Inkblot

I hope you didn’t autocorrect ‘unique’ to ‘weird’ in your mind, nvm. While the universe creates humans, we are all unique. Over time, we’re influenced by society, family, and the friends we choose. But if you zoom out a little, it’s easy to broadly categorize people as unique, common, or somewhere in between. Of course, this is totally relative to one’s opinion. So, do you want to know why I think I’m unique? Well, I don’t really know what runs in people’s heads. I only know mine, and maybe this is just a classic case of a frog in a well thinking it’s special. For all I know, the things I’m about to share might be running in everyone’s mind, but since I’ve never talked about them with anyone, I can’t help but think I’m the only one who does these things. When you see me being quiet, I’m not at all! There’s always something going on in my mind. Most of the time, I’m drawing something in the air—not with my hands, but with my eyes. They don’t make any sense. Sometimes, it’s a telephone w...

A big wave! It hit hard but the sand did not dishearten. The sand was shining. The Sun, veiled in clouds, was ready to sign off for the day. The sand’s soul shattered into a hundred thousand grains, yet it remained a single body. A big wave again! The sand was cleansed to its purest, as if healing from bruised human footprints. Another giant wave! A tiny boy sought a hug, and the wave cradled him in her bosom. Foam wove patterns like silver lace on brown velvet, a fleeting masterpiece for the sand. The waves hummed lullabies to the restless shore, their song as old as the Earth. A wave again! Milky lather embraced the brown sand, soothing and consoling, lovingly. - Namrata

The bright, hopeful eyes were gleaming. Radhajji was desperately waiting for her son to come home. Not that she was meeting him after a long time, but she'd asked him to buy her a new japamaala. Though she hadn’t explicitly mentioned wanting oranges, she was expecting them. She knew her son would bring her favorite oranges and snacks, as he often did. Yet, Radhajji pretended not to care. But everyone at home could feel her excitement. "You’re acting as if tomorrow is your birthday, Ajji!" her grandson, Ashish, teased as he dashed inside, his face sweaty and glowing from hours of cricket outdoors. "Haan?! Burth-a-day??! Radhajji said, confused for a moment before breaking into a wide, toothy smile. “I don’t even know when my burth-a-day is, kanda. I just remember my amma once saying I was born on the eighth day of Vaishakha maasa. If anyone remembered back then, amma would make jaggery and coconut sweets and braid my hair with new red ribbons. But I had to give the ri...

We have a beautiful ritual of offering flowers to women along with turmeric. Be it a little baby girl, a lady, or an elder woman, the gesture is timeless and heartwarming. Havyaka Brahmin tradition is rich, authentic, and rooted in practices that date back hundreds of years. Offering turmeric and kumkum is one such cherished tradition. Kumkum is a vibrant red powder made from turmeric and camphor—an intriguing mix of nature and purity. Turmeric, known for its antibacterial properties, symbolizes health and wellness. Camphor, with its soothing fragrance, is believed to have calming effects on the mind. Kumkum isn’t just cosmetic; it’s a way of connecting with divine energies while ensuring you’re radiating both health and positivity! Here’s how it goes: turmeric is applied lightly on either side of the chin, close to the ears, while the red kumkum is applied as a small circle on the forehead, between the eyebrows. Now, why between the eyebrows, you ask? Scientifically, this spot corresp...

"Oh, what a shot! That's a monster six! Virat Kohli finishes it off in style! Royal Challengers Bangalore are through to the finals! What a moment, what a game!" exclaimed Harsha Bhogle, his voice brimming with excitement. All the players were ecstatic, practically flying in their jubilation. They hugged each other, high-fiving in the air like children who’d just won the ultimate prize. The team anthem reverberated through the stadium, amplifying the electrifying energy of the moment. Neeraj was over the moon. WhatsApp messages flooded his inbox. One notification read, "Machaa, I said no, we won!" from the Dream11 Benki Boyzz group. Another read, "5000 nenpirli, naaLe sigtini" from the Betting group, roughly translating to "Don’t forget, it’s 5000. See ya tomorrow!" He swiped away all the notifications with an air of satisfaction. Lying on his bed, Neeraj stared at the ceiling, feeling a rare sense of calm and contentment. The bed beneat...