Nidhi Katoch blog

I stared at the half-finished coffee; the mug had my lipstick stains on it. At first, I had the urge to remove them with tissue, but I didn't know what made me stop.  I sat on the verandah to watch the rain fall. A little kitten came and curled up on my lap. Earlier, when you were here, I was just another person for it. But now it also tries to find you in the sound of rain, in the droplets, in the petrichor. We both listened to the rain falling on the slate roof and slid down with heavy downpours. We had never bonded before, but now this kitten never leaves me alone whenever I'm at this place. How peacefully it was sleeping on my lap!  I had no idea how I would be able to leave it alone here. But this kitten is made for the wild. Whenever it misses you, it sits by your door and leaves. You can't cage a wild bird like I couldn't cage you forever. Even the mental pictures are blurred. You know it had been a long time since I had sung a song. I started to hum with the rai...

It was December evening, I was sipping coffee with my twin in the busy market of this old city. I made some phone calls here and there and started to observe people and architecture. Old or new traditions, this city has preserved and nurtured both. How fast the life is here! It may take some time to learn and move with the business this place holds. My eyes were fixed on the bookstall and I was wondering if should I buy myself a book or not. There's a thing in these streets, a nostalgic emotion, a feeling of being missing out, a feeling of moving forward. An emotional baggage from the past that we always carry, was suddenly in front of me. I pull out a few things to discard. Discarding things from that baggage involves losing people, shedding tears, old patterns, and changed responses. Sitting there, felt like shedding my old skin, which was never mine, but I had been wearing it for so long that I forgot that underneath resided a whole different person, my true self. That skin haun...

I was gazing at the sunset from the corner window. The sun was below the horizon. There's something in the beauty of twilight that can't be ignored. The sky was shining like a canvas painted by a painter. When the birds passed through the sight it seemed that the painter had dropped a few black drops of paint on his precious painting so that it could be saved by evil eye. The howling of dogs, birds going back to their nests, cattle grazing fields to their owner’s place. I'm sitting here putting my thoughts into words, carefully choosing them and decorating them like books on my shelf.  I don't care about being told that I'm two-faced, it's not my problem if they have forgotten that every coin has two sides. After travelling, losing and winning, moving mountains or bowing before them, chasing butterflies, battling dragons, and taming wolves I've learned that in the end, I'm my only friend, in the end, I have to fight my battles. Although my fine with that...

Bathing under the moonlight, when I looked above at the stars my feet started to move themselves and my arms embraced the wind and started to move like a slow wave. I felt a hand holding my hand and our feet moved in sync with the beat of crickets and the rustle of leaves. I heard someone playing the drums but I couldn't get whether it was the beats of my heart or the person holding my hand. Whether it was a person or just a shadow or just me. I didn't know.  There was a tranquillity in the air. I don't remember the day when I danced so peacefully. The rose on the hair was blooming. My dress was flowing with the moves of my body. The dangling of earrings, the tinkling of bangles, and my broken anklet, everything seemed to be in place for a moment.  The coldness of the floor was now reaching out all over my body, and the stillness of the night was now trying to put a hold on my moves. A voice was trying to tell me something but words were so much jumbled. Then they fainted w...

It's nearly 1 am, I can hear rain outside. Sleep has left my eyes and I'm eating instant noodles. A flickering light coming from my laptop as I'm watching a movie directed by Basu Chatterjee. I know almost every dialogue. I wonder how many people are waking up at this hour of the night. Is everyone happy or satisfied? What has deprived them of their sleep? Do they feel lonely? Or are they talking to their loved ones right now? Funny how we all are awake and alone but still are together awake under the night sky. A lot of people ask me how much pahadi I'm. I just push aside this question by telling I'm not a mountain person. Well, I can tell by looking at the grey skies that it's snowing in the mountains above. I can feel the winds of mountains from the plains. I might like city life, but when night prevails I lie on my bed I start to miss the clear black sky, my open window, the moonlit room, and the stars. There's a blank space in my heart that always remai...

'आते-जाते यायावर' (Aate Jate Yayavar; Loose translation: travelling Nomads), the title of Mannu Bhandari's story came to my mind as I watched tourists moving in to and fro on mall road. I was sipping my coffee under the grey sky. The sun was trying hard to peep through clouds but today was the day of clouds. I had just started a new chapter in the book and wanted to complete it before finishing my coffee. But I was getting distracted by my phone and also the crowd was attracting me. Their backpacks were filled with their stories.  I saw a group of friends flocking around. I saw them with longing eyes. This could be me and my friend if fate wasn't so cruel. If I wasn't suffering alone, If my friend wasn't fighting a battle. If I had not lost my cheerleader and if my friend wasn't forced to vanish in slumber. My phone rang again. Just another call from a busybody hovering around my life. Funny how everyone wants to know what am I up to but never wants to know ...

I was scrolling through social media when I realized I have started to use this little device much more than I used to in the past few months.  Some thoughts feel relevant at that moment but then with the passing days, weeks, or months, they start to lose relevance. Sometimes even after a few moments. Maybe they were not relevant at all. Is it okay if you pour them out? Is it okay to speak your mind? I'm even afraid to express them in my diary, I feel that these blank pages will judge me. I know it's ridiculous to think like this. But thoughts are thoughts. You just can't push them aside or dump them in the dustbin. To distract myself, I picked up my coffee mug from the table and threw the content of the remaining coffee in the sink. Flipped pages of a book that I'm currently reading. Useless flipping. Sometimes nothing interests me. Maybe today is that day. Day of nothingness. Day of sunlight with dew settled in heart. Half-read book stares at my face with longing eyes...

 Hey Readers, I'm sitting here in the cafe, sipping my coffee. A lot had happened in the past week. It was taking a toll on my peace of mind.  If you're sad, no matter how much you try to avoid that feeling, your body starts to give you signals like headache, body ache, fast heartbeat or whatever it is. It's different for different people. I think I shouldn't carry this load on my chest anymore and move on, so here I'm leaving you with the poem I penned a night before. I'm posting the first draft, don't want to make any changes to it today.  Hope you'll like it. With Love. How can the stars burn down to ashes there were twinkling laughs once, now just memory flashes Those so-called mentors turn you down Faith in the universe too drown Hands that are always over my head why God why it feels like they are about to shed like those leaves from this  old broken tree who is bounded by the roots never going to be free There's no forgiveness in my heart and ...

All three of us were having coffee in the cafe and were laughing at something. But my eyes were only following you. I looked at your face, 'How happy you are today!' I thought to myself, as if trying to convey my message through my mind.  I knew that the day after tomorrow you'd be home and I would remain here. Stagnant! Oh! How much I wanted to follow you like I used to do when I was a child. I had never felt so jealous of kids, the way I felt today. Kids can cry anywhere, at any moment, while we adults are supposed to behave. I wanted to hold you but I didn't. I knew you would get to know my feelings even with my single touch. This could make you sad, more than me. I didn't want to take that risk. After all, You're Mother! Far more experienced and smart than me.  I turned my gaze to my twin. I wondered if she was thinking the same! Our eyes met and she nodded with a small smile. I nodded back and became a part of the conversation again.

Nowadays I find it difficult to get my thoughts down on paper. I am not reading much. Maybe sometimes it's better not to pay attention, to do nothing. Just sit for a while and feel the joy of nothingness. Although I have written a few bits and pieces. So, Today's blog is again raw and unedited slice of my nothingness on your plate.  With the rotation of earth the sky turns black to blue, sometimes it's grey,  sometimes there's red hue.  With the revolution of earth changes the year, world, countries,  Life changes and fate brings Happiness, mystery or adversaries.  While sitting here I'm witnessing  the game of defeat and victory,  With the changing  TV screen There's someone losing war,  Someone is changing course of history. It's the matter of few seconds,  It's matter of luck,  Some are moving ahead,  Some are stuck.  With the rotation of earth I become blind, deaf and dumb It's the matter of time Sometimes full of ...

So, Tell me how do you feel when you see me smiling?  They think that I'm happy,  maverick, spoiled, beguiling.  Do you think the same, when you hear my name?  You know me since the day we gained consciousness,  I was looking for sun rays in my cloudy trodden shed,  And you were bathing  under the sun And Having fun!  When I took out my  old white sheet of paper  filled it with my choice of colors,  Because I wasn't allowed to enjoy the summer. You know me since inception You know my tears, fears and how I faced deception.  Tell me, Do you  really want to put yourself in my shoe? Tell me...

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...

My head is throbbing like anything. I don't know what it is. I'm not even trying to know. I'm too busy to think about this headache. I'm supposed to complete this task before tomorrow 10 Am. But I'm not sure whether I will be able to do or not? What's the point of doing this? It's not bringing me happiness.  When will I ever get the peace in this house? I'm tired of this constant strife, this dispute which has given me nothing but hatred. And I'm not so happy with growing hate inside me. I have to leave it immediately. But how can I?  'Stop! Focus on your work. Just finish this task before the dusk and then you'll not have to sacrifice your sleep.', I said to myself. The most difficult task is to bring thoughts in alignment.  Children are having fun these days. Just take your bicycle and go for a ride. I wonder do they ever miss their school or mates? Obviously they do. How couldn't they? One of them is singing a famous Punjabi song o...

 Sometimes words are angry upon you. They don't come to you easily. The more you approach, the more you try to persuade them, they run away from you like a child turns his face when he is angry upon her mother or like the tantrums of your lover when you tease him.  Sometimes they grow in your mind but when they reach on the gates of Great Paper they give up. They think they aren't ready yet, not fully prepared. They think or we!  Ah! How can you write such a thing? Who on earth is going to like it? And we don't put them even on paper which is our personal space.  Sometimes words come to us when we are on a ride, drive or may be in some shopping mall/ grocery store. We find them interesting and decide to write them, then they fly.  They flew to far land where neither we can reach nor our thoughts. Words, medium to communication but when everything ends we don't need them anymore, not for others, not for us. Then they just float in the air freely, without any arra...

I'm a stone on the road,  Without appreciation and value I have been lying here.  They come to me,  take refuge over me,  Shed their tears here,  and the anger, mean.  Their names written over my head to toe, I carry their drought,  snow and storm.  When they get summer,  spring and rain,  I'm again become a stone lying on road, in vain.  I'm a snag on a path,  Useful to make graveyards  but again not needed,   for this they have their hearts.   I'm not a total waste,   Kids play around me,   sing the birds,   wildflowers smile through my cracks,   I'm a stone,   lying happily on a hill track.     

I know I'm not posting regularly these days. I'm going through severe writing slump. A lot have been happened in past days. It's not that I didn't write at all but I wasn't able to organize those thoughts.  Today I just felt like pouring my heart out. Season of Love is here. I know you don't need any special day or week to express your love. But I see nothing wrong in celebrating it. I mean everyone loves gifts and surprises, feeling of love and being loved.  We always think that our life is our life. Whatever we're going to do will only affect us, which is actually true to some extent (or may be large for few). But sometimes one tear of ours can break the other apart. I'm not saying that one should do things just to make others happy. It's our life and we own it. With this we should not forget that when we demean ourselves, we demean the people who love us, we break the trust that they have on us. Just because it didn't happen according to you o...

I keep looking outside whether it's day or night,  feel the stagnation and a constant freight,  of losing the invisible race,  which my heart is running without any probable fate.  Now it is out of breath and  wants to sit and relax  and to melt down,   the Time has been elapsed.   

The downpour from the grey sky  drenched the whole earth,  The drops settled on the leaves And the trees stand still.  I came out of my house to feel the damp air on my skin,  the droplets on the grass,  beneath my feet.  Childhood memories screened  before my eyes,  when we played cricket under the shade of mango tree,  Whether the sun or the shower it protected us like mother,  Previous monsoon, it struck by the  lightning from the sky,  shielded house from the thunder,  It is still standing tall,  for my wonder.  I shook the lower branch of tree and the raindrops fell over me,  As if it was showering Love on me. 

My heart chastises me for letting the hatred bloom in me,  Bad blood, envy, bitterness and The incredulous feeling of  'I'm supreme'.  The fire of wrath is blazing,  Care, respect, sympathy are freezing,  Love has turned cold,  I'm a living being But, the life in me is fading.