‘Some relations are worth giving away the grudges howsoever stingy it gets.’


“Family is my treasure”, said the nine year old. The people he was surrounded by were filled with love up to the brim. Life couldn’t be any cruel when families were meant to be like that. Be it taking him out to get him chocolates to playing with him indoors and outdoors, everyone’s lil’ star he was. As he grew, he kept discovering the lovely world. Was it really lovely to him till the end?

One by one, the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle of his life kept on distorting. His aunt who was like his second-mom, who used to buy him toys and take him to his favorite places, now scares the life out of him. After the incidences that took place in his sweet-sixteen, when his parents were in California, he started fearing her more. Now that he has shifted to New York, after selling all his property in Hyderabad, returning back to Granny’s home is always a reminisence of the deadly past. His aunt has now grown old. Her kids are in their youth. Lyba, elder of the two was his favorite sister whom he loved even more than his own sister. Lyba’s mom is as good to her as she was to him except that one thing she did to him. He feels at times asking her why she ever did it and that he loved her so much. Now there are feelings that cannot be expressed. It’s not exactly hatred, it’s love neither. None of them exists anymore. There is just a wish that he forgets the part of his life that has brought this type of insecurity within.


He had been in touch with Lyra lately. She was just five months elder to him so they were more like friends. She used to be busy in her work but once in two months she used to make some time for her loving brother. That one call from her would make his day. He would tell his friends that his sweet sister had called him that day. Things were pretty lovely when ugliness stepped in. One, two, three-consecuitive incidents in a row that reminded him of the worst of dreams he saw the other night. He saw a reflection of her aunt in Lyra and that she was attempting to do the same. He cursed him everyday of thinking like that about Lyra. He tried to act as normal as he could over the conversations. Things worsened and now he doesn’t wan’t to pick up Lyra’s call anymore. He is still not over with the way she had been talking to him from a couple of days. Okay, it’s cool enough for her to discuss anything and everything with him including how she loved the ‘Wolf of WallSteet’ and wanted a life like Leo but was the conversation getting weird as it trailed? He told her that she sounded drunk that day.She laughed and said she was in the middle of the movie and would call back later. He wished that she never called back with the same tone. There was this deliemma about why he had been feeling insecure. A part of him said to figure out the harsh truth that he saw every other day and the other convinced him of thinking too much.

Lost in the truth and lies of life on earth and eternity and of family’s love and enemosity, he keeps thinking about how beautiful these people had been to him not once but many a times. How they used to love him, play with him and share joys and sorrows. Some relations are worth giving away the grudges howsoever stingy it gets.


Missing You

Everyday I wake up with a hope

A hope so positive

A hope that this wait will be over

And I’ll be next to you

You are in my heart on my mind

All the time

In my prayers in my dreams

Is what I see

Your love is what I long

Just two days that you’ve gone

And there is this missing

Major missing it is

Come home soon mommy daddy

Be well and come

It’s difficut without you

Or more difficut is it over there?



24 November 2017

Critical Analysis of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’: The Madman Tale


‘‘I’m the most terrific liar you ever saw in your life’’, says a young boy of seventeen, who is highly sensitive, trying to resolve the complexity of adulthood and loss in human values and struggling somewhere between his illusions and breakdown. However, does this comply with the absent-minded character he portrays in the novel? This is one of those classical works of J.D Salinger which got extreme popularity as well as became controversial due to its colloquial construct. Written in the first person, it is a full-fledged coming-of-age literary masterpiece which centralizes around cities of New York, Pennsylvania and then back to New York. Salinger, with his stream of consciousness writing style coupled with extraordinary contrivances of realistic fiction, makes a history in English literature.

Structured during the period of World War II, J.D Salinger’s ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ is a story of a troubled teenager, Holden Caulfield, going through emotional trauma and finding every other grown-up insincere and phony except his brother Allie and little sister Phoebe.

It revolves around the protagonist, Holden, who is distraught with the art of innocence fading in the adult age group and how he wants to be the ‘catcher’, the savior of innocence in the children falling off the cliff in their transition to adulthood.


The negativities have filled him up, so much so that all he talks about is phonies, death, hate, sadness and the materialistic world.

Holden, who admits himself as a liar, is deliberately honest to the readers while narrating his story. It is very evident from the fact that he unfolds the mysteries of his life and talks about his own dishonesty. In his line “…  you don’t know what interests you more till you start talking about something that doesn’t interest you most…” (Salinger 1951,ch24),  it is clear that his drifting into the thoughts of  Stradlater, his roommate or Robert Ackley, his neighbour and friend or the mother of a student he meets on the train, disguises the reader from what he actually wants.


Maybe he is fed up with the societal drama, the corruption, and hypocrisy and how people grow up to be ‘‘morons’’ (Salinger 1951, Ch6).  He ends up calling himself a ‘moron’, for he thinks and worries too much. For instance, he says “When I really worry … (I) go to the bathroom when I worry about something. Only, I don´t go. I´m too worried to go. I don´t want to interrupt my worrying to go” (Salinger 1951, ch6). No doubts,  the tone of the narrator is depressing and sad.


Right from the beginning till the end, the narrator makes his reasons clear, for not liking the people whom he comes across. Be it the one who killed the little James or his roommate Stradlater who bullies him, or Mr. Spenser, his History teacher, all of them have had a negative impact on his life. Then there are those girls whom he calls phonies, whom he strongly dislikes. He even talks about his brother D.B who is a great author but works as a screenwriter, which, in the eyes of the narrator is similar to selling his gifted talent. This makes him feel like people do anything when they come into to the grip of the materialistic world. Amongst all these people about whom he mentions, he seems to dearly like his younger brother Allie who died because of the leukemia attack. It can be deduced that all he ever liked was the children who hadn’t dived into adulthood and destroyed their innocence.  We can infer this as his unwillingness to grow up.

Every time I’d get to the end of a block I’d make believe I was talking to my brother Allie. I’d say to him, “Allie, don’t let me disappear. Allie, don’t let me disappear. Allie, don’t let me disappear. Please, Allie.” And then when I’d reach the other side of the street without disappearing, I’d thank him. (Salinger, ch9)


After being kicked out of Pencey Prep, he doesn’t go back to his home for the fear of facing his angry parents. Staying in another city is not a matter of joke, this shows that he was rich and mature enough to travel alone. Nothing works up for him. He is lonesome and tries to catch up with his old friends and even his ex. To kill his loneliness and in the wake of desires, he meets Sunny, the prostitute in a hotel room where he couldn’t just give himself up.  He finds casual sex as a mark of disrespect to the women. He is even distressed with all the ‘Fuck you’ signs on the walls of the school and how the world has brought about filthiness even in the innocent minds. He might have faced something very bad in the past that the over-friendly gesture of Mr. Antolini pricks his conscious and he decides to spend the night at the station. Things get worse and he decides to finally take shelter far away in the woods. Before leaving he wants to say a final goodbye to Phoebe. He drops his plan when she insists on accompanying him all the way. He frightens her with the reasons for not being able to stay in the town and go to school. But did he himself ever follow any of those life lessons he taught to his sister? Does this dream of becoming the catcher in the rye laugh at his state of mind? However, all he ends up is being alone in the company of the only person he loves to be with – his lil’ sister Phoebe.

Phoebe manages to make his brother a bit comfortable in the air around. He feels like there is more to life than what he thought. However, the exact condition of the narrator is still unknown because he never talks about his treatments. He continues to think of himself as someone who would capitulate the innocence which is lost in the transition from childhood to being adults.





If only I could…
If only I could unravel the secrets of rime
You stood by me that dark misty night
I’d crawl back in time to dive deeper
Unfurling the mysteries of those beautiful eyes

If only I could make you see
The labyrinth of our connectedness
We became parent at same nursing home
You got Aanvi and I was gifted Arhaan



Readers always told me

Write proses apart from poetry

I was never good at them

Why not poems over stories?


Poems are deeper than prose

Intensity explored

Fewer words

Plethora of emotions they hold


“Prose connect”

They recommend

“Like connecting the dots”

How did it never make sense?


Here I announce

My crippled first step

A journey of thousand miles

After multifarious attempts


A chapter on college days

Impulse and the dismays

About life outside home

Friendships and strengths


And this way I slide

From poetry to prose

Emotions inked

Stories told.


The toughest part is not talking. When you let go of the conversation just because you feel you can mess things up, is what some of us do. Whenever I feel angry, low, or annoyed, I prefer not talking at all. This somehow exempts me from uttering out words which could later lead me to the feeling of regret.


The keeping inside of things is getting me furious. I wish I could just escape from this place. The place is weird, as weird as it could be. I always said I liked this place. This is getting heavy though. I guess there has been too much of what is undesirable and too little of what is desired. However, there is always a second path or atleast the end of this road.


At this moment, I just want to stop feeling the way I do. Maybe I want to stop having those nightmares, or my kinship from becoming too obvious or from leading an unplanned life. I don’t really know what my inner self is in search of, for when I know, is the moment I’ll find it out.



I Wonder Why

It’s 3 pm in the afternoon

And the dizziness succumbs all over

I know I have gotta plan

To which I must heed

Yet I fumble and stop

And think what we are chasing

When it’s all meant to be

what’s wriiten in the stars

When the ends are to be met

And the mysteries be torn apart

Why do we still hunt for the same

Troubling the very essence of living?

What Can Stop You?

So you feel like it’s not turning out the way you wanted, right? You seem to be hindered by these clumsy little junks. Just think, if these problems you are facing are larger than your envisaged dreams? Question yourself about how much hours you afford to lose under the umbrella of your grievances.

The left side of my face hurts. Perhaps it was some kind of venous insect bite that has spread its fluid across the cheek bone reaching the upper part of the lips. My friend is vexed due to those abscess that make him lose sleep and thus hampering his packed schedule. Another friend of mine lost her mother out of nowhere a week back. She was devastated. A friend of friend of mine died of brain cancer few days back.


My question is ‘What can stop you’? The perplexed situation you are undergoing or the trauma of your friend? Your inner self to whom you are unable to convince or the laziness that bumps in everytime you think of doing something? What is it that is stopping you from being happy? Stopping you from living every moment to the best of it?




Little did you realise, it’s you who is stopping you.

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I had reached the very phase of my adulthood that kept me from doing the things I ought to be doing. Yes, there was a lack of urge to do. To be. To feel.

I think I lacked a push, a trigger that could mold me today for a better tomorrow but stimulus ain’t no magic wand. Or maybe they weren’t strong enough for me to hold on to my beliefs. I wasn’t focusing. Not at all. I was reluctant to even start because it always felt like I have already missed behind something important. It didn’t come from the inside, the voice that would tell me reasons for my existence, for the reasons I belong here, all went into mutism.


Just Do Something


And then I understood this. I don’t really need to do it right. I just need to do something. It will eventually turn alright. Yesterday was the day-1. I had a good day. Some disappointments, some regrets and an urge to do something better today! I do not care if I have my exams tomorrow; I’m doing what I love and I’m so in love with what I’m doing.