The Outside, Wondrous World

  The world outside is a wondrous place,

Filled with many myriad miracles to see.

A place, where lot to read

A place, where lot to seed.

It’s a place so unflatter and free.

From the welcoming rays of sun,

To the chirping of birds in turn

They play upon your eyes,

Enticing you from your slumber

In a way to wake you up

And in a tone to feed them up.

Every morning, they slays in a white bright sky

Higher and higher above the sky,

To live to the fullest

To slay to the highest.

If you sit down at set of sun

And count the deeds you have done,

And, counting, find

One self-denying act, one word that eased your heart;

One glance most kind, which felt like sunshine where it went,

Then you may count that day well spent.

But if through, all the livelong day

You’ve eased no heart by yea or nay,

If through it all you’ve nothing done that you can trace

That brought the sunshine to one face,

No act of small that helped some soul,

Then count that day as worse than lost.

The outside world is a wondrous world

and inside the heart there’s a flaming touch.

Let’s spare few time and walk a mile

To bask in the splendour of nature for a while

To listen to nature, composing serene rhyme.

A cool, crisp autumn evening,

Filled with stars shining so high,

God, created the nature,

Let’s come and cherish the sky for a while.

From void, he created beauty,

From dark, he created light,

From spark, he created rays,

And from stones, he created gems.

The whistling wind, passes our ears,

Letting to close our eyes, losing all those fears,

The sea shore waves crashing with rocks

Running here and there, there’s no time on my clock.

I sit and ponder how nature got so right

And we lost all our sight.

The outside world is an endless place.

It shows us how small we can be

It shows us how happier we can live.

It showers the troubled hearts,

With blessings of subtle art,

To rejoice the sweet moment of peace

Forgetting all your stress and streak.

If you take the time to really see,

The outside is a glorious place.

And how lucky we are that this Paradise,

Is only a few steps away.


Up Up and the kite roars

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In mid-January comes our Makar Sankranti

On the northern roads, Sun makes an entry

And the days start becoming lengthy.


A time when farmers feel so pride,

Harvests flourish in plenty,

Culinary cultures make delicacies delight

Where undhiyu and Jalebi is served with the crowds.

And Old is replaced by new and bright.


Now waiting to fly some kites

Wanting to cut some kites.

Hey sky, here I come.


The sun looks so vibrant and radiant delight

That shines through the sky so bright,

The child eyed over the string

Wearing dark goggles and hat so thick,

Caught the string like a medal from the sky.


One little kite up in the blue,

Along came together and fell with the two,

Looking pretty, colourful and glowed

Decorating the red-brick wall with

Those splendid colourful glow,

To sell these ready-made kites

And earn handful pie.



The view of multiple kites,

The landscapes of Chinese lamps

Decorates the plain dark sky

Just like a wonderful exhilaration.


First whirling and frightened, then braver grown,

Opposed by the wind, protested by others,

Often shuffled and shake,

But confidence rose to the peak

When saw the banging and thumping of big kite,

That still manage to rise steadily above the clouds,

Therefore, up, up I rose through the air alone.


Laddering above the limits,

Avoiding becoming timid,

Though the storm hit hard

And vanish all you dart,

Don’t forget!

We all fail in the beginning

To rise quite high above all limits.


Also, when touch the clouds

Don’t forget to stay connected

With the ground,

Any eye off from the flat surface,

can cut your string with a local shout of “Lapet”.




Let’s Have More on Havmor?


Company: Havmor

Founder: Satish Chandra Chona



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Here the curtains open offering a scoop of strength and dedication with a fine blend of innovation and creativity.

Havmor is a rib tickler. It all started in the early 1944, where we were not born though. During that juncture, it was one of the famous ice cream brands in Pakistan, Karachi.

The thread of Havmor is pulled by Mr Satish Chona, engineer by forte and connoisseur by tongue. He worked with British Airways but being gourmand he was more attracted towards part time commitment at his uncle’s restaurant. He learnt there the art of making delectable ice creams.

Finally, he made up his mind to set up a pop-up ice cream shop in Karachi, Pakistan called “Havmor”. Notwithstanding, this pop store was started to supplement his family’s income that eventually paved way gathering million smiles during his freezing journey.           

Things were going in a positive way until 1947, the partition of India and Pakistan took place. The roads went quite rough and quagmire.  Mr Chona had to wind up his business and was compelled to leave Pakistan with almost empty handed. Along with his family, he overnight migrated to India in search of shelter. It’s quite heart breaking to wind your profitable business just because politics was at a toss.

He was the only bread winner of his family. Therefore without waiting for any whiff of sunshine, he laid down his first step in Dehradun. But pals, does anyone achieve success in just one go? His first outlet failed because the climate didn’t commensurate with the ice cream. The customers went averse due to its super chilly climate.

But you often get well-wishers on your way, right? He advised him to shift to city of Indore and you know well that nothing works on our side if your fortune doesn’t follow your path. Mr Chona was cheated of his money at Indore. But this tough situation kept him learning about the diversified cultures and its implication. Later few friends suggested him to move to Gujarat. With practically no money in hand, he decided to up the ante for the 3rd time with utmost faith in his recipe.  

Mr Chona began operations with Rs 200. He and his wife, Nirmal Chona used to make ice creams at night and sold them through a handcart in the day time. Their recipe was outstanding to earn their livelihood. The weather stays warm in Gujarat, which lead to higher ice cream sales. He further borrowed a cycle from one of his friends and sold ice cream around Ahmedabad.  


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Just like every dark cloud has silver lining, similarly the first successful outlet was finally set up on Relief Road. Later latest technologies were incorporated with his son to establish multiple chains of Havmor. It sells around 1 Lakh litres of ice cream a day. Their exclusive range of ice creams like Pista Malai, Hazelnut Rocher, Family packs and cookies and cream played out pivotal role in its success.


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Huber & Holly, a Havmor-owned café offers amazing fusion and customisation of freshly churned cakes, desserts and puddings. Havmor has always, undoubtedly maintained their quality standards. They’ve offered traditional as well as youth-variant flavours to uplift the smile curves of all customers equally.


And the curtains closes when in Nov, 17 Havmor – Gujarat based company was acquired by south Korean LOTTE for a whopping 1020cr, promising to deliver a higher level of growth and satisfaction.  




The roasted Banana Leaf


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“True Love isn’t Romeo and Juliet. It’s Grandma and Grandchild who grew old together, and watered the banana plantation together.”


I have watched my grandma roasting the banana leaf, steaming and folding at an optimum temperature on the gas stove. This routine and unique culinary style elevated my curiosity and I asked her: “Dadi, why you roast and pack the food with banana leaf? You got a fresh wrappers as well.”

“Roasting the food into banana leaf reflects a special aroma, my child”, she intrigued pumping the inhaler into her deteriorating lungs.  Deep down, she’d make a special coconut chutney and packed it safely before I leave for work.


After a month or two, my company transferred me to another city. It was really heart breaking to leave my lovely grandma. And after that, I had heard her only through phone calls and on my demand video calls.

On phones, she used to essayed about how her little banana plantation has grown green and gradually turning towards the sun. For every intricate handloom woven sarees and Kurtis, she used to video called me to evident that her age is just a number.

Our voice chats on WhatsApp were the nitty gritty to alleviate all my pains and stress. Somehow I think, social media had played out an imperative role in connecting us heart-to-heart.

It was late in October when I heard that my lovely grandma had tripped off the stairs hauling her oxygen machine behind her. No blood, no scars but the weight of machine bowed her down the god.

I went numb and traumatised. For the first time, I spoke to silence in my head. I immediately rushed to my home town to get the glimpse of my lovely grandma for one last time.

During her funeral, I realized that there were lot of people who’d gather to mourn her death. I wondered how intensely and immensely her neighbours were adoring her. Everyone kept garlands and bouquets before she was buried.

During that time, I cognised that I am missing something special — Yeah! Banana Plantation. I ran to the plant, watered it and promised to keep it alive till the final twitch. 

I cut a banana leaf, roasted it silently in the kitchen and packed the most favourite meal of my grandma. Before she was laid down the grave, I safely kept that meal beside her arms, but sadly for one last time. I wish to wear the shoes of my grandma. Love you Grandma!

Timeline of my 2018 !

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Hey 2018 My muse !

Did you remember? We meet on Monday,

With the same verve and fun,

But a different glow and blow

Just like an ocean flow!


You came as a whiff of light,

Made my year so cheerful and bright,

Showering your love and care over me

So that I learn all thick and thin with full of glee.


The beginning of 2018 was like a power loom

Grandeur, magnificent and splendour.

But picture was yet to hit

Because I was just at the grass feet.


First three months were full of fun and festive

That knitted me with warm and affection

And upbeat with majestic colours.


As month passes, the road got tough

That turned me quite numb and rough

Because I failed in my career test.

I had put efforts day and night

With an intention to dart so perfect

But my destiny had already chosen

Something so bright and tight.


There came a phase

Where I thought I can’t

But 2018 gave a pat

With a pinch of trust “Only You Can”.


May and June gave a hit to my poems,

Arousing a desire to see my name in a newspaper.

They helped me to prove “Only I Can”.

Plethora of companies bang me with “No vacancy for you”

I still searched, roamed to get such job that I want.

It was’nt easy but not difficult enough to drop

But I choose to fight and not stop.


June finally bestowed me with a job

That I always wanted, of my interest.

Now I started sailing with my ship,

That gave me a powerful leap.


In the later, something fairylike, supernatural happened,

An opportunity bang my door, guess what?

It was Business Standard,

a largest Indian English newspaper.

This newspaper gave me a chance

To ink and see my name under my article.


Thanks to my college faculties,

Who teach from heart,

That’s plain to see,

They think you’re divine

And I totally agree.


It held a magical moment in my eyes,

Scintillating as a star,

Shining like a moon,

Dear 2018! I knew not

You’ll give me such a grandeur opportunity.


Failures often twisted me with lies

They tread me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I decided to rise.


This year had many varied scenes

Of joy and peace, of grief and pain,

Learning was a fun,

Because I fought and not turned.

“I can tie your Shoe lac”

(This is a short nostalgic poem from a Son to his Beloved Father)


You are always my pillar when I knew I’d fall,

Always my anchor, so strong and tall.

You taught me to add the numbers,

You scold me to subtract my slumber.


Time flies and look I am two

Now I know, how to tie my shoe.

I got so mature by six,

That I used to thank god,

To keep you alive and fit.

I’ve never felt the warmth of maa,

Because you are my only maa and paa.


O My dad, with a tired face,

You often entered the house,

Wearing a golden smile and charm,

To teach how you fought from today’s race.


Your teachings are not failed,

Your preachings are not underrated.

You rooted me with all magical values,

You planted me with every necessary values.

You mirrored hard face only for me,

And hide softer side to learn the real wee.



When entered twelve in my teenage years,

You helped me with all my new fears.

At fourteen, you gifted me a splendid bike,

And advised to stay safe and drive.



You never lag behind

In rooting all life pleasures into me.

My cool dad taught me how to drink,

But warned and taught to stay in limits.

Our night bike rides are always awesome,

Where you act childish and I act as an adult.


We’ll never forget those late night movies,

With bunch of popcorns and cokes,

Hilarious dance on playing any folk.

I have seen your tears rolling out of eyes,

And stomach fluffing out, when I start to crake

Ruthless joke, puns and trolls.


Your rough, wrinkled palms taught me,

How to tell, sell, earn and learn.

I feel proud to wake up at 5

Just to deliver those heavy bulky packages,

So you sleep warm and tight.



Till 18 you packed my tiffin,

With my favourite dishes,

And now, I feel verve to cook for you 3 times a day.

Clean, sweep and swipe is now no more at toss,

Today I feel no shame in household chores,

No fame in reducing your loads.


Yes, sometimes I still plate you comic shaped chapatti,

But I never forget to pour my love,

So you eat with taste and remain healthy.


Look Daddy, the cycle has begun again,

It has started all over again.

Now you are my Son and I am your Father,

Look, daddy, now I can tie your shoe lace!

You are my duty, you are my responsibility.


You May Also Like : Cold Days, Warm Hearts

Cold Days, Warm Hearts

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The God, the expert

The deft, the artist

Painted the season of freeze

With a colour of swift.


Winter is the season

that forces you

To pull out camera

And click..click…click📸



Some become photogenic

Some become photographer

Some aims to try out chef

Some aims to spread out ink

And some turned into refined artist

Who ink and sketch out the canopy of winter.



The chef in winter

Plays with the frozen winds 

Who rejoice with

Sweet roasted corns, 

cures the frost,

In cafè conversations, 

Where minds are lost.



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A mug of hot chocolate,                                               

With some choco bites inside 

Added on a winter night,

With a drop of spiced muches

That Celebrates the cozy freezy winter.




Winters welcome the Christmas

Bids adieu to the spring

Where the snow shivers

And shimmering lakes of silvery ice

welcomes skater’s scarring slice


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Hat and scarf

Mitten and boots

All are wrapped under the snowful grove,

That makes you look

Just like a cute little chubby snow man



Winter’s dance is quite a show,

an ice-kissed, dazzling, sliding

where a magical place,

transformed by winter’s cold embrace!



We Adore : Nutella

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Rich, tasty, delight

Delectable, sweezy and bright

Sixty years ago or so

Pietro Ferrero created you 0h Woah!


When chocolates were scarce and pricey,

We never thought,

You would enter so fiercely.


You worked so hard

Still failed so large because

You gave a general call for

“Eat this with everything”.

This made us clumsy and confused

And thought to ignore you.


But you stood up,

You played and not failed.

You re-positioned it

“Eat this with breakfast”.


In 2009, you taught us

How delicious it tastes

With waffles, toasts and bagels.


A dollop in strawberries & bananas

is Enough to make us Oh La La.

A sandwich filling orImage result for tasty nutella

A cupcake flooding

None thrilled us just like you do.


You cherish the smile of millions (esp. mom)

Who toss you on salad,

Who pour you on multi grain bread,

Who wrap you with chapatti,

so that her child remain fit and healthy.


You brought hordes of foodies at your feet

Never wonder how glutton we would be!

Your heavenly taste we adore

Because nothing goes to waste which we abhor.


You are so rich, so incredibly delicious

No need for anything to stand in your way.

You gave an another reason

To love you back

More than prior

And deeper than ever.


Dear Nutella, you are now our obsession

We could eat you day and night andRelated image

still never get tired.

We wish if  we could have you in infinite supply

Nutella, Nutella, you are our only desire !









Time Machine

Every night,
When I go to sleep,
My eyes roll back
deep in my heart
As if I’m searching
To sneak back the time.

It’s dark and blue night,
And trees swaying all the side,
Near dusty scary road,
Where crowd of five sipping chai off the load.

Escaping from my warden,
I waited outside my hostel
For you to arrive –
On Royal Enfield
ofcourse two wheeler – on my demand
At a destination which
We didn’t decide yet.

On some day,
It’s a bridge or temple
A forest or a restaurant
that situated at top of the hills.
No worries for, how tall it was !

Embracing the beauty of nature,
Relishing the yellow white lights
Cuddling you from behind,
My face scintillate
just like Jugnoo in dark deep night.

And when the sparkling sun
Showered my face,
I found myself in a hostel
Away from my mumma,
A Royal Enfield amateur rider.

Realizing it a dream,
I recall those days where
we used to sneak out at night
Drive and Ride
Far from worries
Just to celebrate the love
Between you and me❤.