A Writer's Deli

Try it!

I always thought that someday I would be writing on something related to my work, in my case, human resources but I always thought it had to be very professional and profound and that has somewhat always held me back from starting it. Today, however, I’m just gonna give it a go.

I realize that everything that I learn in theory is great but there is just so little scope to learn things by doing. Mostly cause, people are scared to make mistakes or to take accountability for their actions. This makes them scared to try out new things in the workplace. Since I’m just starting out, I sort of resolve to not be scared to try out new stuff at work- new trends, new technologies, new ways to gauge if things can be done in a better way. After all, that’s how we learn what’s best, right?
Obviously, I’ll do the risk assessment and make sure I don’t get myself fired and all and …. so you see what I mean?

This isn’t too much of insight but that we all forget things. And a little reminder every so often is good.

When was the last time you tried something new at work and what was it?

Swipe left on that

Hi.

(sighs)

On the off chance that this might be the only chance encounter, dumb luck, serendipity, a sheer coincidence, a miracle, some fate, one weird algorithm, a leap of faith, your almost best friend, the one that got away, a wrongful but thankful right swipe…

(sigh)

Take that chance, maybe?

#feelfreetostealitforyourbios

Hachi |video edit

Edited a little something to brighten y’alls day.

Song: Glass in the park

Death’s eulogy

You smell of dandilions and roses
Of the stream of music
From the next car passing by
Stuck in loop for the rest of the day in my head
I swear
On the sweetest slang ‘Shit’
as I fidget with the bracelet
On my wrist, your gift
Chrysanthemums with touch-me-nots
When you bring them to me
On a breezy summer eve
I clutch on to the roots
And sprout open, through cracks
In your voice as you hum
The same old song
We sang that day
in the car passing by,
Crashing by.

Thank you for taking out time to read.I’m Namrata if you’re visiting me for the first time, HELLO ❤ Hope you’re doing good! 🙂
I write about a diverse range of topics, poems, blog interviews,and silly life updates.
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The High

A note to self
A reminder
Of the highs that I get
When the lows are too low
To even expect
A high
I’m high on seretonin
It’s manic
It’s a miracle
Genuine happy, music in the backdrop
Clean room and clear mind
I feel on the top of the world
I have a lingering fear
Of the approaching dip
But that’s far away for now
I want to stay humble
And grateful
Celebrating the Crest
I’m invincible, my dreams so much within my reach
I’ve friends, lots of then
Memes make me happy now
Hard work thrills me
I don’t know how long it’ll last this time
Mom says not to jinx it
I fear I’ll jinx it
But I’m inspired, and I want to etch
in ink, this moment of pure bliss
Capture it into a bottle
Take a whiff from it, for when the dip comes
For now I wanna dance
With spring in my steps
And let the shimmer sparkle
Through my eyes and words
An ode
A note
To the self
That
Happy days are here again.

It’s okay! Blog Update

This post is simply me putting it out there that I haven’t been able to be consistent on the blog since the last few weeks. I haven’t felt inspired to post and I guess it’s okay to sometimes take a break from the usual routine. I’ve recieved requests from a few of you for the Found Ya Blog – interview series and I will get back to you guys. I apologise for slacking but right now some things are taking priority over others. Blogging for me has always been a hobby where I put out raw, unfiltered thoughts in the hope to connect with similar like minded people, reading about their journey and accomplishments through life while sharing my own with them. Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally in awe of the people who have very specialised, professional looking blogs and who put in a lot of effort in their every post, from curating content to scheduling them and presenting them. Maybe someday, I would have those blogging goals but right now it’s just a space for me to pour out unadulterated, raw and random thoughts and anything that inspires me, out here.

Sharing this to remind y’all and myself that all stories are important, the work in progress are as much important as are the successful ones.

Hope you all are doing well.

Thank you for reading. 🙂

Stay!

I’ve always feared
Change
People leaving
Changing roles
Sieving
Learning to let some stay
In their different way
And leave when some may
I try hard not to weigh
Hey
It’s not a parameter
To judge who loves you
Love is love
And sometimes, love can’t stay
But hey
You’ve got you
And you do you
While we all want someone
Who wouldn’t give up
Reassurances and love
In letters and envelopes
In cards and books
They left with us
It’s Okay to move on
For us and they
Hey
You got you
And while all may lag
And some might fall
While some’ll just drag behind
Remember, You got you,
And ‘You’ shall stay.

Baking Therapy | Chocolate almond banana cake

Baked this cake with my sister Nancy, yesterday on the Ocassion of Father’s Day. Nancy gets these sudden bouts of urges to bake and Ta-Da!

Happy Father’s Day ft Indian Dad

I was 3 when he taught me what ambition was. He taught me to spell and recite essays on the postman and cows. He held my hands and traced the writings wherein I struggled to write on my own.
We’ve had our differences growing up. He taught me how to think while often frowning upon when I thought differently. I try rationalising with him, thinking I know better. Sometimes I do. We are different people, I’m still a shadow of him. We fight over politics and religion yet keeping our differences aside when it comes to more important of things.
Growing up with an Indian dad warrants patience, forgiveness, unconditional love and the ability to see the best at your worst. In an Indian household, it is often difficult to profess your love to a father than it is to your mother. At our house, however, it never was. We professed love as strongly and frequently as we declared hatred and anger.

For the first time that you bought me box of paints, my favourite dress, prayed religiously to get me into a good primary school, dropping me at bus stop every morning at 6, staying up late for my exams and shunning television so that I wouldn’t be tempted to watch it either- I love you for that. The fact that you compliment my faded hair colour and worry when I look a tad bit too hot when I go out – I understand why.

Growing up, I have learnt how to love an Indian dad- both of us meeting midway sometimes, while obstinately holding our grounds on other ocassion. I’m grateful for you. I’m proud and I hope I make you proud too, everyday, in the way that I carry and execute myself.
Thanks for the love and the morning cup of tea and everything else.

Happy Father’s Day, Papa.

Something different

Cheese Maggi and chai
I order something
other than lasagna and chillies
With a heavy heart
A lump in my throat
I move forward
A thud, a stomp, a dragging feet
But I can’t wait anymore
My mind goes back to the handwritten card
Your handwriting- a beaut
“The Asshole” I mutter
Giving up has never been harder
June’s passing by
I’m done waiting
I dress differently now
T shirts and shorts
It’s time to color my hair back
Black again
I wish you happiness
I wish us together
In parallel universes
For my sake, I do
The crazed, dazed me
Swears to do it right this time
The notebook melts
I send you wishes
A prayer
A hymn for the lost memories
New memories, Freshly baked
I make Vanilla Cakes
It’s a tug of war
A battle ground
I’m covered in blood
It’s only green
Until it’s red
I snip the thread
That ties me to you
My delivery’s here
Scented candles and potpourri
It’s the beginning
And the farewell
I offer Aparajita to the sea
A symbol of undying love
I love differently now
I read differently
I climb the clocktower
Contemplating the jump
The leap of faith
Different this time.
I give time, time.
I breathe differently now.