An Alpha by sight but a lone wolf by right. Eternally and Devastatingly romantic. Not 'sugary' but dark and tormented. A furore of passion and the despair of an idealism not realised. An Ambivert; my calm demeanour hides the raging storm of emotions inside. A Freelance Writer; expressing emotions through words.
They heard the Myth of Trevi Fountain. As they made their way towards it, amidst the crowd they got separated from each other.
She looked around but he was nowhere to be found. She trotted to the fountain alone, her heartbeat surging; she disliked crowds. She threw one coin in, took a deep breath and smiled. There was no need for another, her soul already belonged to him. Whether they were destined to be together, she never really gave it a thought.
Suddenly she noticed him in the distance as he threw a coin. She waited with bated breath if he would throw another. He didn’t, instead, he glanced at her and she immediately averted her eyes. When she looked back he was already making his way towards her through the crowd.
Unbeknownst to her he had already noticed her treading through the crowd. His eyes had been roving ever since they had been separated, panicked at having lost his most treasured find and when he saw her he had felt a calming peace.
He had stared at her with awestruck eyes as she threw in her coin and also waited to see if she would throw another in. She never did and he knew she was all his. He threw in his coin, and glanced at her and saw her averting her shy eyes. He knew how much she hated crowds so he waded through the crowd, he held out his hand as he reached her.
Still shy, she didn’t look him in the eye but hand in hand as they made their way out of the crowd, they weren’t two individuals but two mirrors both part of the same soul. And one day if they returned together to Rome, even Trevi Fountain would be proud that it had been witness to a love so pure.
This is a picture of me sitting in a mudhouse. It is made up of mud and stays warm in the coldest of days. As a child and as a grown up each time I visited my village, cows and bulls used to be tied in such mudhouses, it’s called a ‘Chani’. In yester years when there were no heaters and air conditioners women and men alike often used to sleep in these chanis along with the animals and hay to keep themselves warm. These days home stays use them to lure tourists and to introduce the ‘Pahadi’ culture to them.
She is always loving and kind,
What can she do?
She hails from a place where even strangers are welcomed,
With arms open wide.
She is not afraid of traversing the rugged terrains,
The Himalayas that fill others with awe and fear,
They give her warmth and peace,
They are the home that provide her solace.
View from one of the small hamlets in Uttarakhand, namely, Chopta
You might find her talking to a flower,
Smelling the earth after the first rains,
Or just admiring the beauty of a colorful bird,
Shown here is a ‘chulha’, a stove made from mud and uses wood as a fuel. The people in the hills are experts in cooking on these stoves. The food tastes tasty and has a smoky touch. The dishes cooked are usually made from vegetables fresh from the farms. Also sitting near the chulha in winters is extremely delightful.
Or as she walks those treacherous roads,
Humming an old Himalayan folk tune,
One she probably heard from her grandmother,
As she sat near the chulha with her.
This is the path to my village in Uttarakhand. It’s an upward trek of 3 kms of highly uneven terrain but the fresh air and trees makeup for it. We try to visit every few years especially with the much younger generation just so that they know about their roots.
She will tell you many folktales,
Of the kings and queens that once resided in the hills,
Of the local gods and ghosts, that still tread,
Watch the twinkle in her innocent eyes as she talks of the land she so loves.
This is our temple in our village of Taleshwar in Uttarakhand. It dates back to the 4th century and it has been proved time and again by the various archaeological treasures that have been dug up around it but it lies in a dilapidated state, all thanks to the neglect of the government. All our major ‘pujas’ (rituals in which you ask for blessings from God) take place in this very temple.
She has a wild and adventurous spirit,
She will take you to places you won’t fathom,
And as she treads along,
She will hum songs in a language unheard,
But the smile she holds will put you at ease,
They aren’t tragic, they are songs of the wild,
The love for nature and people that she has learnt ever since she was a child.
One of the hills that I often tread whenever I visit my village, my father’s childhood was spent in this very terrain before he moved to the city.
As a child whenever she visited the village she often used to sit in the Khou,
With family and friends,
As the old men told stories of their youth,
While smoking their hookahs,
She would listen with awe about the hill ranges that they conquered and the long paths they traversed,
Longing to do the very same some day as she grew older.
The old man in this picture is holding a hookah, a traditionally carved and engraved tube used for smoking and the area they are all sitting in is called a khou. He is the younger brother of my grandfather whom I lost to cancer when I was in Nursery. I still remember watching my grandfather coming home from my rooftop and then standing at the gate waiting for him as he always brought me sweets or candies. He used to carry a beautiful and shiny wooden cane with him, which we gave away later as it had much better use elsewhere.
During her teenage she saw a stranger knock at her grandmother’s door,
He looked like an adventure seeker,
It was the same year in the summer of which she had been to the big city and seen people be ruthless and cruel,
She just did not want this stranger entering their home.
This is one of the houses in the village that belongs to our largely extended family. In the picture is my uncle, his wife and his daughters standing on the lower floor (they are my grandfather’s younger brother’s son and family). On the above floor is my mother, my aunt (my father’s sister) and my grandmother (my grandfather’s younger brother’s wife). I lost my grandmother when I was in 8th. She was a simple yet strong lady who became schizophrenic in the later stages of life. She used to see ‘Bhainro’ (A Hill god) during her last days. She would often tell me that he was here to take her away. I was probably the closest to her in all her grandchildren since I was the only one who spent 12 years with her.
That day she learnt why Pahadis were considered simple and kind,
Her grandmother gave him a home and food for the night,
When the stranger left the next day, her grandmother found her ‘guloband’ missing,
It was the only memory she had of her dead grandfather,
She felt sad for her grandmother and went to sit with her,
As she did she started cursing the man,
No, said her grandmother as she shushed her, this is not our way of life,
He probably needed it more than me,
Nature is what gives us and every being of nature is part of us.
The black choker in this photograph is called a ‘guloband’ and that giant gold ‘Nath’ is the original, heavy nose ring worn by married women. The earrings and naths used to be so heavy (the naths weighing nearly 15gms sometimes) that the nose and earlobes often dangled by the time women reached old age. Again an intrinsic part of our traditional jewellery, the guloband is worn by married women and till date my mother and all my aunts and grandmothers own this piece of jewellery. It is still gifted to newly wed women by their elders and most of them wear it with pride as it has its own charm and is a mark of our tradition and culture. Originally, engraved squares of gold with loops on the sides for thread to pass through were sewn on a black, red or green (mostly black) cloth but now a days it comes in various other designs.
From that day in that lone village in the hills,
Till today the Pahadan resides in a small town in the Himalayan foothills,
The same one she was born in,
Somehow she never found the opportunities in the big cities charming,
Her soul always wants to return each time she visits those cities,
Her love for her roots is undying.
She feels nature will save her against all odds,
She still opens her doors to anyone who is needy,
All you need to do is knock at her doors.
This is the latest trek I went on before lockdown. This is Chopta which is sometimes also referred to as ‘Mini Switzerland’ yet having been to Switzerland I still find this hamlet much more beautiful (no offence intended here). You trek through winding snowy roads in winters and huge grasslands in summers to reach a temple called Tungnath which is a trek of 4 km uphill and Chandrashila peak which is another 2 and a half km above Tungnath.
You will still find her talking to flowers,
Or even climbing trees,
Treading barefoot on the grass,
She makes way even for the ants.
She runs to the hills whenever she gets the chance,
Her adventurous spirit can never be quenched,
In harmony with nature, she respects even the smallest of creatures.
Untouched by the city’s humdrum, she still finds peace within the hills,
But don’t get confused by her mild and kind demeanour,
Forged by hills and nature,
She will roar if you test her too far,
This is why her friends call her an alpha with a gentle heart.
All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar (VRa). Pahaadan through and through.
I have decided to post a few short proses that I wrote over the past month. They are about a couple who are immensely in love with each other. Being an utterly hopeless yet tormented romantic my love for LOVE has always been quite visible in a number of the pieces that I have written. This is just a slice of the same. Hope you all like it.
She turns back to look if he is there and Yes, there He is. She giggles as she trips slightly. Despite being the epitome of clumsiness she knows he will hold her steady.
Teasing, she runs away from him as he follows. She dances ahead and He smiles. She is way more than he could fathom, way more than he felt he deserved.
So, I had to share this as my book will be out and about in a few days.
I have like a sinking gut kind of a feel due to all the nervousness yet at the same time I am super excited too. I am hoping that it does well!
This book is very close to my heart. After certain fiascos in my life I had almost stopped believing in love or trying to find it. Three years back, I met a man with whom I shared an unnerving connection. I could feel the vibes from the first instance itself, when I first heard his voice. With him I realised love is not about conquering someone but it is about finding peace and solace.
When you love you settle down. Vanessa, the protagonist of You We is an amalgamation of various strong and rebellious women I have met in my life over the years especially those who hail from small towns and are binded by few Indian constraints, yet have broken these restraints to fly unfettered.
In You We, I bring to you life and love from the platter of a rebellious, small town girl from India who constantly questions orthodox societal norms. All this and more till she meets Umar. Vanessa takes you on a journey from being a Manizer and why she turned into one to finding eternal love. She will take you on a sometimes hilarious, sometimes erotic, sometimes a fairytale and at times a downright uncomfortable voyage, from the ups and downs in her life and through it all how a strong, rebellious woman finds love, coincidentally; loses it, but as destiny wills, it reaches out to her again for an eternity and more.
So the interiors of my book arrived today and I just couldn’t help but share them with all my readers. Had you all not liked my “erratic” work, this just wouldn’t have been possible. I am so excited and at the same time so scared too!! The adrenaline and the fear pumping. My heart feels like it will leap out my mouth. But I also have this feel it will be a great road ahead.
I hope you all will buy it too from whichever platform you like to read as and when it will be available. Thankyou for always motivating me as a writer.
I hope you like the contents page. Do leave reviews about what you think of them!! Haha!! Thankyou for all the love and support. I love you all!!
So, this is going to be the first time that I am participating in an award nomination. I had been nominated when I first started the blog but as I am erratic I could never revert back.
So I am going to dedicate this post to the award I have recently been nominated for.
1. Thank the blogger who nominated you. Provide a link to the blog.
2.Write a post to show your award.
3. Brief story of how your blog started.
4. Two pieces of advice to new bloggers.
5. Select up to 15 bloggers you want to give this award to.
6. Comment or ping back and provide a link to the post to the blogs you have nominated.
First and foremost I would like to thank Vikas for nominating me for this award. He has a wonderful blog filled with the latest information of Cricket. He is a true cricket buff just like a lot of us. Do check out his blog at Cricket Vikas.
After a tryst with various avenues which included journalism, Modelling and Event Management, I realised writing is my true calling. As I wrote content for websites and blogs alike, I observed people and couples around me a lot. I started writing about their inert desires. Also around this time I fell deeply in love with a man who used to write poetry in answer to mine. He became my inspiration and that led to the birth of my blog. Even though we aren’t together and his heart is owned by another; he still is one of my inspirations. After all, love is not always about conquering someone. Also, being an ambivert who doesn’t share her emotions much, this was an outlet for me to portray the various phases and whirlwind of emotions I go through in my life.
Being very erratic on my blog, I am not someone who should be giving anyone any type of advice but as the rules say so.
1. Be REGULAR: As someone who is never regular, I would say if you start being consistent in your posts your blog you will garner more followers and likes. You should also be consistent in reading and commenting on other blogs.
2. THEME: Instead of merely pouring out your thoughts do so in a systematic manner. A blog with a theme catches more attention and has more followers.
Eg: ME. Haha! My life story is my own muse. So, I use my own photographs in my blog.
So, please don’t mind if I miss you out since I am so erratic. These are fifteen of the blogs that I enjoy reading. So here goes.
Numerous are her shades. She is an enigma that takes ages to unfold. You have to be patient to learn all that she withholds because once she unleashes her various hues, you will be left yearning for more and more.