No more guilty !

The love is finally free,
The love is not guilty anymore.
The lovers are out in spree,
They will be judged no more.
They were forced to be silent,
They were asked to hide.
Strolling hand in hand,
Now they’ll walk with a roar.
Hugs n kisses are no more a crime,
There will be date nights by the sea shore.
Hypocrites will still try to let them down,
Coz it hurts them, its painful and sore.
But now nothing can stop them,
No gender, no society, no law,
As they might look different together,
But their love is pure !

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Shyam is here…

Like wise every year I was spirtually excited for the Krśna janmotsav and did all my preperations for the midnight birthday celebrations.

But this year it’s different.

I was swaying the cradle of the lord in the evening for the first time in so many years.

Let be it the shift of stars or the change in the oscillation, the spirit of celebrations are affected somehow.

We are so used to, of a specific pattern specially when it comes to religious ceremonies, rituals and traditions, that a changed inch is a glitch for us.

But the joy of welcoming the almighty and zeal of chanting “Hare Krśna” uplifts your body, mind and soul with energy.

The love for him is immortal regardless of any existing particle of the Universe.

So Krśna has finally arrived, not in dark night with dark complexion but this time the Shyam actually justified his name with sunset hues.

Happy Krśna Janmashtami
Jai Shree Krishna 🙏

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Towards a new friendship

I was in grade IV when we were first introduced to Diary entry. Initially I took it just as creative writing but gradually I discovered it was more than writing about your day at Science Centre or regretting over your lost pen. I made a diary with binding all unused pages with beautiful cover and used it keep in the drawer of my study table. Whenever Maa used to be upset with me I used to pen down my explanation with apology in my diary and leave it on the table. Maa, blessed with all super powers, always knew that why the diary is on the table today. She used keep the diary back in the drawer as a sign that it has been read. It was a wishing pad also. Things I wanted to get were listed in it for the consideration. Time moved on and so as I. Diary changed to cell phone, pages to notes, explanations to experience sharing but Maa was still the consistent reader. She always motivated me for writing and insisted to share it on a larger platform. There after I came up with #theprivatesocialite my blog in May 2018. And with still trying to fit in the blogging community, here I am in #MyFriendAlexa blogging campaign to explore my self as a blogger, since I’m an unsatisfactory learner. I’m sure at the end there’s surely one thing I’ll be succeeding in that is I’ll be friends with #Alexa.


Happy blogging !

Take me to a place…

Take me to a place

Place where time stand still.

Still there lies a gleam,

Gleam that illuminate

Illuminates my soul.

My soul that soars,

Soars in the dusky sky.

The sky that endures a noval horizon,

A horizon where Alp meets the stars.

The stars that mirrors like diamonds,

Diamonds that echos in the sea.

Sea that is deep and fondled by the shores,

Shores which are serene but swish.

Swish and rustling,

Rustling with the wood.

Wood from the fervent forest,

Forest that dances to the gust.

Gust which is tender and warm,

Warm as cuddle,

Cuddle of your arms !

The bewildered youth..

“Youth” This word baffles me a lot. #Oxford says it’s being young. But 48 years old aspiring politician is “Yuva” (young). SwamiVivekanand’s youth was vivacious young generation with vigor and the ability to revolutionise & reform. But an extensive slot of youth is busy performing dangerously idiotic #kikichallenge. Sordid mockeries on #musically can’t be neglected either. It’s connotation varies gender wise also. For #masculines’ it’s shakti pradarshan whereas for #feminines’ it’s the maintenance after 30. Polictically – mass voters, socially – influencers and hypocritically – bhatake hue yuva (coz acc. to them youth means teenagers swamped into weed, drugs, alcohol & party). These explications make me wonder what shall I deem. For me, being youth, is a vernal heart, ingenious mind, industrious body, radical thoughts & efficacious deeds. What’s your idea of being “Youth” ?

Lips(tick) don’t lie !

Ever wondered how men cheating on their wives would’ve been caught, love letters would’ve been sealed, coffee mugs would’ve been preserved as momento of love or pyaar ki aakhari nishani. That’s the importance of #lipstics. Since more than 5k years lipstics have been Caliph of beauty products and a synonym for makeup. You just put lipstic & stepout and you will hear someone say “itna make-up karke kaha ja rahi ho.” Hello ! it’s the superhero mask of my lips, it adds power to my words, makes me feel confident before the presentation, highlights my pout in selfie and gives flavours to kiss. How can I just imagine my life & world without #lipstic. Even when it’s not there the chaar log of the colony ask you “aaj tabyat kharaab hain kya? It’s absence itself describes my mood, feelings or mental state. Lipstics have come a long way from crushed gemstones powder, dye from chemical elements, beewax, flower petals essance, oil based mould to liquid tubes. And the journey was not smooth & lustrous like a #gloss rather it was really #matte. The Ancient Egyptians & Sumerians (both men & women) applied lipstick to show high status or position. Thank god this trend is out of fashion now otherwise how would our dada, nana or male boss would look like. British parliament banned it in 1770 stating that its an attemp to bewitch males. C’mon males aren’t that easy to sway 😉. The character assassination of lipstic as well as a female by linking its different shade with personality type is also dramatic. #Red is slutry where as #Pink is simplicity, #Brown is intellectual & #Magenta is devilish. #Nude is sophisticated but #Neon is wild. More lighter the shade is more the chances of acceptance in society and if darker the shade, you are a bomb with #lipstic about to explode the society. Some maryadit khandani relatives & uncle ji’s of mine think that applying lipstic is a very unsanskari thing. If it so I’m an independent, liberal and outrageous unsanskaari lady with painted lips. All the lipstick maniacs out there just put on your favourite colour and blow a #kiss and spread #love.

A day of Harmony : A day of Yog,Music & Refugees

Harmony ; synonym of peace, combination of tones and excigncy of the refugees. An ironical day to have #InternationalYogaDay, #InternationalMusicDay and #RefugeeDay together ! #Yoga & #Music heals the body & soul whereas #refugees are the waned vagrant in search of ally. Wish they have the concord harmony in their lives. Here is wee message to the #world.

Detached from our own roots finding shelter in borrowed soils.

Deserting the sorrows behind,

all the way strewing smiles.

Among us some are shoulders at the helm,

some are weeping hearts.

Some are awaiting eyes and some are tender marks.

We wish nothing in opulence,

need only accedence.

Coz we are one,

brothers by ancestry,

united by mankind not by boundaries.

The only thing we pray,

is just a corner to stay !

The ulterior Super hero : Father (-in-law)

Father’s day and social media is overwhelmed by the father’s day posts & uploads. Some cherishing their childhood memories or living the happy moments together. Some missing the one who are gone and remembering the best time they had. I too did the same following the traditions but with a slight shift. My post is my gratitude towards my father and my father in law as well. Physically though #Papa ji (thats what I call my sasur ji) hung his boots, he is still an #Police officer by mind & soul. An disciplined, conservative and samaaj oriented brahmin man has successfully accepted a frank, upfront and anti-samaaj #Gujju bahu. He waits for my call and gets angry if I’m late. Demands for variety of dishes and assists me with chopping. Instructs me to follow the sasural dersscode when required but appreciates my designer dresses. Asks me to serve him only garma garam roti but keeps the tea ready as I wake up from my evening power nap. Orders to wake up before the sun rises, accompany for a walk and awakes for helping me in preparing my teaching aids. My achievements makes him more proud than my husband’s. So basically he does nothing different. I look up on him for pocket money as well as blessinigs and he expects respect and affection. I admire him just like my father and he cares for me just like his daughter. I feel blessed and wish all the #superherosasurji a very #HappyFathersDay with a hope of uploads with Father (in-law) as well in future.

Shivpuri Tales

Summer break this year started with a mandatory visit to sasural – Shivpuri, the summer capital of Scindia dynasts of Gwalior and this time the destination was magnificently contrived Marble centophas of matriarch Maharani Shakhya Raje Scindia ji and Maharaja Madhav Rao Scindia ji. This place is popularly known as Chhatri. The monument is an artistic fusion of Islamic and Hindu architecture.

Chhatri, Shivpuri

The interior is remarkable. Fascinating carvings and fancy windows made me still for a while but more excited to explore more.

And my excitement was doubled as I spotted “The biggest Kadam tree of India” in its compound. Although the Aparichit inside me couldn’t resist the spelling errors but I considered it to be an error of 96.


As the sun was setting the beauty of chhatri was mesmerizing. I would’ve sat there for hours but it was time to leave with a wish to visit back.

The pathway