Nidhi Katoch blog

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...

Today when I opened the door to the roof I could feel the last night's rain all over my skin. The cuckoo was singing while perching over Gulmohar. Beautiful red flowers, which I find fiercely bright in summer's heat, looked so calm on this cool morning. I usually wonder what makes this cuckoo sing all day long.  A white feather came and settled over my palm. Whose message are you carrying today oh dear feather? I let it go with a little blow. How long can I have hold of it? People are like a feather too. You can't hold them for long. They'll go on their travel eventually.  Our love and our faith can't hold them. They don't owe us anything. If they do, then nature doesn't. A few days ago a fakeer came to me singing, I don't remember the exact words but he was saying, 'Finally bird Soar away breaking his cage, today'. His song moved me and my eyes became misty. When I offered him the money he politely refused by saying he had earned enough for the ...

This starless sky, Smoke coming out of vehicles often makes me think that those silent nights spent under the stars back in the home were way better. Home where we could spend the whole night counting stars and watching the moon. I miss those endless chats and how we used to identify the constellations. The science and mythology related to them. How those stars always stay together. We wished for staying together like those stars in Ursa major.  During monsoon nights when we tried to catch fireflies, the fragrance of jasmine had reached its peak. That sound of rain over the slate roof, the breeze coming from the direction of the mountain, a breath of fresh snow. The turning of our conversation from season to finding the meaning of love and life. You used to stress the fact that having company is a good idea while I believed in having some alone moments. No one is right or wrong in this kind of discussion. You had your experience, I had mine.  Well, that was a long time ago. No...

 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 ...

Sometimes we just want to sit and cry. I know I'm being a pessimist here but isn't it true? And we want our problems or sadness to go away with the tears cascading from our eyes. Sometimes I too like to cry. We all do. Whether men or women. But not everyone wants to accept in public. There could be any reason. I'm not gonna bother my readers but I've penned down the following poem while sitting by the condensed window. I'm still carrying the curse on my weighed down shoulders, All the wounds I've nursed again become open cuts and colder. Trapped inside the circle of time Morning-Noon-Night Never-ending is this climb, Don't know what is hurting more pain in my heart or shoe bite? Surrounded by the beauty which I can't see They say they want to be like me while I've never been me. Darkness arises  flows like a river in my veins They talk about advise As if they're the only ones with shattered dreams. Have I left people or have people left me? Am I ...

As usual, I'm again sitting idle. This is the most common start of accounts, encounters (or whatever you want to call) which I often share here. Sometimes I feel that you (yes! You, my reader) are definitely bored of this beginning. But still you come here again and again to see what story this idler has to tell.  Oh! yes, story.  I'm an early riser and love to see the sunrise. I was standing on the balcony that morning. The sun was about to rise. Few people were coming out of their houses for morning walk . I was slightly irritated by the constant cooing of pigeons. One stray kitten was busy jumping from wall to wall while another was sitting by my side. In this city, people hire men to wash their cars daily, unlike in my own place, where people usually forget when was the last time their vehicle took a bath. A deliveryman was waiting to deliver a courier outside a house. A guy came out with a toothbrush in his mouth, the deliveryman handed him a bouquet of roses and left.I w...

I bought myself coffee and settled on a nearby bench. A lady and a young man were sitting in front of me. They seemed mother and son by their gestures. It was the fifteenth consecutive day that the sun hadn't spread its rays. This is the problem with the plains. When I'm at home, on the hills, I get to witness the sun, even if it is for a few minutes. But in the plains, it seems impossible to get blessings from the Sun God during winter. Some readers might be aware that I'm not a big fan of cloudy days. These grey skies color my heart blue and blue skies make me cheerful. I wanted to push clouds aside and take some warmth from the sun. Obviously, I couldn't do it, so I indulged myself in a favorite habit of mine, observing (one might say snooping in strangers' lives). The scene around me was simple, some were heading to their destination, some were hanging around. A person who makes paid sketches of people was sketching a kid sitting in front of him. It was evident ...