Advice on growing older (From a younger sister)

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Swanil Choksi sent us this labour of love from her younger sister- a letter for her birthday, with all the advice she had dispensed to her younger sibling in years past.

Dear Swanil,

I haven’t exactly been terribly affectionate all these years, but you know I mean well and like Khyati rightfully said, thank god, there’s someone other than us on the receiving end of your wet kisses. You have no idea what a relief it is! 

On this birthday, I will remind you about all the things you told me. Perhaps, that led me to do a lot of things I would not have had the courage to do. I mean, I still went on even after being mugged and attacked, that must have been some good advice right 🙂

Firstly, like you told me, there is no “what I should be doing right now” concept. So, remember to do exactly what you want. Don’t give into the capitalistic bullies and just enjoy what you’re doing; very few people get the chance to make the choices we have made. 

Travel. It teaches you things that no parents, cousins, school or university can teach you. Take your hammock and coffee maker, and just go. Trust me, you will not regret it. Go meet some Indigenos , Aboriginis and Masais and learn from them, what really matters in life.

Go on a “walkabout” like the Aborigini’s would say. May be a month or two before the wedding.

Oh and yes, I forgot, get mugged at least once, that teaches you more than you need to learn haha!

Read. I know you tried to get me to do that for the first few years of school. But yes, when I started I couldn’t stop. It’s the best therapy ever :). Don’t ever give that up, however busy you are.

Be your eccentric self. People who think too much rarely ever land up doing what they really desire, at least that’s the idea I get. There are no norms, and even if they exist, they exist in the minds of those you shouldn’t really bother about. Don’t think too much, and you know your hammock’s always there. You know what you have to do.

 Ask questions. I know you find it terribly annoying, but then, you don’t always have a book or Google around. Only when the person responding to your questions is fuming, you stop.

So, well, there you go. I have told you what you already know. But sometimes, you need to be reminded, out loud too. I have always followed your advice, and it hasn’t turned out that badly for me. So, follow your own advice. Trust me, it works.

 And lastly, if the advice backfires, which I’m sure it won’t, haha. You know Munish is always there and we’ll be only a phone call away. But in case you get attacked or mugged, sorry, but you are on your own haha!

I hope you truly enjoy your birthday and everything we have planned for you.

 Lots of love,

Pooja

 

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My Little Woman Wonder

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Many years ago, under the cool stone arches at Wilson College, I met a young girl with the sun in her hair and a smile in her eyes.

Then, as is now, she stood out. Among all the colours and the faces, the laughing hellos and the excited murmurs of a new bunch of feet making their way across the grand stone archways. She always smiled at me, always had something nice to say. She strolled through the corridors with her pretty, tangled curls and her twirling skirts, and threw her heart into everything. Every step of the way, to wide-eyed juniors and beady-eyed seniors, she stood out.

One day, I shared a secret with this girl. In a little room, as we dressed to go to a (very disastrous) prom night. As I opened my heart to her, she didn’t balk, or bat an eye. She looked at me with complete understanding. No judgement, only acceptance. More secrets followed over the years. And still, even as I tell them today, she scolds me, lectures me, reminds me of who I am and why it’s disastrous to make impulsive decisions. Then she gives me an acceptance hug. A this-is-who-you-are-and-you-are-a-fool-but-I-love-you hug. Only the most giving know to distribute this kind of hug.

She showed up the same way for my wedding. The sun (and some lost sleep) in her hair and the familiar twinkle in her smile. She showed up, from across the sea, to be there for a day most others wave away with an I’d-love-to-but-I-can’t. She always shows up.

I love her very much, this girl. But I also respect and admire the woman she’s become. Friendship is beautiful, no matter when you find it. But sisterhood, it takes time to grow up and blossom. While her pretty little packages and typewritten letters still grace the special places in my treasure chest, and while her voice comes shimmering down through the Skype window, so much of our relationship has been built on our love of words. Words that are sent in the mail, inked on our skin, words that form slowly through internet windows, in language only we speak…

And so what better way to wish this beautiful, beautiful woman a wondrous year ahead than on this space we have crafted together.

This Women’s Day, I celebrate the woman you are and everything you mean to me, Lil’so

Happy Birthday.

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WordSinging, LoveSerenading.

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While we have spent this month curating, collecting and sighing over your words of love, it was a matter of time before a love letter of our very own was crafted, and loved over. This letter is from one of WordSongs’ Founder’s to another, celebrating love, February, words, and the togetherness&friendship that created this space. 

From One WordSinger to Another,

Singing on the cobbled streets of London, giggling in wine-euphoria and permanently inking poetry onto skin are a mere finger-full of the stories we’ve lived through together.

We have history in long-distance envelopes stamped with foreign seals, memories of pretty little things with prettier little names, and snapshots of books and color.

Since the day I met you, oh-some-odd-years ago, you and I have spoken the same language and shared the same mindspeak; we are the same soulmately “IT” we always were.

You have an ‘official’ Valentine, as do I. But this year, on the the little space we have sung to life, I serenade you, Mrs R, sister of my secrets and my soulspeak.

I love you with much too many cuddles,

K.

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Pride & Prejudice

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Because at WordSongs, we know that love displays pride, and strives to hide prejudice. We know that love stems the most goosepimply sort of literature. And we know that true love, just like words, can bewitch you, body and soul.

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Anniversary of Togetherness

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The 26th of February is a special day for Namrata Sagar and her husband. It is the day they celebrate their two (and counting) years of togetherness, a special journey shared. To remember this, Namrata has sent us a small note for her beloved, saying this…

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In our tradition, we do not write wedding vows, we only circle around the fire and do not really know what we have vowed. But me and my hubby wanted to pen down our own vows and give them to each other the night we got married, which somehow never happened.

So, as we celebrate 2 years of our togetherness and madly-in-love-ness, here are my vows of love to him, which I would like to share with him on the 26th:

Dear Hubby,

It’s the day of our togetherness, it’s the day we decided to let love make us one…

On this lovely day, this is what I have to say:

 

I VOW,

that I’ll live my life with you, as a best friend, forever…

that I will make you the best home possible, wherever we live…

that I will feed you with love, every meal that I cook…

that every time we argue, I will let you think you won… 😉

 that I’ll be to be there for you, when you need someone to dance with…

that every time I sleep next to you, I’ll plant on you a lovely kiss!

that I will live a new dream with you, every single day…

that my entire being is yours, till the end of time…

that I will love you, as long as love exists.

Only Yours, Forever,

Chinki

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The Anniversary of Hope

 

Anon-College

 

 

Photographs can say more than we think they can. They remember pieces and parts of us from faraway times. And sometimes they remind other people of us too. Anonymous has sent us this letter, to a girl he once loved, someone a photograph has just reminded him of. While he can’t send us the pictures, he assures us he has sent them to the lucky lady in question. But we still have his words, and that, of course, is enough for us.

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I was madly in love with you at the time of these photos. Whenever I see them, it still evokes really strong memories. Of Sweet Child of Mine, of trees and arches, of my feelings, and even of the aroma at that time. The one with you and me on Traditional Day is my all-time favourite.

I would sit and look at it for hours, just staring, and hoping…It was also the day I remember you had told me you would take me for a walk and give me a kiss.

Which never happened of course (still pending). The last picture I didn’t click. It was a photo of yours on some social network, but it was so nice and beautiful that I had to save myself a copy.

Your presence in my life has always been so strong right since I saw you in that line for the railway concession form wearing a long black skirt with your braces on, then me selecting your name as a secret angel.. and so on and so forth…

That day is just a few months short of 10 years by the way.

I hope you enjoy these memories as much as I did.

They are beautiful and I cherish them 🙂

 

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Ways to love and other silly things

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Kalyani Shah, shares some wonderful wisdom on that master of all emotions- Love.

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We can love obsessively. Madly, We can love regretfully, just one person. Hurting, craving, never achieving, always hoping. We can love like its a shackle clinking on our ankles, we can give the reins of control to someone who doesn’t want them. Or we can break free. We can love not like it’s a punishment but like it’s a doughnut. A doughnut, creamy and chocolatey, that you give away freely…not expecting anything in return, not holding on to it once it’s eaten. You can also love like it’s a part of you. If, for some unearthly, ridiculously unbelievable reason, you think you have enough love for the whole world. If you can’t help but give love to everything that comes your way, friends, family or frappe. If not loving someone, even when they are at their undeserving best would burden you with guilt. That would be selfless and foolish. But as long as there’s no guilt, it’s also very beautiful. You can love without caring to love. Without knowing you love. For everyone has an element unique to themselves, and love is born from that element. The best way to love, though, is the one that leads from your heart.

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Sibling Lovin’

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We love a good sibling-lovin’ letter. Nancy George has written to her little sister this month to drive some heart-warming truths home.

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This little letter is for  my younger sister, Betty, who lives in the UAE. I miss her more than anyone when I am in Mumbai and I want her to know that I love her so very dearly and that I’ll be home soon, just to see her beautiful, smiling face and the mischievous eyes that I’ve known to love for almost 15 years now:

Dearest Betty, 

How I wish I could tell you exactly how much I miss you. A couple of teaspoons, a bucketful, perhaps even a truck full of love would be delivered to you if only I could figure out how to. Every beautiful Bharatnatyam dancer, obsessive ice cream lover, sleep enthusiast and wannabe comedian reminds me of you. I hear sibling rivalry stories almost everyday and I find myself grinning like an idiot long after the moment of nostalgia has passed. Your absolutely faithful way of waking me up every morning by sitting on me, the random chorus of a ‘Backstreet Boys’ playlist, drink-Pepsi-and-belch-aloud-contests have all been a part of my dreams every now and then. Know that I think about you every night and though I may not be the perfect sister, I’ll always be the one to lend you my shoulder on which you fell asleep every time we returned from a road trip back home. I’m coming home soon, love. I promise. Happy Valentines Day! I know I am not your ‘dream boy’ but hey…I am the first best thing that has happened to you and you know it. The day you held my finger in your palm and I watched you fall asleep on Mum’s lap, was the day I realized that I’ve inherited the most beautiful thing on this planet. You mean the world to me, Bets. I wish you’d believe me when I told you and not hit me with a pillow instead 🙂

 

Tear drop on the cheek glistening-ly yours,

Nance 

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Love, Loss & Airports.

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Today, we’re publishing the kind of love letter we cherish – no, worship – the most. A story.

Love, loss, and memories, weaved into words we could have read forever. From an anonymous lovely, we warm to her heartache, her heart songs, her heart. Her words took us to her world, her love, her airport. And we were sorry to leave.

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There are days when I stand inside an airport.

Then there are days when I walk into a glass space, smelling of something familiar, and then I see things, inside my head, trolleys, passports, travel documents, crumpled air tickets, bags with tags, vanity abundant. I hear the sound of shoes and heels, all in a hurry, announcement for a man gone missing, a flight ready to take off. A distant alarm of a duty free discovery. Then I see you. In your brown T-shirt, standing there, giving me a pose, a salute. You always knew I love a good salute. You stood there, as I walked past you, ahead in that line. I still recall the sequence of events. You hugged me—god that was a long hug. Then you held my bag, pushed it on my shoulder, and then you stood back. Your hands still nervous, your body shivering. There were people behind me, a business class passenger with his perfume blocking the world against him. There was a lady struggling with her stubborn baby. A thousand distractions and then there was you. I saw you smile, even as your hand moved slowly to your forehead. That salute, I still watch that pair of eyes as it looked at me. I hate to say that my memory is bad, I hate to say it doesn’t recall everything. But then how can one forget that wine bottle you opened the first time I visited you at home. The way you taught me that the best cook is the one who tosses an omlette in a hot pan. “always in control, in the middle of the pan, sunny side up!” Of the many walks we took through old Delhi, even as you said, “girls, in Delhi are pretty,” before checking my reaction. Of the night you slept in the couch after the fight we had at Manali. Only to make it the next day by taking me to the restaurant where you ordered all things hot. Of the phone conversations which went till early morning, of the nights where I made you laugh with stories and half baked lies. There are days when I still miss your hug. Days when I think of the cab rides downtown where you would look at me through the rear view mirror. Of the minutes we spent beneath a shower, as it poured soap and romance. Of the time when the house help came to see me hold a saree with pins all over me, and when you cheekily told her, “Can you help her, I only know how to remove a saree.” Of that evening when you held my face, thinking I am asleep and said the sweetest things to me. I was awake, but wanted to hear you. I so wanted to hear you. Of the night you came all the way from Delhi to Bombay to accompany me for an interview with the father of a girl raped. You sat next to me in the rickshaw as we dropped him. “He is a good boy, a little darker than you. A lot in love with you,” the father whispered to me, even as you helped him with his luggage. I still recall the stories you edited for me. The new year midnight where you first spoke to me, all rude and hurried.

There are days when I am inside the airport. Thinking of the last memory I have of you. We will never know why we broke up, why we never pulled through. I got a window seat that night, where I cried behind the misty glass pane. The airport looked all tiny beneath the wings.  I wanted them to switch off the lights.

There are days when I stand inside an airport. It’s been six years since you said bye. But strangely, I have never walked out of that airport. I still stand inside that airport, watching you, as you salute.

I live inside an airport. Even today.

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Anonymous Love Letter: The Unyielding Crush

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This morning, a very pretty (we can tell by her words) brave-heart from Mumbai, India sent us a lovely little letter to somebody she has a huge crush on. While she chooses to remain anonymous and watch from afar, we salute her effort to come forward and send a message through the written word.

And we, as happy little messengers will be sending her letter to what she calls her ‘unyielding crush’, hoping that the words float over to this man and light up his very heart. This is the message she enclosed:

 

Hi there! 

You probably don’t have any idea where this is coming from but I know I wanted to confront you for a really long time. I have had the biggest crush on you for some time now. It’s all the little things, I guess. I love the way you speak to everyone; with such elegance and politeness. Your voice is capable of calming one down and you are so very approachable to absolutely everyone who is lucky enough to have a reason to speak to you. You are more than just intelligent. Your eyes sparkle with curiosity and you’re are always eager to know more and the passion to be more lights up like a furnace in you. Your sense of humour, I must admit, isn’t the most conventional one. But you find so much joy in the simplicity of a very bad one-liner and the most terrible joke in the world may just have you in splits for hours on end. You have a wit, although a very dormant one. You really should bring it out more often. Your cheeky smile can carry it out most beautifully, I am sure. I wish you’d speak to people outside your comfort zone. Though you’re one of the most confident people that I’ve met on the field, it wouldn’t hurt you to perhaps venture out a little more and spend some time socializing and getting to know others maybe just like you. I must seem like such a wimp writing this when I could say it to you, but no matter how old I get, I think I shall forever be a blushing teenage girl too mortified to give in to confession of an infatuation that may just be a little more than a crush. You’re really cute, y’know. It’s not so easy speaking to you. Thank you for being you. Advance Valentine’s Day wishes to you!

 

Sincerely,
Your well wisher (and most certainly not a stalker!) 🙂 

Thank you for sharing your words and experience with us, lovely lady.

Good luck, brave-heart. We’re rooting for you.

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