REMEMBERING MY GRAND UNCLE, THE ENGINEER WHO BROUGHT LIGHT

  

In my childhood memories, I often recall the way my granduncle wrote his name. Before his initials, he would carefully add “Er.”, the respectful title for an engineer. It was more than a formality—it was a quiet reminder of his life’s work and the pride he carried in his profession.

He served as an electrical engineer in the erstwhile Andhra Pradesh during the years 1969–1974, a period when electricity was still a distant dream for many rural communities. Through his dedication, he helped create power lines, install poles, and extend the reach of electricity into remote villages. What we take for granted today—light in homes, fans to ease the summer heat, the ability to cook, study, and live after dusk—was, in those days, a marvel.

Under his guidance, many regions of the Nellore district and surrounding areas, including Rappur, Junnavada, Buchireddypalayam, and parts of the Chittoor district, were electrified for the very first time. Villagers, grateful for the transformation, showered him with blessings that went beyond official recognition.

Looking back now, I realize how remarkable his contribution was. He was not only bringing power lines to villages—he was helping weave a new future, one where children could study at night, families could live more comfortably, and communities could grow with hope.

His work is worth remembering, not only as part of our family’s pride but as a chapter in the story of rural progress in Andhra Pradesh.

MORE THAN A SOFT TOY

      

Infants begin
with closed fists—
white and red,
like the sun
about to rise.

They grow,
thumb resting in their mouth,
fingers curling around
the saree’s edge of the mother,
the sacred thread of the father—
building a small,
secure world.

A few months later,
with tiny movements,
gentle manners,
they reach for toys—
holding them close,
day and night,
whispering in their own language,
never alone.

A soft toy becomes a world.

Sometimes it is a spoon,
a cup,
a tumbler—
clutched for years
as a secret friend.
Sometimes a locket,
a ring,
a bracelet—
shining with unseen magic.

And now,
Doraemon walks beside them,
on TV,
on mobiles,
everywhere they go.

These bonds,
woven with innocence,
give strength,
bring laughter,
carry a quiet promise—
that joy will stay,
and life will be kind.

FINDING A NEW VOICE IN STORY TELLING

 

 

For as long as I can remember, writing has been my natural form of storytelling. I read a lot, and writing feels like an extension of that habit—almost like a quiet conversation with myself and the page. It gives me a sense of comfort and joy.

Lately, though, I’ve been experimenting with a new medium: Swell. It’s a platform where storytelling takes the shape of spoken words. Here, I share my thoughts by talking, while listeners tune in, respond, and even add their own voices to the conversation. What excites me most is that it’s not just a one-way exchange—there’s space for dialogue, whether through comments, written reflections, or even spoken replies.

On Swell, I often find myself gravitating toward familiar loves—books, poetry, and literary discussions. I also enjoy participating in community prompts, like those from Ask Your Author or the Classic Poetry Club. Each prompt nudges me into fresh directions, helping me see stories from new angles and hear how others respond too.

This shift from writing to speaking feels like an expansion rather than a replacement. It’s storytelling in another voice—one that’s spontaneous, conversational, and alive in the moment. And yet, at its core, it is still about the same thing I’ve always cherished: sharing stories, exchanging ideas, and finding joy in words.

(This blog post is part of BlogChatter's BlogHop. Details here: https://www.theblogchatter.com/blogchatter-blog-hop-a-new-way-to-write-collectively)

THE COME BACK BY ANNIE ZAIDI

    

Annie Zaidi’s The Come Back has been receiving praise both online and offline, and I couldn’t help but notice the many glowing reviews. As someone who mostly leans toward non-fiction, I usually think twice before picking up a work of fiction. At first, I even assumed this book might resemble the Madhuri Dixit starrer Aaja Nachle, where the central theme is about returning to the stage. That initial assumption kept it lingering on my TBR list for a while.

When I discovered that The Come Back had made it to the Blogchatter Book List, I finally decided it was time to read it. I rushed to the library to get a copy, only to find that it had already been borrowed. To my relief, the librarian assured me it would be returned by August 20, 2025. That promise felt like a fresh breath of air, and true to the date, I finally held the book in my hands. Interestingly, in the waiting period, I ended up reading The Book Seller of Mogga, which was a delightful interlude.

Coming to The Come Back itself, I found it to be a deeply layered and evolving narrative. At its core, it is a story about friendship, loyalty, honesty, integrity, and the quiet yet powerful theme of secrecy. Zaidi captures how one unintentional mistake can ripple through two lives, changing the course of both. The novel beautifully explores the journey of reclaiming not just a lost friendship, but also passion and purpose.

The book also highlights the places we belong to and the longing we carry when we are away from them. Performing arts, especially theatre, take center stage. The role of theatre in small towns and villages, the messages carried through plays, and the sheer dedication of artists to their craft are handled with an artistic and sensitive glance. This layer adds a cultural richness to the novel, grounding it in both place and performance.

As one reviewer observed, “the story is ultimately about a return to many things: to old friendships and true love, to the stage and the authenticity of one’s art, to lost threads of the past and the warmth of childhood homes. There’s a ‘comeback’ in here that stings too, and also surprises.” This reflection captures the spirit of the book and explains why its title feels so fitting.

What stood out most to me was the way the book portrays society’s tendency to turn away from victims, to overlook their struggles, and to question their truths. In contrast, the protagonist’s resilience, passion, and determination form the backbone of the story. The title itself — The Come Back — resonates strongly, as it is not just about returning, but about reclaiming dignity, connection, and life.

Zaidi’s storytelling is simple yet striking, making The Come Back a rewarding read. For someone like me who usually prefers non-fiction, this book turned out to be a pleasant surprise — reminding me why fiction too can hold mirrors to life, struggles, and hope.

AUTUMN JOURNEYS : WHERE POETRY, BOOKS AND TRAVEL MEET

   

 

Autumn has arrived—the season of amber light, quiet skies, and gentle breezes that carry the scent of ripening fields. It is often called the poet’s season, a time when the world softens into verse and landscapes become painted pages. With its peaceful beauty, autumn invites not just travel but a slower, more reflective journey—one that feels like reading a favorite book.

 When Books Become Maps

Literature has always guided wanderers. Ruskin Bond’s stories pull readers into the misty lanes of Mussoorie, just as Keats’ poetry makes one long for an English countryside walk under fading leaves. Autumn is the perfect excuse to set off on such literary pilgrimages—to curl up with a book in a café tucked away in Shimla, or to wander Tuscany’s vineyards where the hills roll like lines of prose.

Destinations that Feel Like Poetry

Autumn destinations are not always grand; they are often idyllic, intimate, and soaked in silence:

A riverside ghat in Varanasi glowing with evening diyas.

A coffee estate in Coorg, where mornings smell of earth and dew.

The Scottish Highlands, where every turn feels like a stanza.

Japan’s temple towns, draped in crimson maple leaves, like pages of an unfolding haiku.

Each place becomes more than a stop on a map—it becomes a line in the poem of the season.

 The Season of Idleness and Wonder

Travelers today are not just moving; they are pausing. Autumn encourages slow travel—weekend retreats with books, silent stays in heritage homestays, walks through misty forests, or journaling by the fireside. It is the season where doing little feels like doing everything because autumn itself is the talking—through colors, air, and stillness.

 

 Autumn reminds us that journeys need not be hurried. They can be poetic, bookish, and unhurried—just like turning the pages of a story we never want to end.

PLEDGE YOURSELF NOT TO DO- A GENTLE STEP TOWARDS INNER PEACE

 

Life often throws us into situations where words fly faster than thoughts. A small disagreement can snowball into a heated argument, leaving behind regret, bitterness, or restlessness. But what if we could pause, hold ourselves back, and choose peace over conflict? That’s where the idea of “pledging yourself not to do” comes in—a simple yet powerful form of self-discipline.

What Does It Mean?

Pledging yourself not to do is not about suppression. It’s about choosing restraint over reaction. It means promising yourself:

Not to argue just for the sake of winning.

Not to respond when anger is at its peak.

Not to drag a conversation into unnecessary fights.

Not to let someone else’s negativity disturb your calm.

Why It Matters

Protects your peace: You no longer carry the burden of anger.

Strengthens relationships: Silence at the right time saves bonds from breaking.

Builds self-control: Every “not to” strengthens your inner discipline.

Maintains calmness: You stay grounded even in disturbing situations.

A Gentle Practice

Each morning, take a quiet moment and set your inner pledge. For example:
“Today, I pledge myself not to argue unnecessarily, not to raise my voice in anger, and not to lose my calm.”

It acts like a soft inner reminder throughout the day.

Closing Thought

Discipline isn’t always about doing more. Sometimes, it’s about doing less—stepping back, holding silence, and keeping peace alive. The pledge of not to do is a gentle way to guard your inner calm and gift serenity to those around you.

 

GANESH CHATURTHI- THIS TIME WITH MY TRAVEL COMPANION

 

For the first time, I will be carrying my little orange Ganeshji idol with me as I celebrate Ganesh Chaturthi away from home. It feels special—like forming a new bond with my Lord, celebrating His birthday in a simple yet heartfelt way.

My plan is not elaborate: just to offer Him a flower, sit quietly in prayer, and seek His blessings. Sometimes, simplicity brings the deepest connection.

What makes it even more joyful is the thought of Ganapati being my travel companion this time. I did not want to miss celebrating His day, so I decided to take Him along. Though I believe He is everywhere, having Him placed in my room will make the celebration more personal and comforting.

This small step fills me with happiness and hope—that the day will unfold peacefully, that my prayers will reach Him, and that this new way of celebrating will become a cherished memory.

After all, festivals are not just about grandeur; they are about love, faith, and the quiet joy of togetherness with the divine.

THE PRINCESS WHO WOVE HOPE - A LESSON FOR LIFE

In my school days, stories often came alive not just as tales of adventure, but as lessons hidden beneath the surface. One such story that stayed with me is that of Princess Anya of Eldoria.

Anya was no ordinary princess. She disguised herself as a stable boy, “Ash,” simply to learn the language of the neighboring kingdom of Aethelgard. At first, this might seem like nothing more than curiosity or mischief. But years later, when Prince Caspian was captured and could only send out a message through a carpet woven with hidden words, it was Anya’s skill in the language that became the key to his rescue. What began as a daring school of self-learning turned into the saving of a kingdom.

This story reminds me of the importance of learning skills beyond the classroom. Just like Anya, in our school days we may wonder why we must learn mathematics, languages, or even practical skills like painting, debating, or cooking. But life has a way of surprising us. A skill learned casually, even out of curiosity, may become the very strength that helps us face adversities.

In my own student days, I recall struggling with public speaking. At first, I thought it unnecessary. Yet, when the time came to present ideas, to speak in competitions, or even defend myself in tough situations, that very skill became my shield.

Anya’s story tells us that no learning ever goes wasted. Whether it is a language, an art, or a craft, each skill is a light we carry with us. And when darkness surrounds us, it is these small lights that show the way.

AMLA AND WATER - A SIMPLE DAILY HEALTH TONIC

   

When it comes to natural health boosters, amla (Indian gooseberry) deserves a top spot. Packed with Vitamin C, antioxidants, and rejuvenating properties, this humble fruit has been a part of Ayurveda for centuries. While most people take amla in the form of juice, powder, or pickles, there’s an even simpler way to enjoy its benefits—just cook it and consume it along with the water.

How to Do It:

Wash a few fresh amlas thoroughly, or  at least one per day

Cut them into halves or quarters (you may remove the seed if you prefer).

Boil them in 1–2 cups of water until they turn soft.

Once done, consume both the softened amla pieces and the water.

Why This Works:

The boiling process helps release Vitamin C, tannins, and antioxidants into the water.

Drinking the water ensures you don’t miss out on any nutrients.

The softened fruit becomes less sour and easier to eat.

Taken regularly, this simple tonic supports digestion, immunity, skin health, and blood sugar balance.

A Simple Tip:

For an extra health kick, add a pinch of turmeric and black pepper while boiling. This not only enhances the flavor but also improves nutrient absorption.

Final Thoughts

Sometimes, the best health practices are also the simplest. Amla boiled in water, consumed warm or at room temperature, can become a quick, no-fuss addition to your daily wellness routine. Try it for a week and see how your body responds—you might be surprised at the subtle yet powerful changes it brings.

LEARNING FROM THE YOUNG

     

We often think of childhood as a stage to “grow out of.” Yet, if we pause and watch closely, it becomes clear that children carry a wisdom many of us lose along the way. Their ways of living—simple, natural, and unforced—are lessons waiting for us to relearn.

1. The Art of Forgiveness

Children forgive and forget faster than we can imagine. A quarrel over a toy is resolved in minutes, replaced by laughter and play. As Tolstoy once wrote, “Little girls are wiser than men.”

2. A Life of Play

Play is not an “extra” for them—it is life itself. Every corner is a playground, every moment a chance to discover joy.

3. Honest Expression

Children don’t hold back their words. They express their wants, thoughts, and ideas openly—even to strangers. There is no hesitation, no filter.

4. Fearless Adventure

The unknown doesn’t scare them; it excites them. With no worries about what might go wrong, they step into the world as explorers.

5. Trust in the Future

Children don’t brood over what tomorrow holds. Their freedom lies in their trust—an unshaken belief that the future will be good.

6. The Gift of Letting Go

A child may cry bitterly, then sleep soundly, only to wake up cheerful and fresh, as if nothing ever happened. They know—instinctively—that emotions, like clouds, are meant to pass.

7. Love Without Conditions

Perhaps their greatest gift: pure love. They hug freely, smile openly, and express affection without worrying about being misunderstood.

 

The Gentle Reminder

Children show us that happiness isn’t hidden in achievements or possessions—it lives in forgiveness, play, freedom, and love. To learn from the young is to live lightly, to embrace the present moment, and to keep our hearts unburdened.

Maybe growing up doesn’t mean leaving childhood behind. Maybe it means carrying its wisdom with us, always.

(This blogpost is a part of BLOGCHATTER's #BLOGHOP. Details here : https://www.theblogchatter.com/blogchatter-blog-hop-a-new-way-to-write-collectively)

THE SILENT KISS

                       

A baby is born—
wrapped in soft white,
breathing gently,
half-asleep,
a trace of a cry still lingering in the air.

The sister carries this tiny bundle
from the stillness of the ward
to the waiting arms of the mother.

The father stands close,
eyes fixed,
heart rushing ahead of time,
as if he too is being born again.

The mother,
her body weary from the long storm of pain,
rests, breathes,
waits—
and then at last,
the weight of the child settles in her arms.

She studies the face,
the skin, the fragile fingers,
searching for traces of God
in every curve and color.

In that moment,
time halts.

Tears fall freely—
of gratitude, of surrender,
of love that has no language.

No sound, no word is needed.
The world begins anew
with a silent kiss.