Happy Women's Day

On the eve of International Women's Day,

I have many things to say,

Starting with how we begin our mornings in a haze,

We wake up feeling refreshed or still in a daze,

We'd love to sleep, 

But everyone around us would begin to weep,

School tiffin and prep,

There's no time to fret,

So off we bounce from our beds,

And into the kitchen we head,

Once we bid farewell to our tiny humans,

We squeeze in a brisk workout for ourselves to start feeling more human,

Work takes over,

And we quickly switchover,

Shedding away the homemaker title to that of hustler,

Ideas are thrown and rustled with, our brains in a tussle,

We absorb as much knowledge as we can,

And before we know it, homework has begun,

Time to shift gears again,

Trying our best to be calm like Zens,

Mother, colleague, daughter and friend,

There's just no end,

To the title you can give a woman,

She's so many people all wrapped in one.

Aamchi Mumbai

Aamchi Mumbai, a city that gave me life and death. A city where my pockets were always empty but my heart was full. Poha, sabudana khichdi, vada pav, Bombay's version of sambaar and dosa. I loved it all. 

I became a pro with public transport. I caught trains and buses and share autos like a villain. I gobbled down batata vadas like a lizard sucking in bugs. One flick of the tongue and everything was gone. 

I found my sense of self. I quickly discovered my likes and dislikes. Friends were a dime a dozen, perhaps I was blessed, perhaps it was my love for people or the fact that Mumbaikars are so lovable, you can't help but befriend them. 

I might have left the city over three years ago, but my heart still craves for sabudana khichdi and the occasional long drives all the way upto Churchgate and Bandra to sip on San Churro's hot chocolate or Kyanis to stuff my face with way too many puffs, cutlets and pastries. 

You can't forget Bombay, whether you spent close to a decade there or even a few days. The city has a way of sneaking up in your head, when you least expect it.