otherwise, no one would ever be either satisfied or happy!

After all an Apple cannot be made into a cherry all though it is red!

———————MAITHILI GHULE, 4 BPTH

SELF-LOVE: THE MOST IMPORTANT KIND OF LOVE

The most important lesson to learn is to choose yourself without any doubts. Learn to be careful of how much you tolerate others. Don’t let them walk over you because you feel you deserve it. We need to stop looking for validation from others. We need to stop blaming ourselves for all the friendships that ended up being disastrous, for all the dreams that ended up being something else in the morning and for all the failures that we faced. It’s not easy but it is more than necessary to quit loving others if don’t love yourself to begin with. Love every damn inch of your mood, love every tantrum, love every intricate detail that exists in you. Self love isn’t about always being able to love yourself it’s about letting yourself grow through what you go through. I know the times are challenging but a simple ‘Hey You Made Out Of It!’ would work positively. Remind yourself of the times when you pulled yourself out of that ocean even when you didn’t know how to swim. We all in actuality deserve more accolades than we really receive. Remember to pat yourself on the back for making it so far, without cribbing about the journey that is left. You got this, so don’t sit on the sidelines, trying to see if you are worthy. You are much more than the validation you receive from others. Live well but for yourself.

————————-NEEYATI SHAH, 3 BPTH