Desert Coursers


Adventure trips give people a chance to shun the barrenness of a busy life. After all life is all about collecting moments and not things. A lifestyle full of schedules and mundane tasks tends to deviate from the path of happiness and mental clarity. We are accumulating stress in all areas of our life, robbing us of pleasure and adversely reducing both or personal and professional effectiveness. It’s for this reason that Stephen Covey has dedicated his ‘Seven Habits of Effective People’ to self renewal through recreation and relaxation. Goofing around every now and then or chilling out in the lap of nature become inevitable as we believe that the human spirit needs places where Nature has not been rearranged by the hands of man.

Being an educator, I’d like to call it one of those few advantages of my profession that I get such getaways or opportunities where we can spend some days in the wilderness and learn more from nature.

My recent visit to a very small town, Zainabad, Gujarat gave me a couple of good memories to remember and cherish forever. Zainabad is situated in Gujarat and is primarily a tourist destination. Mainly nature lovers and tourists of the world visit this place for it excellent scenic landscape. It was a very unique stay made all the more special by the presence of helpful volunteers and knowledgeable guides who organized the camp.

There are a bunch of traditionally built, eco-friendly cottages, locally called Koobas. Each of them have a small front porch where one can sit on a swing and take in the wonderful surroundings. Inside are traditional Khatiyas with super-comfortable bedding and quilts. These khatiyas don’t look it but are extremely comfortable.


These cottages are fantastic for a true taste of rural life lost in the mist of dust and a continuous stench of mud. The stay includes all meals, which are prepared fresh on-site and served in a beautiful open-air setting.


Desert Coursers is the premier establishment for birding, culture and experiencing the Little Rann of Kutch. A geographically unique landform, the Asiatic wild ass roams free here.The Little Rann also abounds in birdlife and is a popular breeding area for Flamingoes.


Just around 50 km from Zainabad is a place called Modhera which is famous for it’s unique cultural heritage, The Sun Temple. This temple has resemblance with the Konark and Khajuraho temples in architectural style. Built in 1026-27 by King Bhimdev, it was partially damaged when Mahmud of Ghazni raided it. The Sanctum Sanctorum, was designed such, that the rays of the rising and setting sun on the day of equinox, fell on the bejewelled statue.


The experience has been truly a fantastic one for me as it gave me a break from my routine mundane tasks and charged me up for my upcoming endeavors. Be it a ride on the safaris or just a stroll around the cottages, it’s great to relax and rejuvenate yourself by reconnecting with Nature. I believe it is indeed a different experience for all those people who generally search relaxation in malls and movie halls.

The simple yet difficult lifestyle of the tribal and villagers touched my heart endlessly. It felt like a complete blend of struggle and satisfaction. I feel once in a while it is important for all of us to log off from our daily routines and go camping.





Love, Gratitude, Respect,

Might be mere beautiful words,

For you or people in this world.

As per me, these become my conduct

For thee, who is an honoured soul.


They say true love is the one,

Which is lost.

As per me, losing you is also love,

For I lose myself in you everyday.

Neither hurricanes can move,

Nor cyclones can wash,

Neither earthquakes can demolish,

Nor thunderstorms can broom,

What I bear inside me,

Is an ocean of sentiments,

For my honoured soul.


I may write verses in your praise,

But words can’t really do the justice,

To a heart which is so pure,

To a soul who is so virtuous.


My playfulness often seeks shelter in your arms,

My heart drops its worries in thy thoughts.

Since years I have been waiting,

To mislay my soul in yours,

Whom I call an honoured soul.




My Mirror


Your heart is a mirror,

Where I discover a reflection of my soul.Like a vagabond in a chimerical world,

I was fond of daydreams.

You turned those loony dreams,
To a direction where,
Those dreams became ideas.
Yes, darling you are the mirror who informed me,
‘Let your words be few, And exposures many.
When you close your eyes,
I feel my soul is sealed,
When you look away,
My actuality is squandered,
Your dismay,
Taints my reality and causes,
Disunion of the reflection.


Walking in the streets
I feel should I retreat..
The steps once taken dauntlessly,
Now feels burdened to move further.

Melancholy, Agony and Dejection
Are companions for the path to go on.
The woe is not them,
But the loneliness that follows back,
Brings back the memories turned to dust.

They say it true
Between what is said and not meant,
And what is meant and not said,
Most of love is lost.

Part of grief is
The loss of certainty
That things will be as they have been.

Part of a rat race


I’m part of a rat race.

And I refuse to believe that

I’m what I am.

I  realize this may sound different, but

“Being different isn’t a bad thing”

Is an illusion, and

“Running will make me happy”

So in thirty years, I will teach my children

Their growth is not the only idea.

My children will know that

My aims are straight because


       Is more valuable than

            Being the best.

           I believe

         Once upon a time.

        Schools were great.

But this will not be true in my era.

This is a profit bound society,

         Experts tell me

Thirty years from now, I will be on the verge of drowning,

I do not acknowledge that,

I will be responsible for my own condition.

In the upcoming time,

Running for profit will be the motive.

No longer can anybody say that,

My contenders and I care about teaching values.

It will be apparent that,

The upcoming generation is self interested and greedy.

It is erroneous to count on that

              There is Hope.

All of this will come true unless we reverse it

Note: Inspired from Jonathan Reed’s ‘The Lost Generation”

To Mother


Dear mother,

Have never got a chance to see you, but this one is for you.



For the months,

You tended me inside you,

Safe, unhurt and sheltered,

For the times,

I unknowingly hit your womb,

I bow in front of you to hoist a burden like me.



There is a bond between a daughter and a mother,

Which for my life, I could not bring together.

Mother, till now I have never thought of you.

It’s the first time ever,

I’m truly craving for you to be here,

To hold my hand, to kiss my forehead, to wipe my tears,

Just like they do for all others.


So many things, Mom, I miss,

Your gentle hug and the tender kiss.

I can only imagine,

It must be an absolute bliss.


Wish you a Happy Mother’s Day


Lies we told…


The lies we told
As if to behold
The moment which is spent
Not much is left
For us to repent.

Quite shiny it looks from outside
Gestures of these young lovers.
Hiding, are they?
Or just acting under cover.

Tracing the steps of love
Follows hatred to its door.
Perceived it to have died,
Causes the removal,
Of sentiments from the core.

Once together and entwined,
Heart ceases to live, to crave and to be satiated.
And that my friend,
Causes the love to be a liability.

A Special Morning







♥A special morning for me would be a morning when I wake up and blessed with a chance to live my childhood again. As I’m a grown up twenty-five year girl now, I crave for the days which are gone. While writing this I feel nostalgic because that was really the golden time of life which is worth living again. I wish for the mornings when waking up late wouldn’t mess up things for my life, when I’m not supposed to cook for myself and others rather I insist someone to cook something special for me.

After being independent in life, I have truly recognized the value of time, family, money and all the things which I took for granted being a child. But one more thing that I’ve learnt after all this while is the significance and the speciality of childhood.

For me, a morning where I can afford to be late, to  make silly errors which can or cannot be expected , to take risks, to daydream, to forget dates and deadlines, a time where I don’t care about anything except flying, like a lark. It would be a time when I pick my school bag and go to school again to read, to learn, to imagine, to play, to explore, to laugh and sing the song of my heart.

Life becomes mundane when we grow up and we tend to follow all the rules which are dictated to us in some way or the other. I’m not against following rules and restrictions but the sort of innocence with which a child breaks a rule without worrying about being judged for his or her behaviour is totally different and actually a blessing to have.

Heritage Exhibition

Nowadays I’m teaching about Indian heritage in my History class. While describing the events, monuments, traditions and skills of olden times, I was thinking if I could give them a deep insight into the topic by going beyond the textbook.

One field trip to the museum would have helped but not much, one round of audio-visual clips would have triggered interest but not till the depth of the topic. There was a constant need to touch the things and feel it.

The thought struck me when we started discussing the skills of weaving and spinning. I was discussing different fabrics with them and then I realized how nice it would be if the students could actually touch the fabrics and realize the difference in each of them. After all, fabrics are meant to be touched and felt, not just discussed. This thought made me think what can be done for this by staying within the four walls of classroom and still exploring the beauty and glory of past. I wanted to surprise my students with something they didn’t expect their teacher would do on just another day.

Somebody once told me that we all should spend sometime thinking over the steps we want to take so that we’re able to deliver better.

Some words can get you started. I began to execute my plan. For me, it was a step ahead than the traditional. It was just a small effort for my children because they are special.

I collected different variety of fabrics, embroidery and thread work from different sources. Arranging them was a bit of task, but colleagues supported enough to get it done. A small exhibition displaying different fabrics, embroidery, other thread work, pictures and artefacts of ancient time with some encyclopedia were kept to enlighten them with something tangible and new. The heritage walk was followed by a feedback session in which I asked the students about what things they liked, what they remember and what changes they expect.

The outcome of the event is that now they look forward to the History class. There comes a time when being an educator we start over-preparing even for the not-so-important things, for we know someone is expecting more from us. The best thing about this Heritage walk is that the slow learners learnt few things out of it and I saw some new hands being raised in my History session which was a moment of proud for me as an educator.

Journey of Love


I don’t know, since when,

Holding your hand and walking beside,

Turned into clinging and forced you to divide.

You would be happy to know,

I somehow learnt walking alone,

Yet feel strong.

About happiness I cannot say much,

For you never count it with smiles and gestures.

The story of happiness is such.

The journey might become cumbersome,

Gardens might turn graveyards,

And barren would be the paths.

The more I tried,

The more I kept losing.

The more I took pains,

The more I was treated with disdain.

Once you were the twinkle of my eyes,

The voice in my words,

The calmness on my face,

And my footprints’ trace.

Such is the history of love,

Incomplete, obsolete and discreet.