On Picking up My Favorite-Book

When I picked you up for the first time, I wondered what you were all about: what were those thoughts that remained hidden behind those pages, readily offering themselves to be read; how much labor and how many hours had gone into your making; how many schools of thought were imbibed in the pages; how many pictures were lurking behind those words…

While I read you, I became oblivious to the other world holding that piece of world, you. I came across novel ideas, words, thoughts and theories; each one more immersing than the previous one. I learnt and thanked the author and the world.

You always held a special place in my heart. I carried you wherever I could, but never got tired of you. I would abhor anyone who would ask for borrowing you.

Today when I picked you up once again, I smiled: such a wonder of the world are you. It seemed as if you had your own story to tell: “She was reading me when she was on the way to meet her crush; she would often carry me in her bags; she used the purple- and blue-colored pens while studying me…”

You and I share a relation that no one can fathom, perhaps, even visualize. So for you, who never refuses to teach, I thank the world.

                                                                                                                                        

                                                                                                                            -Kriti Malhotra

A Love-Poem

The rays of the Sun touch me;
When you are around, they love me.
The flowers spread their fragrance,
They enter my door and praise me.
The colors of the skies reach me;
When you are in my mind's eye,
When you are in my mind's eye;
All those colors embrace me.
Which color of the rainbow are you?
Gold, red, pink, lavender, all or blue?
You must know: "I love you"


                                                    -Kriti Malhotra

How can you love yourself?

Self-love is taking the responsibility for your mental, physical, emotional and spiritual well-being. It is about appreciating yourself for whatever you are; it is about being your own well-wisher; it is also about loving others if you are able to share that love; it about knowing what makes you happy. Most importantly, it is about knowing to take care of yourself. This self-love should be differentiated from extreme narcissism in which the person sees another person just as a tool. Self-love is not about respecting and loving yourself only but also respecting another individual and their personal boundaries.

Some of the ways in which you can love yourself are:-

Appreciate yourself: Whatever is the shape and size of your nose or the color of your hair, appreciate all that. Remind yourself of the bright aspects of you.

Work on your self-esteem: Develop your self-esteem by doing useful things such as enrolling yourself in a yoga class, taking up the classes of a course that you have been wishing to take, eating a healthy snack.

Try to stay positive: Look at the positive aspects of your life, laugh a lot and enjoy a walk in nature.

Positive self-talk: Say positive things to yourself while talking with yourself such as being patient with your mistakes and even use words of endearment.

Take out time for yourself and do little things for yourself.

Maintain healthy boundaries with toxic people.

Self-love is something that cannot be cultivated in a day. It is a continuous process and requires patience.

Take care!

:)

                                      - Kriti Malhotra

Writing reminds me of space

Writing begins when a child learns her first alphabets. When I think about writing, I become awed by the magnificent ability of human beings to write. In the beginning, writing was something that I could do and now, I have developed a deep understanding of writing, not to forget the excitement I feel when I am about to begin writing something because every piece that I write, takes to me a voyage to an unknown sea of unexplored thoughts and emotions. I look forward to see what and how the next piece of writing would turn out to be.

I have also become very close in my relationship with the art and science of writing. Writing is a dream for some, a way of flowing for some, a subject to study for some, a path to education for some, a passion for some, a way of connecting with God for some, health and healing for some, a means of earning for some and a discipline for some. For me, writing is all this and I hope that becomes more for me.

What is writing? Writing is all the energy around us: the words that people are saying, the emotions that we are experiencing, the thoughts that that go through our mind.

Writing enables a person to be creative. When you think about the words you can use and the way you can present something. I hope writing becomes a habit for everyone.

When does writing come to an end?

I cannot make you love me.

People have called me ‘amazing’; people have told me that I deserve someone better. The reality is that I have never been in a proper relationship. The reality is that I do not know that if I ever fall in love with someone, the other person will see how “amazing” I am and this is not about me. This does not mean that I am unlovable for many people fear that this is what it will mean. It is not necessary that my man (if ever I have a man), is exactly the way I imagine him to be. I am sure that the relationship would not be like a cooking recipe: add these ingredients, stir and the person is yours. He will have his own likes and dislikes and I will have to understand them the way he will have to understand mine. I have come across people who cry because they did something for the other person and the other person did not reciprocate the love. You cannot make another person love you. I cannot make you love me. I cannot make you love me the way I would expect you to love me because everyone loves differently.

“Because Words are Brighter than the Stars”

I wish to sprinkle this piece with glitter, stars and unicorn dust; I wish to remind you of dragonflies, butterflies and chirping birds; I wish to remind you of the light showers of rains, sunshine and dotted night-sky; Did you notice the magic? I do not believe that magic happens only when some potions are mixed in a cauldron; I do not believe that magic happens only when the magician says “Abracadabra”; I believe that magic happens when the child speaks her first words. Yes, the first time when she calls her mother ‘mom’ and it is enough to light her up unfathomably. Magic happens when we utter, understand, read or write a word. The mind makes out the letters, the word and then the sentence in a jiffy. Well! That’s magical!

Words are so powerful! They have the power to break or make someone; they have the power to heal someone and fill them with hope; they have the power to foster understanding between people; they have the power to unite (MeToo); they have the power to make love known; they have the power to sprinkle peals of laughter. Words can be brought together in a musical song.

Words are as beautiful as the word beautiful! Together words and words make up a beautiful piece of writing. You have a beautiful name that imparts your identity. There is a word for all the beautiful things in the world: earth, waterfalls, orbs, galaxies, you…

So exchange words just like you exchange glances; utter words just as naturally as you breathe; feel the sense of the words rippling through you and notice the magic happen all around.

                                                                                                                      -Kriti Malhotra

Will Areena Forget?

Areena returned home from her dance class. She rushed to her room and looked at herself in the mirror. She pulled her black hair back, extended her right leg backwards and smiled at herself; she then took off her jacket and observed her body-shape. Looking at her slim frame, she smiled again. She walked downstairs for dinner singing to herself.

The lamp was switched on oozing out honey-like light. Areena stopped and bent down to smell the roses she had bought the other day and inhaled the smell. Still sweet! She set the table and sat on the brown chair to eat her food. Her father came and sat in front of her. She continued to eat.

“Where is the chappati?” Mr. Patel shouted.

“It’s here, it’s here” said Areena’s mother putting a chappati on his plate.

“Where is the vegetable that I had asked you to make?” Mr. Patel shouted again.

“How dare you speak to my mother like that?” said Areena.

“Will you teach me how to speak to my wife?”

“Papa if you expect other people to respect you then you must respect others too,” said Areena.

“Don’t respect me; who is asking you to respect me? Rina ask this girl to shut up or I will in my way,” said Mr. Patel.

Areena stood up and shouted: “I do not mind; you can do whatever you like to do. Come on, hit me; hit me.”

Mr. Patel stood up and was about to hit Areena when Mrs. Patel came out of the kitchen and stood in-between them.

“Mamma, let him hit me. Hit me, hit me, hit me.”

Mr. Patel pushed Mrs. Patel and slapped Areena on her cheek.

Areena looked at him and screamed out aloud.

“Ha! You scream like that and nobody will ever love you.”

Areena ran to her room and closed the door. She cried for sometime after which she picked up a book to complete her homework. As soon as she opened it, she threw it away. Nobody will love me! Nobody will love me! She lay on the cold floor behind the closed door and went off to sleep there.

“Areena wake up! Wake up sweetheart”, the  voice of a man fell on Areena’s ears.

“Nobody will love me! Nobody will love me!” she cried loudly.

“But I will Areena; I will always love you even when you are angry; when you are depressed; when you are at your lowest; I will always love you,” said Riyan and held her in his arms.

“Please tell me that you will never hit me.”

“Why would I hit you? Did you dream of your father again?”

Areena nodded her head and Riyan kissed her on her forehead.

                                                                                                                         -Kriti Malhotra

Why do I read?

My relationship with reading had begun with the fairy-tales. I clearly remember reading the abridged versions of 'Cinderella' and 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs'. At that time, however, reading was meaningless for me; as meaningless as life was for me. My first real relationship with reading began when one of my aunts gifted me a book called 'The Famous Five' by Enid Blyton. It was my first novel of adventure and realism. I started frequenting the book-store as a result. I must admit that since then, the journey has not been without its periods of droughts.

For me, reading is as good as a therapy; it calms me down when my mind is going helter-skelter and makes me feel fulfilled. However cliched and naive as it may sound, books have been sort of my friends. They have given m company when I have been physically sick or emotionally perturbed. Sometimes, when I am able to do nothing, I pick up a book!

Reading helps me to explore alternative points of view; to understand them and therefore, be able to visualize the vast spectrum of human thoughts and emotions.

Reading makes my world a bit interesting. Every book has something different in it. Many writers chose to document their own experiences through writing. These experiences reflect the complexities of life; how human beings have stood strong in difficult situations and the different paths that they have walked on to make their lives work. Not only does this make books interesting but also inspiring.

Often, reading helps me escape into another world in which I forget about my troubles and enter a dream-like state. Some of the reading is done viscerally. In this context, reading has an escapist function for the readers.

Reading is also an achievement. The number of books read and the number of pages read in a day often gives me a sense of satisfaction.

Reading has helped me expand my mind, become more sympathetic to the under-privileged and the oppressed, helped me appreciate life and the people in it more and of course, acted as a good friend.

                                                                                                                   -Kriti Malhotra

Nina and Rina are Best Friends

It was the first day of the college. Nina looked around at the classroom with contempt. Some of the students were jeering at one another and some were mocking at the teacher. I scorn at people who engage in such behaviour. Teasing one another or poking fun at one another is alright but mocking?

She sat next to a quiet girl.

“Hi, my name is Nina. Yours?”

“Rina”

They say together everyday.

Soon, Nina made other friends in the college. However, she told Rina: “You are my best friend, Rina.”

Rina invited her to her house and showed her the squibs she had written against the various problems of the society. She even told her about her interest in multimedia and the spoof that she had uploaded on YouMake (a website for uploading videos). It had one lakh views. How impressive!

One day while they were looking for a place to sit in the class, someone sneered: “Lesbians; you both are lesbians!”

Nina felt humiliated but Rina told her: “You should not pay attention to such pillories.”

In the next few days, Nina and Rina were taunted, ridiculed and made sport of but nothing could break their strong friendship.

                                                                                                                        -Kriti Malhotra