The ‘Hug’ Endeavour.

Please do read chapters 1 & 2

Chapter 3:

This is the story of the first time I hugged my Greek God

Growing up in a conservative family, I was never allowed to hug guys because my family considered it taboo. But in 11th grade, I met my Greek God. And although I knew that even our friendship alone, would get me into trouble with my family, there was nothing I wanted more than to be with him. Our friendship grew as we spoke to each other every day, almost as if it’s a daily ritual. We studied in different classes, and I remember walking to his class every morning and talking to him in the corridor. Our friendship, creating a very special bubble, both of us oblivious to the rest of the world.

I remember feeling this deep need to hug my Greek God. Not in a romantic way, because at that time, we were really just friends. But sadly, our school was stricter than a military academy. Teachers looming over corridors trying to find couples and get them suspended for “inappropriate behaviour”. I knew for a fact that if I got caught with Greek God, my family would all but disown me. But the heart wants what the heart wants, doesn’t it? I’d made up my mind about wanting to hug Greek God. And thus began my iron-clad planning to help me on my endeavour to hug Greek God.

I took the help of one of my best friends. Asking him to stand guard at the classroom door, and finally, 3.14 and Greek God hugged! And to be honest, his arms felt like home. Like somehow, I knew that that’s where I belong. His warmth, his love, his care. They made me feel giddy with joy for, deep inside, I knew that he was the one.

In this day and age, feeling joy over just hugging somebody may seem really silly. But to us, it wasn’t. It was one of the most important things that happened in our story. He was the first guy I ever hugged. And although this story is very personal, I’m sharing this now because I feel that people these days don’t value the small, meaningful gestures. We are slowly losing ourselves in our work and lives to such an extent that we forget to cherish the small moments.

So for all you people out there, in a relationship or not, cherish the seemingly ordinary moments because in the end, it’s the ordinary moments that turn out to be truly extraordinary.



Freedom At Last.

Finally, after 19 years of my life, I experienced true freedom at last.

Today, I went for a movie all by myself. All alone. I know I sound like a loner but I’m not. Growing up in a conservative controlling family, I was never allowed to go out on my own. Never allowed to go for a movie alone because my parents were too afraid to let their princess out in the open. And back then, I didn’t mind all the attention I got. After all, having some company was better than no company. But I was wrong.

When I moved into my university dorm, and made new friends who were from different parts of the country and world, I realized that the freedom I always felt at home, was not complete freedom.  It was carefully controlled freedom. And slowly, I started desiring true freedom. I began rebelling against my parents and family. But traditions and norms can’t be forgotten easily. I was reminded of my duties as a daughter and niece. I was yelled at and insulted. I was asked to keep in mind that it’s still my parents who pay my college fee.

But does that give them a right to control me? Probably not.  But when you’ve been a caged bird for so long, it’s hard to convince yourself to fly out even if the cage door is open. And it was for me too. I tried begging my friends to accompany me for the movie but everyone was busy. Finally, I called Greek God, to whine to him and he asked me to go alone and that it’ll be fun.

And it truly was.

Never before did I enjoy a movie like I did today. Eating my nachos all by myself and sipping at my coke while I stared at the screen intently were wonderful,  new experiences. And I realised that, going for a movie alone was the most empowering thing I’d ever done. I admit that I was very anxious about the whole idea but in the end, it turned out to be a decision that I cherish and not regret.

So for all the people out there, take time out for yourself. Do what you love and have fun being yourself while doing it. Don’t be ashamed or embarrassed to take out some ME time. You deserve your love.


Voice Of Reason: Rape.


A crime that steals your physical and emotional peace.

A crime that can never be justified. A crime that leaves invisible scars that never heal.

We all are aware of how terrible rape is. But then why is it not seen in our behavior towards survivors. Even in the 21st century, we still hear people say

“Don’t you see the kind of clothes you are wearing? What do you expect?”

I expect to be left alone! That’s what I expect. Just because my clothes are skimpy, doesn’t mean I want to be raped. Nobody , EVER , wants to be raped. And it’s about time people stop victimizing the already traumatized victim.

Honestly, it’s very hurtful when someone comments on your clothes and says that it invites people to come rape or sexually abuse you. Do my clothes really define all that I am? I spend everyday trying to build a good reputation, build my respect in society, to put forward my opinions and perspectives about life, work hard, day and night to be someone respectable and in the end, all you judge me by are my clothes? In no time, you judge me. You call me a tramp,slut or whore just because I wear shorts or skirts. And in no time, suddenly, all my hard work is null because society has become very superficial. Because nobody cares who you are on the inside. All that matters, are your clothes.

It’s time we change our ways. About time we understand that rape can’t or rather, shouldn’t be justified. About time we recognize our victims and empower them to become survivors because no-one deserves to be a victim.



Pure, unadulterated bliss.
That’s how I like to define my meetings with Greek God. Funny how few moments of togetherness can refresh your soul. How few minutes of love and happiness can go a long way. I spent the past 3 days with my Greek God. Laughing. Loving. Living. It truly was a slice of heaven. Although long distance is hard, the few minutes of pure bliss makes it seem all worth it. They make it seem like it’s no big deal. The miles that separate us cannot stop us from experiencing those few minutes of bliss. And despite all the crap that the world throws at us, in those few minutes, everything falls into place.
And that’s what I felt. When I finally held his hand, felt his gaze on me, felt his love, I realized that, even in this crazy, messed up place that we call our world, love still exists. True love at that. And that, is something that gives me hope to face all the crap that the world will throw at me.


Fear runs deep.
Deep in our veins.
Implanted in our genes,
Forced into our lives.
Fear for your life.
Fear of death.
The lie we are forced to live,
For fear of society.
The tortures we’re forced to endure,
For fear of lost pride
The fear of breaking free.
The fear of being lost.
The fear of losing yourself in the abyss,
Holds us down in a tormenting whirlwind,
Whisking away at the last rays of hope,
As darkness slowly consumes us,
And our souls crumble to ash.


Killing for Honour.

“I swear I won’t hesitate to kill you for the sake of the honour of our family if you do something stupid like fall in love or get into a relationship”.

My family joked about killing me for honour, while I sat there, smiling away like I found all of it funny as well. Faking a smile while I was dying inside was an easy task because I was used to doing it.

I live in a place where people don’t mind joking about things like this. I know for a fact that my family loves me dearly and would never harm me. But does that give them an excuse to tell their child that you’d kill her if she didn’t follow norms? Even if they meant it just as a joke? Can something as cruel and primitive as honour killing, ever be talked about as a joke?

It’s sad that despite being in the 21st century, some of us still experience primitive ideas like these which instill a deep fear in us. A deep fear caused by our own family. Who do you turn to, when your only support system openly talks about killing you for messing with their honour? How do you forget years and years of love and care and blissful ignorance? To what extent can you keep loving the people who hurt you with their reckless words? And for how long can you fake a smile before you crumble from within?

I was oblivious to all of this before I got into a relationship with Greek God. But when I did, I suddenly realized that my family was completely different from what I used to believe. Suddenly, my whole perspective changed. Suddenly, I no longer knew what I was supposed to feel. What I was supposed to believe.

My family means the world to me. And losing them is something I would not be able to handle. But is it really wrong to expect your family to understand? To expect your family to support you through whatever path you choose? And is it wrong to choose a path, different from the norm but not necessarily bad?

Maybe someday, I will get my answers. But until then, I’ll have to live with fear in my heart and a smile on my face.


The Price We Pay

Please do read Chapter 1: Together

Chapter 2:

It’s funny how sometimes, the whole world can affect your one decision. Funny how the society you live in, can make or break your whole life. Funny how, in the end of it all, your decision, is never truly yours.

It was the 9th of September when Greek God and I first started talking. For nearly a year, we tried to be just friends. We denied having feelings for each other and consciously tried to keep our feelings locked away. Everyday, we’d meet and talk for hours. And once we got back home, we’d text for hours. Late night calls which continued till daybreak became a daily routine. But no, we were still just best friends.

Our rare friendly handshakes, slowly turned into routine high fives just so we could touch each others hands, even if it was just for a second. (Seems silly, I know. But I still remember our first high five. That story is for some other time) And then slowly, we started holding hands when no one was looking. We had to hide it! Because we didn’t want to admit our feelings to anyone. Not even ourselves. Seemingly ordinary things like handshakes, high fives and holding hands became the threads which were holding our relationship together. We lived for these moments. And these seemingly ordinary things, still, to this day, mean the world to us.

But despite all the love and attraction, we were too afraid to acknowledge it. Because we knew, that the moment we acknowledge our love, our entire lives would turn into a battlefield. And we’d have to fight to be together.

And let me tell you one thing about fighting against the world to be with the one you love. It is NOT as easy as it sounds.

I keep saying that Greek God and I are colors from two ends of the spectrum. And we are. We belong to different religions. Two religions that have a long standing history of hatred and negativity. And amidst this, are the two of us, stranded in a storm of reckless banter and pointless wars.

For some of you, all of this may seem, so pointless. So what if you’re from different religions?
Sometimes, I wish I could be that casual. But unfortunately, I can’t. Because both Greek God and I, come from a society where your religion rules what you do, who you marry and who you have kids with.
We come from a society where people casually joke about killing in the name of honor without even thinking about the weight of their reckless words.
We come from a society where lovers are beaten up and criminals are applauded.

Yes, we live in a messed up place. But despite all of this, we still choose to be together.
Because I believe that everything comes with a price and this pain is the price we have to pay to be together.