Slow breath,

Measured stride,

Wall of caution,

Flight in stride,

A little push,

A friendly smile,

An encouraging friend,

A gift to confide,

Watch then,

As we rise,

We rise and propel to glide,

we watch with calm presence,

As destiny takes flight.

-Rupika Moitra


– to comply to the norm.

A line from many movies that is stuck to the brain- new brides being told often that men have needs and they need to be met, so they don’t try and meet them outside the boundaries of relationship. So what are deepest instinctual needs and calling of a woman? The most natural need that I know for sure is to grow and nurture life.

Life in the 21st century, profit based, egocentric and consumerist driven would happily diminish a working model of child nurturing and outsource it to a business model of child care, so we can grow more workers in a nursery to develop further needy and unfulfilled consumers who are looking to buy that mother’s nurturing from shop in forms of a branded shoe.

I see mass confusion and judgements of society driving mothers to productivity of nonsense just by shaming their contributions. Are all the answers in doing and earning paper and acclaims of strangers?

Our gratification are rooted in thwarted concepts of profitability measured in paper(money) and appraisals, when both the product and service is honestly S**t against our natural capacities. Can we develop them – sure, 100 percent but is that the good use of our skills and efforts. We are spending long hours in work, we don’t like and it doesn’t like us to train linear thinking, when it is time is to develop multifaceted thinking and multitasking. If every aspect of human lives are dehumanised then we are okay to expect work horses and cattle farms for a world full of apathy and judgement for those who stray. But that’s our new normal.

Motherhood teaches so many profound lesson. Where can be apply them? In a corporate environment around insensitivity. A world based on survival instinct. A dog eats dog world. A world of alphas. The alphas had a mother too. Not her abilities but the use of them and the circumstances questionable…. isn’t it?

The world has always been unfair to most. Do we then still dream that it changes to factor in minds of philosophers, artist and deep thinker. It never does. Some still try and live a life authentic to self. Don’t fight self. Accept self and accept the calling of the soul. I refuse to follow and I also refuse to hurt when judgements of followers step on a that of a rebel. Some are here to change the world or die trying. Some are here to just fit in.

Do what you want- work and play and create and nurture but do it not to satiate the small minded community around you but give voice to your calling, no matter how unprofitable it seems at the moment. At the end, you should be proud of the choices you made because you will have to live wth them. May we choose wisely and may the world turn inwards to its more authentic grounds.


It’s all Proportional

Life is not an absolute. Parts of it are perfect and some part are not so perfect. Embracing the imperfect bits gets harder when we are conditioned to flaunt only the bits that are picture perfect. Here is my effort to keep it chaotic and real.

Two corresponding incidents of life:

Driving out of my driveway, I kept finding a car always parked in such an odd spot, blocking my way. I was getting late to drop the kids to school. I kept thinking I should leave a note saying “Please park mindfully, so you are not obstructing others” but didn’t want someone to have a bad day and decided otherwise.

Cut 2- I bumped into this very car that has been annoying me for days. I decided to inform the owner and pay for the damages for mine and their car. I felt much better for it. End of Lesson.

Scene 2- Dropping my daughter off to dance class. Getting late and office hours traffic. Need to park in a cul- de- sac and a tight spot and hit my tire on the curb. It’s a dark night and almost no street light. This very huge man comes out hurling from one of the houses calling names. I realised my first instinct was to be threatened for my safety and yet relieved that he waited for me to come back after dropping my daughter so she didn’t hear any of it. Shocked at his rage and stunned at the language, I mange to stand up for myself- well, not enough but still. I was content still that it didn’t stir me at all. I felt no sharp heartbeats which happened in the past during confrontations, no heavy breathing. I realised that I am now moving to a place of being centered. One practical effect of meditations.

Yet, I kept bringing myself back, trying to understand the rage in that person or the power struggle and fear of space or his love or attachment for his street curb.

The lesson I learnt was only this : I understood that our blessings are almost immediately proportional to how we choose to be. How abundant and forgiving of a situation or a person, we manage and work on becoming.

We find ourselves living in our own created heaven or hell because both are right here. As crucial as it is to stand up for yourself, it is incessant that one knows how to get out of survival mode when we are not in a jungle. Rage is for those who nurture and water the unloved bits of themselves way more than they need to.

I am thankful and proportionately blessed. I wish wisdom upon those souls who forgets easily that everything on this Earth is rented – even the bodies, we live in today. But our legacies have a life of their own and I choose tolerance and compassion. I live it.

– Rupika Moitra


The seed of self keeps losing itself,

The plant keeps finding itself afixed at a crossroads,

The seed was thirsty, after being planted in the garden.

It was watered with care for the first week, maybe two,

Then expected to flower which it couldn’t bear.

The plant grew up always looking for those that could appreciate,

But, without it,

It did survived,

Possessions of Earth were suffice,


It can quench thirst of others with fruits,

Lucky for it,

It lives in the present,

It can’t choose to hold onto its grievances,

The mind of man holds pots of it,

It expects too much,

Maybe the answer is in giving away,

Not wasting away in worry of how to receive,

But the mind deceives,

The mind might learn someday from the plant,

To give away your fruits freely,

The gifts of smile and kindness,

Until, there is no more to give

And no more desire to take,

What is your will be yours forever,

The earth’s nurtures abundantly,

May the parts of us that are thirsty, stay quiet,

May the chirping sounds of gives resounds in our souls,

May we let them…..

– Rupika Moitra

Her days are bright

Alone is solace of soul and not lonely,

Her days are bright;

Apart means her rays are clearer

Unblurred and immiscible in other’s shade,

Her contours simultaneously expanding and defined,

Her madness is fervour passion of depths inside,

She walks inside towards surfaces deeper than many mines,

She soars in imaginations to skies higher than blades of planes,

She doesn’t reside where cliche’ does,

She dwells in hearts of rebels,

They know the world is not what it could it,

Empathy is not abundant here on plains,

She chooses the skies,

Let her stay where love is the currency,

Focus and hard work pays,

Kindness is virtue of leaders,

Beauty is only the quality of your soul,

Beauty evolves and resonates,

It’s not mean and it doesn’t crave praise,

A place where vulnerability are openly shown,

They are guides of authentic self, after all,

Abode where perspectives are achieved in many folds,

There refer to many schools of thought,

Let her stay in that place in her mind


Let her be alone and carve the way,

For she can’t stray,

From what she believes, she knows

Alone, maybe at each step,

But, towards the light,

Not cramped inside trivial boxes of little minds,

When you see her down the road,

She can still smile,

Her days are still bright…..

Tapestry of love


multi colored laces
Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

This tapestry of love is mystical,

Sews of sensitivity shines out in yellows,

Butterflies in plum thread are the moments of passion,

Reds are burnt from flames of separation,

Somber blues- the palpable pain, the heart endured,

But, right next are orange flowers sewn,

Gift of creativity that the caves of separation,

Pink waves for countless imagery the mind travelled in,

Green grounds of circles of sharing nothing but silences,

Envelopes the entire mesh

The hollow bits- unsewn,

For the journey still unfolds,

And love takes, still many shapes,

Pass many waves,

Some days – pours,

Some days craves,

I see a lot of yellow and green in my mesh,

Too easily mixed,

And the hollow spaces,

They crave a name,

Translucent, I call them,

They take the colour of the eyes,

When they lit up the sky,

As you walked in again;

Like it was the first time….

Inner God

woman wearing white dress standing outdoor
Photo by Lucas Pezeta on Pexels.com

Inner god shows up some days

love thy neighbour, it says;

Focus on the unloved,

The unaccepted,

The frail ones,

The unaccustomed ones,

Inner god grew as we listen

We gave it power and now feel it’s joy

There’s strong sense of duty,

But it’s not burdensome,

it is you- complete in joy and ready,

Ready to share gifts of luck and strength,


your legacy of kindness

O’ Broken one,

You can Bless and love

Coz you live today

Believe it,

nourish it,

Listen to it,

when it says

It was great luck,

I wasn’t distracted when inner god spoke

Only whispers,

Like smoke of scented candles, it rose;

close up of a defocused
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

And filled the void with warmth and cozy dose,

Are you listening to yours?

Inner god will speak today, again

Will we listen??

Will we be present?

Will we act?


Will it linger?

Will it grow steady and strong?


Will it pass away? 

You decide….



—Rupika Moitra