To my mom… 


         long 8 years has passed.. I disappeared from that world.. from everyone’s mind.. from all the media coverage.. They got new lives to show case as victims.. They got new gossips to pass on.. But you… Even today you are holding my invisible hands.. you are praying for me.. you are crying for me.. smiling for me.. you are fighting for me!!! 

     You are the best mom.. even though they killed your motherhood,,even though they poured acid on our dreams.. 

    That 15 years of my life.. it was short but I could touch your heart.. I could feel your affection.. you proved me that a mother can be more than a mother.. you remember mom when I told you I want to travel around the world.. Next day evening you came home with a great plan..

 “we are going to Goa Scarlet.. it’s in India.. we are gonna have the best vacation ever”

You were more excited than me.. I remember you were so happy because you were trying to make your daughter happy.. make her dreams come true.. 

 But when that dark shadow of death touched me?? When the fate decided to turn her face against me.. we were enjoying our holidays.. we saw the sunset.. we played.. but that sunset was an invitation to my death.. my sun set that day for ever with a scream of helplessness… 

When they tore me apart I cried silently.. I tried to save myself.. I called out for help.. but … Those masked man were safe under the shade of night.. They allowed me to drown to death.. 

        I know Mom, since that day you are fighting.. It’s not only my life they ruined but yours too.. They not only chopped my wings but yours. When my fate chose me to be the victim of their hunger you were chose to be the living victim of their knives.. 

Why we need a world like this mom to create more mothers and daughters like us? Yes mom all of us are scared to sleep.. scared to close our eyes.. I saw those red violent eyes .. mom I pray no other girl will see those red eyes again.. even though the owners of those red eyes are free and everywhere.. 

You were my strength.. you are my Justice.. the best mom.. 

                         Yours loving


                         From heaven

#scarletkeeling #death #rape #goa #india #womensafety#mother


Book review:  when you lose yourself in ‘Americanah’

So we are adding ‘Americanah’ to our syllabus of American studies..

When my professor said those words it gave birth to a question, 

When we are studying American studies how could a Nigerian author added ?? How could Adichie explains us about America?? 

But the answer is quite simple.. when you want to see yourself or to know how beautiful you are, you look in the mirror or ask your friend.. yes Adichie shows a different reflection of America..

   Despite of the thought of reading a huge book when you are ready to go ahead with the novel for the sake of examination , americanah  opens the door for you..

     It has a strong power to drag you, to take you along with Ifemelu .. we feel her consciousness.. we touch her soul.. and we travels from Nigeria to America and to England … Adichie not only shows the racism but also many other struggles, wars a woman, a black woman, a black woman from another continent has to go through.. 

It also unwraps the beauty America with the gloss of reality.. 

When the tears freeze to strength  Ifemelu gets back her identity.. 

What touched me most is the Dike.. ifemelu’s cousin.. A true reflection of a teenager without identity. He finds himself as a dark spot.. He tries to dissolve himself by creating an identity of someone else.. a mask.. But miserably he fails to live as someone else. He doesn’t know what he was.. He doesn’t where his roots are uprooted. Imigration, race or whatever it is creating many Dikes.. 

Yes,we have to be ourselves.. so we have to know what we are.. we need identity to keep our heads high.. 

#bookreview #racism 

“Retired.. But not tired”

#story #creativewriting                   

“Julie.. I have to go sweetie.. Don’t drag me”

Juliet,a white cat bites and drag Clara’s kurta to stop her going out . Clara Pampers Julie with love. Romeo also joins them to gets his share from mommy. 

            However Clara manages to gets out of the house. She wears favorite blue kurta ang black goggles. Her short silky hair fly when she walks straight ,keeping her head high.. There is no sign of black hair on her head. Her cheeks are wrinkled but it glows when sun kisses her. 

             Everyone wishes with respect wherever she goes. From street children to high professionals are her students. She is ‘mom’ for many children.. she teaches them to dream for a better tomorrow… 

         When she retired at her age of 55 she started studying for another master’s degree. Now she is in her mid seventies. She smiles lively,attends every workshop, camps,reads everything she gets.. 

         Her eyes are always wide open. Her thirst for knowledge is deeper .. She wants to explore the world more.. experience more.. laugh more.. She doesn’t believe, just because she made her children in a good position, her responsibilities are over.. She believes she has duties for herself.. she has to satisfy her own soul .. She has a great responsibility to herself,the duty which most Indian women forget to fulfill. Where her spirit is young and live not even death dares to stop her from what she is up to.. 


Train of love… 

He looks at me with hopes in his eyes.. He has no arms and his eyes are on my tiffin.   I want to eat my food.. how can I give my food to him.. it’s not just food, but love and care I packed from home..  Here, this man begging for this only love that I have..  He might has not eaten anything for days.. But it’s not easy to give food like you think.. 

It’s my pride.. My mom’s food. But finally he wins.. I pass my tiffin to his arms of hope.. He receives it with a smile of wonder.. I watch him eating that food.. His eyes fills with water when he puts food inside to his mouth.. it’s the travel of love.. A mother’s love to an orphan on street.. 

              pale midnight,

              visions of mom

              lullaby and cuddles