In life, there are moments when the lips won’t move, the words won’t come out, no matter how hard you try. It’s as if your soul wants to scream out, desperate to utter unheard voice, but the mouth stay sealed. The inside feels like a thunderstorm–pain and agony with confusion, with a tiny bit of hope–but the outside feels like a desert. The silence feels heavy making it hard, even, to catch your breath.

Being optimistic, hope is a rebellion against despair, “a memory of the future”. A tune that never stops at all. But wait, Nietzsche called hope,“the worst of evils, for it prolongs the torment of man.” With both views, one questions: Is hope a comfort or a curse?

BackgroundThe sun hung high over the dusty horizon as we wandered through the lively Mela (Public Event) in my sandy village, the air full of voices and the scent of historically famous spices from South Asia. Everyone was wearing their cultural dresses shalwar kameez or Dhoti Shalwar. Stalls overflowed with golden jalebis, smoky chaat and steaming cups of chai, each bite and sip a burst of flavor. Kids running through the crowds, chasing each other down. The same way kabadi players chasing enthusiatically. Crowd cheered like warriors. Then came the snake show. A vibrant cultural performance (Jhumar). People sharing laughter. A perfect blend of variety of human beings coming in harmony as they payy tribute to their cultural and traditional values.

I know, what you agree thinking. There’s someone in your life that you have had your eye on and I know, you are thinking to yourself, should I ask them out? Of course, it’s the whole truth. So, I’m going to make this simple for you, okay?

Hello dear fellas, hope you all are doing fine and enjoying the shift. As we know, March is the beginning of Spring season. Season of growth, hope and new love. Though, I love autumn more, but, Spring with its fascinating beauty is beyond explanation.

MONDAY seems like an ordinary day, but it carried unique emotional shifts. Even the Guinness Book of World Records named it (Monday) as the most hated day of the week.As a saying goes by: May your coffee be strong and your Mondays be short. Unknown. So, have you ever wondered why the first day of the week, a new beginning, and a new hope feels like this? I can’t say much about you guys, but believe me, I’m not a fond of it. Since, my early childhood (from going to school) to adulthood (going to work) , I just hate it. Leaving all the comfort and in my opinion, the real problem is the two past days. Yes, Saturday and Sunday, the off-days. Friday night, I just watch a movie and get my much needed sleep. Then, Saturday is the most beloved day to me, I don’t have to worry much about Monday and I can do everything and anything I want to–just name it. Then, comes the Sunday, everything was okay till the mid-night, but now, once again the fear is hovering over me once again. Maybe, it’s because all the promises you made to yourself on Friday like doing advance work or spending it with productivity etc.