Why I love fashion

The fashion industry has grown manifold over the past few years. Since India’s young and mid age population has grown. Money has multiplied, awareness, travel and international brands have come in, India is fast following other fashionable cities worldwide. With fashion, once you are addicted, you just can’t settle for anything less. Hence, even in a time of recession we see that shopaholics will continue to shop, maybe a little conservatively but shop they will.

Today, a true fashionista understands why buying an Aldo, Charles and Keith, Mango is important and why “saving all that money to buy gold” is not on their priority list. Fashion is now a sentiment, a power and an identity. It is an industry that can just not be ignored. Whether you are a fashion victim or not, one would have to admit that the lure of its world cannot be ignored.

Fashion speaks of everything that is beautiful, in vogue, it is a joy that's tangible. Names like Sabyasachi, Dior, BCBG, Gucci, Jimmy Choo give goose bumps to those who know what they stand for. Fashion is a chance to express, be creative and enjoy this life. What else is life about if its not about looking beautiful, feeling good, loving your body and enjoying every moment doing something that gives you pleasure. It doesn't have to be useful, it just needs to make you happy.

Think

If I let go of hope will I fall?

For Gurdish

love love love you said and I coudn't hear
kisses and tears and souls you talked of
life, spirit, joy - such words you spoke
hell, no, why, who is what I asked
fought and fought against what I always wanted
you stayed and took the punches, some with yells and others with a smile
but the worst is over, begone I beg - its you and I, what doesn't matter is everything else

For Dude...

Lone, cold and sad I wander

wiping tears with guilty hands

pushing through the memory lane

happy times, wet tongue and a wagging tail

life then snatched him away, smiling at the lesson taught

drenching pillows and a soaking heart

a mistake, a fault and all is lost

The Petal

Once upon a time there was a petal - pink, smooth and free. It loved to travel to different places with its friend, the wind. The beach was its favourite place because he loved the sand, the sun and the water with its neverending view. But soon people started to notice the petal. They thought it was odd for it to hangout at the beach. They said: "Shouldn't the petal be in some garden or better even in a bouquet for someone's wedding?" The petal was oblivious to this. It was a wanderer, a gypsy and had the sould of freedom. From where it saw things, nothing was odd. Sure it liked to visit the garden to meet family and friends but it knew its true home was the beach. Wind and the petal spend days on the seashore making sandcastles, talking to spirits and making jewellery with seashells. The petal also loved to read and would pick up stray bits of paper that people left behind and was very knowledgeable but unaware of the vices of the world.

A big man had been observing the petal for days and the fact that the petal would roam the beach wouldn't go well with him. "It is unnatural," he thought, almost pitying the petal. He took the petal home and put it in a beautiful crystal vase thinking that's where he deserved to be. The petal was adventurous and started to explore the place but soon got bored and wanted to go back to the beach. But it was stuck in the vase and started calling out to its friend, the wind but wind was no where to be found. The petal decided to sit down and wait, hours and days passed and the petal started losing itself. It lost its pink colour and the smoothness was replaced with wrinkles. It started to look like a gloomy brown. It started sleeping a lot because it had nothing to do. The big man sat on his couch, proud of his good deed. He helped nature put things in order after all. The petal lay at the bottom of the vase, sleeping soundlessly because it was dreaming of the ocean, its home.

The B-thing

Why do women get so bitchy? All the competition and sarcasm and the snide remarks and rolling eyes must root from some place? Whether its a dolly aunty's strong urge to spy on her neighbour's daughter or a workplace colleague's spent energy and time over the other's successes and pitfalls. Why do women bitch? At this point I must make clear one point - bitching is not the same as gossiping (men do that all the time, they love gossip). Gossip is essentially more harmless while bitchiness is a woman with a plan - there is an agenda and a specific aim, i.e. to make so and so's life miserable or to make the girl gang hate X. It stems from envy or habit but is nevertheless malicious as hell.

Most bitchy women don't resemble the soap kinds. They come in sweet packagings and never lose their calm. They manipulate and take their time to screw you. Even when they bitch they make it sound like it hurts them to do it. They are usually extra-nice, extra-helpful and go out of their way to be nice to some people, hence, the claims of the one being bitched about usually go down the drain.

But what does the victim do? There are only two solutions - Be nice, say yes and stay out of harm's way or beat them at their own game. The latter is difficult because it means you will have to cultivate the bitchy mindset and spend a lot more time in thinking strategies, tactics and "sweet" revenges. The key is to be on high alert at all times and also put in extra effort at everything you do. A lot of hard work. Good Luck!

once upon a time...

song of the rain

smell of the soil

feel of the feet

touch of the sweat

intertwined in fabric

gasping for breath

of fingers and eyes

eyes shut and eternal sunshine