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#HeAskedFinally

By Saru Singhal - April 01, 2016

For more hashtag stories, stalk me on - Facebook, Twitter and Instagram

TheHashtagStory

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SeenaApril 6, 2016 at 10:26 PM
So cute.. I love it

Cheers,
Seena
#AtoZChallenge- F is for Free Advice
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vishal bheerooApril 7, 2016 at 6:49 AM
haha the story of many of us, duded. How, we don't recognize love close to us!!
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Dipanwita ChakrabortyApril 8, 2016 at 8:51 AM
Finally!
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Kiran AcharyaApril 15, 2016 at 1:29 PM
Sweet story. Love it. :)
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Manisha AwasthiMay 4, 2016 at 4:53 PM
The cutest love story. I live reading your hashtag stories.
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Because paper towels are strong and so am I

By Saru Singhal - November 12, 2018

Wherever I go Everyone offers me some tissue papers A fragile tissue to wipe off my tears And as I frisk into my pockets to pull out a paper towel I tell them Tears, courage, strength - I bring my very own Even a stronger version of tissue paper too

If soul has a door, mine is open for you all-life-long.

By Saru Singhal - November 25, 2018

I won't lie. I've been with men. Some flings. A couple of serious relations. But you...damn you! Who knew I would be on the crossroads? My soul would feel parched from all the heat our bodies produced. I'd slow-moan your name in the middle of the day. I'd scroll and read your WhatsApp messages at 2 in the night. I'd run make-belief scenarios of love-making while commuting to work.

No one would believe it all started with one flimsy kiss on my shoulder. You kissed my collarbone softly. And I felt a wild sensation running through the recesses of my body. Parts I never knew existed trembled. I became alive for the very first time in my life. I closed my eyes to feel you inside me. But then you sniffed the back of my neck. Exhaling-inhaling-exhaling. Your warm breath made Peony fragrant than ever before. Chloe became sexy that day. You continued like that for a minute or 2. I opened my mouth a little. Heaved. Breaths became deep. Shallow-deep-shallow. My mind played tri…

Here's what I learned in 7 years of blogging

By Saru Singhal - June 18, 2018

7 years ago I started my blog. And I entered the magical world of writing. I was living in the Boston suburbs. After finishing my work and household chores, I still had some spare time. I remember the exact moment I clicked the 'B' icon on Google and I created a Blogger account. I knew only two Bloggers that time - Amitabh Bachchan and Lisa Ray. I had no idea what it takes to be an accomplished blogger, but I was excited to be a part of a community which is independent and expresses its views without any inhibition. I must say, it has been an amazing journey only because I have learned so much.

I started by writing poetry, then I started writing articles and now I can write anything. Professionally, I am a content writer for a couple of websites. I ghostwrite for two more agencies based out of North America. I write sponsored articles on my blog. I tweet, post Facebook statutes, answer Quora questions, and mention brands on Instagram for money. Brands even consult me for social…

A home filled with love is never empty

By Saru Singhal - January 09, 2017

A cozy king-size bed for you
An old cot for some
Turf of manicured lawn
Or a shanty in Mumbai's slum

A roof is all we need
Add a few luxuries here and there
Then how big is big enough?
Is squandering a meaningless affair?

Two can live happily in one room
No square feet, no price
Love to wrap yourself in it
Few adjustments and a little sacrifice

Changed nearly a dozen houses
But I treasure the moments we've shared so far
Not the flat screen TV we own
Or the spacious garage for our car

Often on lonely afternoons
The homemaker in me longs
For a tiny nook where I can recreate the good old days
Filled with friends and favorite songs

Though I labor to keep the house spick and span
But it's the mess that makes it complete
Remnants of an evening well spent
With friends, family and treats

A house is empty without happiness
Things only fill up space
An expensive couch can make the living room beautiful
But it can never brighten the gloomy days

Yet collect these things togeth…

Friendship is a one-way street. Once lovers can never be friends.

By Saru Singhal - December 03, 2018

So we are done labelling our relation. I am love to you. You are love to me. Let's end the conversation on this note. Whatever remains after that is pure passion. Something the woman in me craves. Something the man in you enjoys.

We ruined our friendship yesterday. But, oh boy! I still get goosebumps thinking about it. My heart sinks. I feel dry in my mouth. And wet in places where I should. Even now, I can hear your whispers in my ear and can feel your body on mine. I have this uncontrollable urge to sink into your chest, kiss your neck and say - baby, you are mine. I want to savour you. I want to read unfinished poems to you. For one 5-minute kiss, I want to write a 20-thousand word prose. But I don't want to make you a hero. I don't want to give us a happy ending. I don't want to sleep with you every single day. Because if there is a man who can make one night a lifelong memory, you are that man.

I sure have this seething pain to be in your arms, sit with you on a col…

thin waistline and a fat stack of memories

By Saru Singhal - April 24, 2016

it began on the terrace with lousy poetry, cold tea, and playful eyes you unravelled a mystery to my utter surprise

i am not sure how it started
it sure ended on that auburn paisley sheet in-between sweet moaning i felt complete

i dressed up in front of you later
dabbed kohl, tied my hair into a messy bun draped that cotton saree playfully making the pleats one-by-one

then you asked graciously
if you could tuck those pleats in i felt knots and butterflies come alive the moment your fingers touched my skin

you stood behind as i adjusted the pallu
it was a bout of nervousness for me to make a lady uncomfortable with silence was your idiosyncrasy

a million moments i've lived since
moving my fingers on that paisley print like my life, that sheet, and cotton saree are immortally linked

Soundarya Sabun Nirma

By Saru Singhal - January 11, 2016

It was a ruthless day when I discovered my real identity. As a teenager, I struggled through hot girls, rich girls, and famous-for-nothing girls. I often felt like a lost puppy in the crowd of bitches. Amidst the ting-tong of Doordarshan commercial, finally, one day I found answers to all my questions. My ray of enlightenment was none other than - Nirma Soap Ad.

This karmic journey started the day my cousin infused the thought that a soap defines you. He bathed with Dettol as he was a cleanliness freak. And I should choose a soap that fits my character. When I gleefully jumped at being Liril Girl, he looked with disdain. With one hand he pointed at Preity Zinta’s poster and with other towards the mirror. I nodded. I had no dimples or shorts to be that cool. Even the bottom of my skirt was triple folded to adjust my growing height and our middle-class income. On that day of summer vacation, my arduous journey began. If there is a soap that my fits my short-rounded-desperate frame, I sho…

Har Ghar Kuch Kehta Hai...

By Saru Singhal - February 05, 2014

This post won 'The Most Popular Post' prize in 'Great ways to create a beautiful home' contest on Ripplelinks.com, sponsored by Asian Paints.
‘A Home is where a story begins…’
I read it somewhere and it transported me to those innocent childhood days when I played Ghar-Ghar with my friends and cousins. I distinctively remember arranging gas stove, utensils and pretended to cook. Later, I got a Barbie Doll House and I insisted on buying cushions, sheets and showpieces for it. I even cried when one of the trophies I won couldn’t fit in the tiny Doll House. Seriously, playing a perfect host in Tea Parties where I was irked by my friends’ lack of concentration in sipping from empty tea cups, sowed the seeds of a Perfect Homemaker in me. So, when I think of creating a HOME, I splash all my ideas and love to create a space that is BEAUTIFUL.
I take my love for Books, Words and Alphabets very seriously and the first thing I use to decorate my home are books. With books, my ho…

#HeAskedFinally

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