aS Shorts #1: With an Umbrella half opened.

Hiatus brews ideas. Here's a new one.

Presenting to you, aS shorts - short stories that will melt like butter on warm hearts. Enjoy.

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aS Shorts #1: With an Umbrella half opened.

"Oh no, not again! What's wrong with Mumbai!!!" I exclaimed as a perfectly fine Mumbai evening turned first into a drizzly walk to the bus stop and then with some 100 more steps left, cruelly went on to pour heavily. Talking angrily to myself I begun to open my blue bordered umbrella. "You can't trust anything here. Struggle for everything. This is just not done!" And BEST bus 172 overtook me, quite literally. With an Umbrella half opened, I realised that this was the bus I was supposed to catch.

With an Umbrella half opened, I ran!

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The dazed twenty-something.

This ordinarily mundane age has been so widely celebrated and exploited through its fulsome usage by the internet media , that there is a certain subconscious whisper constantly ringing a cacophony in the mind- “You’re in your twenties. What have you achieved?” This is followed by a balletic nerve-wrecking activity in the tummy, a quiet moment of deep introspection, and ends with me facing back to the computer screen, leaving the mind-fuck plaque to gradually decay the mental peace.

Meg Jay in her TED Talk, ‘Why 30 is NOT the new 20’ quite calmly puts forth a statement that ‘the human brain has its second and final growth spurt in a person's twenties, as it re-wires itself for adulthood.’

Coming from a psychologist [I don’t know why, but I have this inexplicable reverence for them], it scared the shit out of me. My decade had arrived. Now was the time. I had to change my life.

 Convinced me? Yes. Motivated me? Yes. Entirely? No. 

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Each one of us lives a different life.

Yes, there’s a specific word for that very realization - that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk. It’s called sonder.

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Yoga-losophy: Cheers to a new You, Me aur Hum

At the onset, let me provide a disclaimer: this article is not about a sequel to Kajol’s movie which I have figured out by eavesdropping in CCD while she was sharing a cup of coffee with KJo. Its about Yoga. Ah, are you sighing in disappointment? Well, I hope I can change your views if you bear with me and read on. Actually, the very clichéd response yoga gathers from several people prevented me from having that word in the title!
                              
Personally, I feel we all misinterpret the word and all the various meanings it can have. I’ll tell you why and how.

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The Play of Life.

Shivers of reluctance are bound to run through the body when leaving the womb-like wings made with the very sole aim of comforting the soul. It is the inertia of human, that brings about his indolent likeness to a comfortable situation, and fear enters fearlessly into his mind, obscuring his view to the world beyond.

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Morph me Green!

My thesis topic brought me back to the rural India, and as always I took with myself my digicam, the infidelity of which I decided to revenge by painting them the color I wanted to see them in.

Hence I morphed them green. All of them; even the black and white ones. Green, after all is more than a color.

I am what I am.

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