Charvi Blogs

It was a full moon night. Cool breeze danced through the trees. The moon’s silvery glow kissed the leaves, and the crystal-blue river mirrored the stillness of the sky. Vedehi sat by the riverbank, lost in thought. Her eyes rested on the moon’s luminous face. Her ears were tuned to the gentle whispers of flowing water. Inside her, a storm brewed. Her outer world was preparing for a wedding she never agreed to — new jewelry, new clothes, grand celebrations, sweet dishes, fake smiles. But her inner world longed for something deeper. Something true. She found the noise around her hollow, and the idea of marriage a gentle death of her freedom. She had come to the river seeking silence — her only refuge. To her, the moon was Krishna’s gaze. The breeze, his soft touch. The river, his quiet voice. Her heart and soul had already surrendered to Krishna. But the world had no eyes to see that. As she sat in stillness, a soft voice stirred the air: “Your bond with me is eternal, sacred...

Meera lay curled on her bed. The room was locked. Lights off. Curtains drawn. Windows shut. Her eyes — swollen, red, heavy — told stories no one asked about. She cried. Loudly. Then silently. She shouted toward the ceiling, the sky, the unknown. “Why so much pain? What have I done? Is it a crime to be a girl in this world? Why is it so hard to have a voice… to be free… to just be me?” So many questions. And yet, no one to answer them. Later, she washed her face, tied her hair, and got ready. The library — her silent temple — was calling again. As she opened the main gate, she stopped. A man in orange robes stood there — like he'd been waiting. A wandering monk. Without a thought, she reached for a ₹10 note and offered it. But instead of leaving, he looked straight into her soul and said, “All your wishes will come true. You will succeed.” She stood still — surprised, unsure. But something inside her softened. “Was that… my answer?” she thought. She didn’t know. But her ...

Sitting in the park, looking at tall trees, and listening to silence of mid afternoon,I am reflecting: how should I live my life? The first scenario is to be a “good girl”. How? Listen to my parents, follow their old rules, marry the boy they choose, and take pride in fulfilling my role as a woman. Second scenario is to be a “modern girl”. How? Go to parties, have friends, dream of marrying a prince charm, love getting ready, wear stylish dresses, and believe that the goal of life is to be beautiful, charming, and attractive. First scenario belongs to  “traditional girl”. She is obedient to her family, dreaming of the day her father will find a suitable boy with whom she will explore the world. She may wear a salwar-saree in her in-laws’ house but is excited to wear short skirts on her honeymoon. Her father has been worried since her birth about finding a groom with a government job, good property, and a respected family. Once the search is complete, he has saved enough money for h...

Imagine God suddenly appears before you. What would you ask? I will explore my own thoughts as my writing proceeds. I don't know what I would ask from God. I would explore my unfiltered, raw thoughts with my writing. The first thing I will ask would be to go back to history—basically, Indian history. I will go back to the times of Ramayana and Mahabharata. In Ramayana, I want to meet Mithila Princess Sita. And not Ayodhya Queen Sita. I want to watch her joyful youth years before her marriage when she was happy, full of dreams, and filled with life. I want to witness her visit to Gauri Mandir as a Mithila Princess. Maybe, as I could imagine, she is peacefully sitting in her temple garden with her girl friends. The flowers would have been blooming in her presence. The trees would have been providing extra shade to the divine beauty of the princess. The pond would have crystal-clear water to reflect Sita's serenity. In Mahabharata, I want to meet Draupadi, the princess...

We humans have a lot of fears—fear of the future, marriage, job, death, looks, society, grades, and so on. Currently, I am facing fears of career and marriage. For career, I have been working hard for years to establish myself, to have a good, stable, and powerful career. I am working for a job that first gives me independence—to stand on my own feet and live the life I want—total, absolute freedom. The second fear I am facing is of marriage. I have no special interest in marriage, but my family wants me to get settled down. As I have seen from my childhood, and still see, a woman’s life loses its freedom after marriage. Especially in India, a married woman, as I witness in my neighborhood, is not even allowed to come to the terrace to watch a beautiful sunrise. She can't go to her maika (parents' home) alone. If she is a career woman, then her in-laws firmly expect her—and she herself expects this from herself—to work both at home and outside. Meanwhile, their husb...

  During childhood, we would go to the park to play with friends. I remember we used to be a group of 8–9 friends, and our favorite game was hide-and-seek. After playing, we would enjoy ice cream—orange-flavored, 5-rupee stick ice cream—our little park meal. Once, my school, Happy Hours Public School, took us to park for the Republic Day celebration. It was a fancy-dress competition, and since I wasn’t dressed as any particular character, I became a "foreigner" by default. My teacher chose me because of my fair skin. Haha! My brother became Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose, the great freedom fighter of India. Well, those were childhood memories—the age of the park. Soon, we migrated to another place, not far away, just a different colony. The park became a distant dream as I got indulged in a different world. Now, in my mid-twenties, I have started going back to the park—but this time for a morning run. I wonder how much has changed. They have created separate walking and running ...