Dear illness,
You're here whenever I have not been myself lately. You're like a policeman making me a prisoner, forcing me to stay indoors. Having you is like having a baby inside of you to take care of. I do not like taking the pills, wear a layer of clothings to prevent the chills. You make it too difficult to get out of the bed.
I resist you. I work harder when you are around to avoid you. I run faster during the day, sleep more at the night just not to feel you. I stay fighting with you, without having it to fight with you.

Hoping that you do not call this body your home.

Goodbye!

Never to see again,
Vipra Madaan.

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"देर रात तक पढ़ रही थी, मत उठा उसे," कह कर के पापा मम्मी की डांट से बचा लिया करते अक्सर। फिर चाबी से पैरों में गुदगुदी कर रजाई खींच ले जाया करते। कहते, "बहुत समय हो गया। तेरी मम्मी सब कुछ अकेले कर रही। उठ जा, मदद करा दे उसकी।" मैं दो बार बोलने पर उठती। कमरे का सभी सामान समेटती, खाना ला कर मेज़ पर रखती और सो जाती। मम्मी के पैरों की आहट सुन झट से उठती। आधी रोटी मुंह में, आधी हाथ में दबाए हुए, एक मेज़ के नीचे कागज़, किताब पर। मैं प्लेट रखने जाने लगती कि मम्मी का एक और रोटी देने आना और कहना कि तेरी लिए बनाई है छोटी सी, खा लेना।
आज मेस का समय तय है, देरी से उठने पर खाना नहीं मिलता। पिछली रात का खाना मेज़ पर रखा हुआ, रख कर के भूल गई। दूध का कितनी बार पनीर बन गया। अखरोट कीड़े खा गए। आटे वाले बिस्किट का डब्बा आधा खत्म हुआ कि फिर खुला ही नहीं..

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हर कोई कह कर के गुज़र जाता है कि विप्रा बहुत हंसती है
चेहरे के आगे मुखौटा लगा कर के चलने का हुनर सीख लिया है मैंने

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ठीक ही कहा है किसी ने जब आप किसी चीज़ में अच्छे हो न
उसे दूसरों के लिए मुफ़्त में कभी नहीं करना चाहिए।
लोगों के भाव बढ़ जाते है!

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जब ओहदा बढ़ जाता है न तो अपनो से भी अपॉइंटमेंट लेकर के बात की जाती है!

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To me, making friends in college is like a summer project. Pressing flowers in a scrapbook and studying their details.
We enter into a garden, collect flowers of varied shapes and colors. Like we enter into a classroom or a working arena, make friends with students/ people of different qualities and interests. We take care that the flowers are in good condition not torn or have any blemishes. Like we see that the friends we choose are not a spoilt brat actually or have any of the bad habits. We pick up the right ones for us. We open a book, place the parchment paper inside and press those flowers facing downwards on the paper. We close the book and let them dry. Just like we open our hearts for them, making them a space inside, with caution. We kind of enclose them in our hearts, study their characteristics, get to know more about them with time.
Years later, we open the scrap file/ our photo album and cherish the colors/ the memories of the times.

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When the things go wrong
And the world turns upside down.
You may not see through the dark.
But don't remain stood, and shout and cry.
Wait.
Wait for the clouds to subside.
For the light to seep.
Only the calm minds reflect like the still waters.

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Innocence in 8 words :


You do not love me but her, only.

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Papa, a word that carries my World.
In him lies me.
His hairs for me to play.
His forehead to bring me to peace.
His eyes for me to feel his love.
His nose to know of my chores.
His ears for me to bury my secrets.
His mouth, lips to heal my heart.
His cheeks to bring me the smile.
His shoulder to rest my head upon.
His chest to rub my tears at.
His lungs to help me breathe through him.
His arms to protect me through the winds.
His heart that makes me the sound when beats.
His kidney to filter my negatives.
His fingers for me to hold.
His hands for me to never let go.
His back to have my back.
His legs to make me walk along, in the hardships.
His feet to keep me grounded.
His toes for me to stand the test of times.



_Happy father's day, papa_

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Strange know, we move on losing some people but our life changes the moment they leave, and a room is left for them in our hearts. With our life, we also change. We are different, with different people. Our personality changes with every person around. We realise that we don't laugh often when they are not around. We don't discuss the shows, the plays, the books with anyone then, we smile when someone reminds us of them, when someone says they used to talk about us.

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