To an Eternity . . . In Love ♥

As the last leaf falls from the branches of time,
Drifting slowly, agonizingly, towards nothingness
A heart emptied of love; a soul dead from pain.
I wait in vain for a false dawn – unbecoming,
An unmanifest of emotions, of love.
The earth, moist and tender, caresses me in its embrace,
The rain reminding me of the drop of life left
Within the obscure walls of my heart,
Beating for a love that’s already come by and past
Far, far away. ♥


To an Eternity . . . In Love. ♥

Eternal Love

Eternal Love


As the last leaf falls from the branches of time,
Drifting slowly, agonizingly, towards nothingness
A heart emptied of love; a soul dead from pain.
I wait in vain for a false dawn – unbecoming,
An unmanifest of emotions, of love.
The earth, moist and tender, caresses me in its embrace,
The rain reminding me of the drop of life left
Within the obscure walls of my heart,
Beating for a love that’s already come by and past. ♥

When I Die . . . Do not Cry | Audio

When I die,

Don’t shed tears,


For I lived my life to the fullest,

The way it was supposed to be.

When I die,

Don’t weep,

Raise a toast.

For I achieved all that I aspired to be,

And made a gang of friends and well-wishers.

When I die,

Don’t feel low,


For I always followed my heart,

I never gave up, nor gave anyone up.

When I die,

Don’t lament,

Fly high.

For I was a phoenix rising from the ashes,

After every failure.

When I die,

Don’t weep,


For I lived life as an adventure,

With no fear, nor anxiety,

But always with courage, and confidence.

When I die,

Don’t ponder.

Feel proud.

For I forsake my ego,

I made love my religion,

And hearts my temple.

When I die,

Don’t brood,


For I lived life like a song,

And lost myself in its divinity.

When I die,

Never be sorry.


For I lived life fully,

And, loved with all my heart.

When I die,

Don’t worry,


For I leave the world a better place,

And go back to the One who I always loved.

When I die,

Don’t sulk.


For wherever my soul might be,

Your smile will keep me living on.

For an eternity more.


I recorded this poem in my own (untrained, unedited, unmodified) voice. Hope you like it. 

Instrumental Credit: Nils Frahm. Track Name: Sol.

Bankerupt: Conversations with Ravi Subramanian

What if your wildest dream was meeting a person you truly adore? What if an early saturday morning turned out to be the best moment of your life? What if you get a book personally signed by an author you consider to be your role model? What if you actually meet the John Grisham of Banking? Well, that’s exactly what happened to me. Me and a few lucky ones in Easy Library, Koramangala.

The moment I knew Ravi Subramanian would be at EasyLib for tete-a-tete, I was completely thrilled. The excitement, the tension was palpable. I sat up the entire night thinking of questions I should ask him when I meet him up close and personal. The thought of meeting him, like reading his best seller books, didn’t allow me to sleep at all. No media . . . No flashlights, no papparazzi, no glamour . . . just him. And us.

Ravi Subramanian | Bankerupt

For all those who don’t know Ravi Subramanian (is there any?), he is a banker by profession and has penned five popular thrillers on banking and bankers. He is the winner of multiple awards. All his books are based on financial crime. His thrillers include, If God was a Banker, Devil in Pinstripes, The Incredible Banker, The Bankster and the latest one Bankerupt. Additionally, he has written a non-fiction, I bought the Monk’s Ferrari.

Ravi was truly humble, down-to-earth and highly easy going. He was able to take constructive criticism from the audience, questions that might have thrown any author off guard. He was charming and cool all the while. He told us about his personal life, how much of a struggle it had been, the real life incidents that influenced his novels, the stinging remarks he received from critics, his two pence on writing a thriller and his inspiring talk to budding authors. As much as his books are a rollercoaster ride, the conversations we had with him were of similar vein.

On handling criticism

When his first book “If God was a banker” was released, he received a lot of negative, stinging remarks. Critics dismissed the book as a piece of crap, with feedback ranging from “He has written a book worser than Chetan Bhagat!” to “Don’t bank on it (the book).”

“It helped me grow as an author. Criticism, if taken constructively, will help a writer improve. My first book had loads of sex, no strong women protagonists, and every character was either black or white. I changed that completely from my second novel. Now, all my books have no sex (Sex DOESN’T sell, great storyline does), strong woman characters and people who are grey, neither completely black nor completely white. It helps. Embrace criticism.”

Inspirations for the Novels

“Everything from real life. Each and every one of the incidents that happen to the characters, the characters themselves . . . everything is real. My stories are all about simple, ordinary human beings . . . I draw from real life. There is no better canvas.”

Plots for the Novels

“I don’t have a fixed plot in mind when I begin writing. I don’t even know what the twist in the story will be! I just take it by chapter. At the end of each chapter, I would have four or five different ways of taking the story forward. I just make sure, I take the most shocking, controversial route in each of these choices!”

Style of Writing

“I write very short chapters. In Bankerupt, I have 77 chapters for 312-odd pages! Short chapters help keep the audience hooked. I don’t concentrate more on character development. The more I include chapters on protagonists grieving for the loss of a loved one, the more chances that I might lose the audience. My aim is not to develop characters like in a romance novel. I write thrillers…and thrillers must be page-turning and lightning quick. However, it’s a choice you make. It works for me. Identify your strengths and use it.”

Pages, Fonts and What Not

“Typically, a thriller should be 300-350 pages. And ya, around 270-280 words per page. Anything more, and you would lose the interest of the audience. Cover design is very important too. An average buyer spends around 7 seconds looking at the front cover, and 12 seconds reading the back cover. If you don’t attract the reader within those 19 seconds, you’ve lost a potential buyer. Once and for all.”

Tips for Young Authors

“Anyone can write a thriller; Just have a murder within the first five pages of the book, and a shocking twist in the climax! But, yes . . . to weave all real life stories together from multiple sources, different time frames, takes a lot of effort. Give the author also some credit!”

A parting note

I had a personal talk with him before I left. He had this to say.

“If you have a dream . . . follow it. Yes, you would be afraid of criticism, it is normal . . . but, don’t give up. Be brave. If you love writing, if that is what you truly want to do in your life . . . give it everything. I have a day job, and I come back home, tired, famished. But, I don’t stop writing. 9pm to 1am is my slot. My zone. I promise myself that whatever happens, I will write. Keep writing. Always. And one day you will be a great writer. Good luck Vishnu.”

Ravi Subramanian is my inspiration for his courage. He carved a niche for himself as a master of corporate thrillers. My world in the end wasn’t left bankerupt, infact it was filled to the brim with happiness, passion . . . and love.

Ravi Subramanian | Bankerupt

My rendezvous with God!

I woke abruptly from my deep sleep as a brilliant flash of light literally blinded me. Squinting my eyes in protest, I turned towards the ceiling of my bedroom cursing all the while.

“Hello my dear boy!” God beamed a million-watt smile.

“Huh? Could you please turn off your toothlights please? Its blinding me!” I pleaded.

“Oops . . . sorry my dear” God said and snapped his fingers. The lights glowing from his teeth went out in a flash.

I rubbed my eyes in wonder. I couldn’t believe that God was standing in front of me. . . well, rather . . . he was floating.

“Is it really you God?” I asked awestruck.

“Ofcourse my boy . . . Whom else were you expecting?” God shot back and adjusted his long hair full of cobwebs.


“What now?” He asked.

“Your hair . . . Its full of cobwebs! When is the last time you’ve had a bath God?” I probe.

“Huh . . . Its all your fault! You bathe me in milk once in a blue moon and then forget all about me! How am I expected to stay clean?” He questioned sadly.

“We didn’t know you needed to bath everyday! I thought you were well taken care of in heaven!”

“Well . . . as a matter of fact, we don’t have any shampoos or conditioners back there . . . all we have are an abundance of waterfalls . . . but, no soap! Humph!” God exclaimed.

“Yuck!” I ridiculed, holding my nose playfully.

“You are a naughty kid! I will ask my personal assistant Mr.Fate to keep a close watch on you. Wait and watch!” God teased.

“Am just naughty, but . . . you are evil God! Why do you create tsunamis, earthquakes and natural calamities and kill innocent people?” I shot back.

He sighed.

“It is with a heavy heart that I do it beta, sometimes you humans take relationships for granted. You understand the value of a person only after they pass away. Till the moment they are alive, they are treated like mere dogs. That’s why I create natural calamities. . . to make humans realize the value of love, care, affection and above all hope. Hope that the next generation would treat humans as humans and not as objects. They are my sons and daughters beta and I need to take them away to heaven with me. It hurts me like hell, but I still do it even though my heart aches.”

I nodded in silent contemplation.

I tried changing the topic. “How is it that you never grow old God? Do you use some anti-aging creams?”

God blushed a bright red. “Now . . . you make me shy! I have drunk the elixir of life potion you see! That’s the secret to my beauty” He winked his eyes in pride.

“Oh God! You are so vain!” I teased.

He let out a huge laugh and brushed my hair with His hand.

“So . . . Mr. Aditya, I heard your mom complaining that you aren’t concentrating on your studies at all! Is that so?” He asked.

“Huh? Aren’t you supposed to KNOW if I’m studying well or not instead of asking me?” I shot back, bemused.

God smiled sheepishly. “Well . . . the servers in heaven have crashed down for the past two days, so am not keeping track”

“Why is that?”

“It’s because of all of you . . . Look, you multiply and reproduce at the speed of light! We can’t keep adding fate lines into the server for every baby that is born. Even before we write one child’s destiny . . .you produce a hundred more!” He sighed.

“That’s because we love families and kids God . . .” I argued. “Don’t you have a family?”

“Am an orphan Aditya . . . I have no parents. That’s why I love the world being filled with happy families and kids. It gives me happiness.” He said.

“Oh . . . Are you a bachelor too then?”

God grinned sheepishly. “Guilty as charged!”

“You must lead a boring life!”

“Well . . . you can’t have everything in life!”

“But . . . aren’t you God Himself? I mean, you can do ANYTHING you want to!”


He smiled. “Let’s just say I haven’t found the right woman in heaven as yet!”

I rolled my eyes. “I thought heaven was like . . . well, heaven!”

God laughed. “Heaven is on earth my dear boy”

“On earth?”

“Yes . . . This was heaven once upon a time . . . but, now its turning into hell.”

“Earth is heaven?” I ask again in amazement.

“Yes it is Aditya . . . Look at all the trees, the waterfalls, the snow capped mountains, the flowers, the rainbows, the oceans, the stars, the rain . . . everything is heavenly isn’t it?”

I gape my mouth in wonder. “But . . .but . . . we don’t even realize that we are living in heaven?”

God smiled sadly. “Humans are caught up with individual fantasies, ego, jealousy, mistrust, deceit, treachery, lies and hate that you don’t have time to understand that you are living in heaven”

I nodded in silent contemplation.

“So, back to the question I asked you . . . Why aren’t you studying well?” He questioned.

“God . . . There are so many things I need to do . . . Watch cricket matches and serials on TV, speak with my huge group of friends, go to parties, coffee shops, play games on Xbox, chat on FB, eat, play, sleep . . . ” I rattled on.


“Facebook, God!” I shook my head disbelieving. “Don’t tell me you don’t know that!”

“What does it do?” He asked.

“Well . . .its a platform where you can catch up with all your friends and chat and share photos and videos!”

God beamed. “Will you create one for me too then?”

I laughed. “Aren’t you just like a cute little boy? Sure . . .I will create a profile for you God!”

He extended His arms towards mine. “Friends?” he asked.

“Friends!” I exclaimed and shook His hands. A jolt of electricity seemed to rush through my veins.

“Ask me any wish Aditya . . . I will grant it to you”

I thought long and hard. Any wish? Wow . . . I could ask for the fastest car, the biggest house, the prettiest girl! Anything!

“Give me a world without corruption, poverty, illiteracy and misdeeds and a world full of love and happiness God”

God looked at me with pride. “Its in your hands Aditya”


“Yes . . . Yours and the billions of other humans in this world.” He continued.

My face fell. “That’s impossible God!” I said.

“Nothing is impossible Aditya . . . I have given each and every human being the power to change the world!”

“But . . . ?”

“No ifs and no buts! Just promise me that you will not indulge in any of the misdeeds that you know of. Change should begin with you and spread to the world Aditya” He pressed on.

“I will change, but . . . the people? They won’t!”

“Why won’t they Aditya? Nobody was born a bad person. It was the circumstances which made them bad. Believe in the magic of change, believe in the magic of love and tomorrow the earth will turn into heaven again.”

I nodded my head. I needed to hear this.

“Promise me that you will concentrate on your studies and do India proud! And follow your dreams come hail or shine, I have created problems only because I trust you to break them. Problems help you grow stronger. It gives you courage. Spread love and happiness to the world. Share with the underprivileged. Make them change. Make them see a better future . . . for themselves . . . for their families . . . for their kids . . . for their future generations. You have the power. You can create heaven on earth. Will you promise me that Aditya?”

My eyes were wide open in awe. “Yes, I will God . . . I will!”


I laughed.

“Deal!” I exclaim with pride.

He kissed my forehead. “That’s my friend!” He said.

Just as He was preparing to teleport himself back to heaven, I asked Him a question.

“God . . . Why don’t you come to earth more often? We need you here. They said you were omnipresent, aren’t you?”

He smiled a divine smile. “Am always around you Aditya . . . Everywhere” He said.


“Yes . . . everywhere!” He smiled back.

“I don’t see you anywhere!” I remark.

“Well . . . what do you think are the powers of God?” He asked.

“Hmmm . . . I guess you can do whatever you want and create anything you wish . . . ”

“Create human beings too?” He probed.

“Ya . . . I guess you can do that” I say.

“And love unconditionally?” He asked again.

“I guess so . . . Ya!”

“Don’t you know of anyone else who can do that?”

It struck me like a bolt of lightning.

“My mother?” I gape.

He smiled.


“Not only your mother . . . but, all the mothers in the world.” He said.

“The women too?”

“Well . . . they would become mothers one day!” He said with a wink.

‘Wow’ I thought to myself.

“Hard to believe?” He asked.

I shook my head.

“I’ve been around you God every day and I don’t even know it!”

He laughed. “Now you know!” He said.

“But . . . aren’t you supposed to be a male?”

“That’s your notion Aditya . . . I can take any form. Infact, I take the form of women more because they are the epitome of love.”

“That’s why half the world is filled with females?”

“Yes . . . They are all manifestations of Me”

“And . . . knowing this, we ill-treat them, misbehave and harass and rape them?” I ask in shock.

“Humans don’t understand my value Aditya . . . They treat me as objects.”

“I won’t allow it God!” I exclaimed.


“I won’t allow people to mistreat women from now on!”

He smiled. “Thats my boy!”

“I will make sure the world understands that women are the messengers of love and the manifestation of God Himself! That’s my promise”

He smiled. “Thank you Aditya . . . I hope one day . . . the world will change and learn to respect women. And that day . . . ”

” . . . The world will turn into heaven again!” I proclaim.

“YES!” He beamed.

“So you will grant my wish?” I asked Him.

“Will you uphold your promise?” He asked back.

“I will!” I said.

“Then . . . I will too!” He said.

I smiled. He smiled back.

And with a flash, He was gone.

“Wake up Adi! Its time for your college!” my mom screamed into my ear.

“Huh??” I wake up with a start. Was it a dream after all?

“Here . . . I’ve prepared coffee!” my mom said, handing me a cup. “And today I have prepared your favorite breakfast!” she said and kissed my forehead. A jolt of electricity seemed to rush through my veins.

I hugged her tightly. “I love you ma!” I said.

She hugged me back. I felt a drop of her tear fall on me. “I love you too Adi!” she said.

Tears brimmed my eyes as the only messenger of my rendezvous with God.

Courage: A Day in the Life of a Soldier

Day#4 of the VIBGYOR CBC challenge.
G for Green.

It was unlike any other day in Maya’s life. She woke up with a splitting headache and a severe pain in her chest. Something was not right. She could feel it in her veins.

 The shrill ring of the landline disturbed the morning peace. Massaging her head, she picked up the phone without a thought.

 “Hello?” she said.

“Maya?” her dad answered.

It was that voice. There was something dreadful in that voice. She knew something bad had happened. Something wasn’t right.

“Ya dad?” she questioned feebly.

“Vishnu is dead, Maya” he whispered, and cried out aloud.

Maya’s hands shook on the phone. Her heart missed a beat. Tears wellled up in her ears. But, she wanted to stay strong. For her dad. For Vishnu.

She nodded, and closed her eyes to shut the tears from flowing down her cheeks. “How did it happen dad?”

“He was shot dead while fighting terrorists, Maya” he said.

She nodded silently.

“Maya? Are you there?” he jerked her out of her thoughts.

“Huh? Am alright dad . . . Will call you back in a while. Take care.”

She put the receiver back, wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes, and smiled.


“I got to surrender Krish”

“Are you out of your mind Vishnu? You can’t do that. You will die. Just let the enemies take over our building. We can’t do anymore.” Krish said.

Vishnu smiled. “You speak just like our politicians do”

“Don’t be stupid! And, please don’t call me a politician. Scold and slap me if you want to” Krishna said, wearing a bemused smile on his face.

It was freezing cold. On top of the himalayan ranges, the temperatures were -20 degrees. Vishnu hadn’t eaten for days. His only source of food was snow. He used to lick it off rocks. He used to squeeze it and drink it. It kept him alive. Vishnu had no bullet proof jacket. Just a sweater. A green sweater on top of his green army attire. It was hardly sufficient. He was shivering because of the cold. He paced up and down the tunnel where they were hiding.

Outside the tunnel, the enemy lay in wait. Gunshots were heard all around. He couldn’t bear it anymore. He had to make sure that India would not surrender. India cannot lose, he thought. He had to give himself up. He wanted to make sure atleast Krish was alive to fight the enemies. He was ready. Ready to sacrifice his life.

He wasn’t afraid to die. He never feared death. ‘Dying when serving Mother India, is never a death. It is nirvana’ he used to say. ‘People living a useless life, with no dreams and aspirations . . . they are the ones who die. Not me.’

He removed his green sweater. “Keep this safe Krish” he said, and suddenly, without a warning, he rushed into the darkness. Into enemy territory.

“Vishnu . . . don’t go!” Krish screamed.

But, it was too late.

The sound of gunshots resonated throughout the tunnel. There was a blast. And then . . . silence.


In the two years since Vishnu’s death, Maya had achieved everything she thought was possible. She had become a famous writer, just like how Vishnu wished her to.

One thing kept her going. The letter. Vishnu’s letter.

She opened the cupboard, and took the letter in her hand. She knew the content by heart. She had read it a million times.

“Dear Maya,

One day this letter will find you when am long dead, and gone. Gone from this earth, yes. But, never from your memories dear. Never away from you. I will love you always darling. Today. . . and for an eternity more.

Am sorry that I couldn’t bid you goodbye, nor could I kiss your beautiful forehead before I departed . . . but, I just want to tell you that I have loved nobody else as much as I have loved you. Not even God can love you as much as I do. I will never go away darling, am always with you . . . look around you, look beside you. I will be there. By your side. To wipe your tears. Be strong my dearest.

In my next birth, I want to love you again. I want to hate you again. I want to marry you again. And, I want to spend my entire life with you again.

I also want to be an army man again dear. I want to serve Mother India. And, I want to sacrifice my life for our nation. Again. I know you will understand my love. For my country.

Promise me that you will never cry dear. Always smile darling, because I love your smile. I will die a hundred deaths just for that smile of yours.

I have enclosed with this letter my green sweater, a hundred kisses, and my heart. I love you.”

A tear fell from the corner of her beautiful eye.

She silently wiped the tear away.

“This one is for you Vishnu” she whispered.

And, she smiled.


soldier crying

“Playing in England, at temperatures of 2 degrees, and winning. They deserve to be treated as demi-gods.” they said of our cricketers.

What about the real heroes who fight tooth, blood, and nail for our country in the Himalayan regions at -30 degrees, with no food nor water?

Green is the color of the the army dress. Green symbolizes prosperity. But, for an army man, it symbolizes pain, and loneliness.

Away from their family, fighting for his country, beheaded like goats by the enemy, while we lie on our couches watching the latest serial on TV.

They deserve to be treated as superheroes. The real Gods of the country.

Remember their sacrifice.

This post is for them. You are my greatest inspirations.

Eternal love . . . ♥

This post is part of the Chennai Bloggers Club’s CBC VIBGYOR BLOG TAG where some of us will write a post on the colours of VIBGYOR each day starting 1st of Sepetember to the 7th of September.

* * *

Under a canopy of a million stars, I held his fingers in mine . . . lost in eternal bliss.

It had just rained, and the rainbow that appeared when the sun had set, was still faintly visible.

Time ceased to flow.

The weather was amazingly romantic, inducing poignant thoughts in my mind.

The waves embraced our feet.  The sound of the ocean was sensual and hypnotic.

“Krishna . . .” I turned to face my soulmate.

He turned, and looked deep into my eyes with love.

“Remember our first time in the beach?”

“Ofcourse darling, it was an amazing night wasn’t it?” he smiled blissfully.

I filled the space between his fingers with mine, and squeezed them tightly. I was living my dream. He was my dream. The only person in the world whom I had loved with all my heart.

I smiled.

He lay down on my lap without a warning, and turned his face towards me.

He looked like an angel from the heavens. He smiled peacefully at me.

It was a smile that transcended millions of stars. My heart skipped a beat. Even his tiny actions made me fall head over heels in love with him. Age never diminished the effect he had on me. I stroked his luscious hair and ran my fingers across the lengths of his handsome face. I could feel electricity in my veins. I love him so much, I thought.

He started playing with my fingers and kissed every inch of it with his lips till it was wet.

In the distance, I could make out the silhouette of our daughter, dancing in the waves that engulfed her feet.

“Priya . . . its time. Lets go home sweetheart.” I shouted into the wind that blew past my face.

“Hmph!” she said, and slowly ambled back toward us.

Krishna quickly scrambled from my lap and whisked his fingers away from mine. No romance in front of Priya, he had said. I hid a smile.

But, he was too late. Priya had already seen us.

“Naughty . . .Naughty . . .I saw you both!” she shouted.

Krishna extended his arm towards her.

She glided her fingers smoothly into his outstretched hand, and he pulled her close to him. She fell into his lap without a hint of thought.


“Oops . . . are you ok?” she asked, concerned.

“Ya sweetheart, just that my legs aren’t young anymore. . . Am old you know.” he reasoned.

She hugged him tightly around his chest, and kissed his cheek vehemently.

“You are the best daddy in the whole world!” she declared.

He smiled.

“And you are the best daughter in the whole world!” Krishna declared.

I playfully slapped him across his face.

“What about me then?” I questioned.

Krishna looked at our daughter, they both had a glint in their eyes. He winked at her, and they both turned towards me.

“You are the worst enemy in the world” they said together.

I laughed.

“I hate you both!” I said.

“We hate you too” they said together.

Krishna lay his head on my shoulder.

I kissed him on his forehead.

“I love you so much my dearest soulmate. Am nobody without you. You are my world” he said.

He looked up at me with his intense brown eyes. I felt goosebumps all over my body.

I held his fingers in mine, and kissed them with my lips delicately. He tasted like strawberry, my prince.

“Ahem” Priya cleared her throat, breaking the bubble that Krishna and I were in together.

“Public Public” she mocked.

“Oops . . . ” I said sheepishly. “My stupid heart!”

We all smiled.

“You got to tell me your love story today daddy!” Priya ordered.

“Our love story?”

“Yes, I want to hear all about it!” she said.

“Hmm . . . the story . . . ok . . . where do I begin?” I looked at Krishna helplessly.

“The first time we met Vishnu ma . . . begin there” he answered.

“When I was wearing that violet shirt?”

“Yes . . . ”

I looked at Priya, and cleared my throat.

“I have two of the world’s most amazing daddies!” she exclaimed.

I smiled. “Yes, you do.”

“So . . . Let me begin then sweetheart” I say.

And, with God, the rainbow and millions of stars in the sky listening in, I began my story . . .

* * *

The rainbow flag is a symbol of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender rights.

This post is to support their rights, and their choices. True unconditional love prevails, irrespective of gender, and orientations. Let us open up our minds, and embrace the world with no preconceived notions.