Nidhi Katoch blog

I was sitting on the bench, not knowing what thoughts I was lost in, a voice from behind caught my attention.  When I looked back, a lady was asking me about trendy shoes nowadays. She was an elderly lady with walking stick in her one hand. I'm not a person of small talk. I usually respond with smile. With the mask on, it has become difficult to respond.  Well, that happy lady left me soon to buy herself shoes. But she made sure to tell me that she's only 65 years young. And she was more young than me and the fellows of my age. I went to bookstore just to come out empty handed. I bought myself a coffee, made myself comfortable again on same bench and started to look around. When you're hanging out alone people tend to come to you to talk more often.  An old man or woman offers you a candy or nut, a random person asks you about book you're reading. How can I forget an old man/ woman's political thoughts! It's better to stay silent and let them talk, nod in agreem...

These empty rainwashed streets, occasionally running late night cars with wild speed, blinking street lights now and then, happily sleeping people in their cozy bedrooms, on lights of tenants' rooms, the random puff of laughter of any family from far place... Don't know why am I thinking about the people living in these block shaped buildings. Standing by the window, I can feel the freshness  in the air after a whole day of rain. Now even moon has prevailed. The cold wind that blows almost the whole year at home has arrived here today. It has the dampness of mountains. Why am I not liking this breeze while everyone surrounding me are enjoying this? How mountains are capable of holding so much coldness? I'm not going to spoil another article with my sadness. When others are getting relief from this hot-chilly summer who am I to spoil their days. (As if I'm going to tell them how do I feel.)  A car just passed through the street and it has left shaken window panes of ever...

The fan swirling on the ceiling, the clock showing the wrong time and the closed window are all causing suffocation in me. In the stillness of night sky is numb, only clouds are weeping silently. Tonight even clouds don't want to be heard or seen. They just want to cry, cry alone, without any distrubance. Perhaps that's why clouds have decided to rain during night when there's no one in the street, who can curse them or feel happy for rain. 'Am I really child of this universe? Do I really belong to this world? There's something constantly breaking inside me.' How many times we've asked these questions from ourselves. When we don't find any answer, we crave for escape. This escape sometimes (in my case many times) flows from our eyes. Like these clouds outside. The positivity that lies in the chore of our hearts sometimes clashes with negativity which clouded  our mind, body and soul. There raises battle cry and lightening which illuminates our path. But ...

I keep on scribbling now and then, here and there. I know these can't be considered as full story or poem but I think sometimes it's okay to post them raw, as they've been written, flawed, incomplete. I'm leaving you with this kind of piece, hope you'll like it. With Love.  As I enter the room door I feel someone shuts the door behind me Whenever I turn back to see There's no one How could that possible if I feel the presence  of someone, presence of human But where is he! or she...  Unknown arms embrace me  so hard I start to suffocate  I wish to cry  Try to ask for help But my voice deceives me  My hands fall numb  Feet are paralyzed Sun has reached the horizon The unknown arms aren't ready to leave me I've stopped trying  It's ease now  I'm enjoying it  Soon with slumber  will come to me with fairies  and take me to the clouds on hthe higher world.

  I'm sitting alone in this living room.  It's nearly 11:15 pm. Fan is on and I can hear it's mechanical sound. I'm sitting on red couch with coffee on its edge and a book which I'm currently reading. The wedding invitation (which I didn't attend obviously) card placed on the table fly for few seconds by blow of fan and has been finally settled on floor.  I get up to place card again on table and use sanitizer bottle as paper weight.  My imagination has really stopped working. All I can see when I open or close my  eyes is this sanitizer bottle. I don't want to write about these masks and sanitizers but for how long can I keep them away from my writings. How hard it has become to think about the life before masks! How much hard... When you can't even pretend your are happy. Even imagination has been spoiled now. Let's just not think about this. May be I'll read my book and drink another cup (don't think I'm caffeine addict). I can drink c...

  'I have never been a good friend, never gave my time to them. But what about the time I needed for me? I have always respected my personal space. Perhaps more than others! Why do I never feel like sharing my personal life with them? Why do I not ask for favour in trouble? Why? After talking about their sadness they felt relaxed but when I needed the mental support where were they? Oh yes, I never told them! I tried my best to keep them but how can I let others violate my priorities, my personal space, where no one is allowed, except me. Shall I ever be able to find that friend? Probably never.' I was fussing over this when I lost my hold on my diary and it fell down. The old and dry rose petals, bookmark and some torn pieces of paper. 'Is this diary or some old treasure that is coming out so much?' I laughed over my own joke. I gathered everything up and placed them on their places. Torn paper in dustbin, bookmark in some random book and rose petals went back to diary...

We were sitting in nearby park. The place where I usually spent my evenings while I was in that city. City where I experienced freedom for the first time. Freedom always brings responsibilities. Being a person who has been carrying the burden of responsibilities since childhood I wasn't afraid. It was difficult to live in a place, which you hardly know, without a friend, without a family whom I hadn't met since the day they left. But I was strong, I was content and might be happy! I was going through a turmoil when you clicked this picture. I didn't want you to leave. I didn't want to cry though my eyes were moist. You knew I always smile at the camera even when I'm sad.  "Hey! Look at the camera. " You said.  But I didn't. I didn't want you to capture my sadness. So I turned back without saying anything.  Kid from a well settled family was playing with the child of his househelp. They were giggling, rolling themselves on grass, holding each other...