Words

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#HowIMetTheOther

By Saru Singhal - April 15, 2016

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

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Yogi SaraswatMay 11, 2016 at 2:55 AM
Haha ! interesting words !!
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Dreaming Wanderer. www.tonightidream-iwander.blogspot.comMay 15, 2016 at 9:40 AM
haha.. Nice!
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AnonymousMay 15, 2016 at 11:52 AM
Ha ha ! Nice
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Quirky WritesMay 16, 2016 at 8:14 AM
Haha! This was amazing!
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कोशिश...

By Saru Singhal - July 24, 2011

मेरी सपनो को सजाने की हर कोशिश अधूरी रह गयी!
मुझमे और मेरी मंजिल में सिर्फ दो आंसूओ की दूरी रह गयी!!

पहली मुलाकात

By Saru Singhal - November 10, 2011

दोलफ्ज़ोमेंआज, मेरीउनसेबातहुई, प्यारसेपहलीआज,मेरीमुलाक़ातहुई! छलकउठेखाव्हिशोकेपह्माने, लगीमेरीआहेभीशर्माने, जैसेशादीसेपहले,बिधाईकीरातहुई,

She reeks of cheap wine and broken heart

By Saru Singhal - July 16, 2018

There are half-finished texts, She cannot send. There is a boy in the city, Who only wants to be a friend.
There are sensuous pictures, Of him circling her thin waistline. The sound of sweet nothings crystal clear, Though she is often drunk on wine.
There is not 1, not 2, But countless episodes of unbuttoned shirts. Heat seething in their bodies, Frenzy too wild to put in words.
There is 2 am, There is 5 pm love-making too. There is enough to call them lovers, Between these 2.
It ought to be a poem, About naked lovers and wrinkled bed sheets. Not a melancholic prose, Of lovers fighting on streets.
O' how she has changed? From Chanel No. 5 to cheap wine. She even reeks of a broken heart, Though she claims to be fine.
Nobody knows what went wrong? Not even they. But we all know, It's not okay.
Love is a one-way street, Once lovers can never be friends. You never plant the dead flowers, It has to end.
She reeks of cheap wine and broken heart, now all-day-long. When the only way to mend everything, Is by being stro…

I’m the girl even your friends won’t approve

By Saru Singhal - January 01, 2018

I burn your soul,
I light that kind of fire.
My words slit innocence into half,
I demand that much desire.

I ruin your days,
Your nights are no longer yours.
Love tastes like brandy-poison mix,
It is not pure.

You reek of desperation,
Your blood boils often.
You write letters with blood,
Only to bury them in an empty coffin.

Neither your body,
Nor your mind makes sense.
I treat you as a lover,
But I call you a friend.

When you grab me by my waist,
I stare into your eyes.
I’m your salvation,
The woman who can listen to your silent cries.

I leave you half-thirsty,
I’m that unfinished prose,
You hate the idea of love now,
You look for yourself on empty roads.

Still you want a lifetime with me?
Because you like the taste of fire.
I may not be a perfect girl,
I’m the only one you admire.

It’s too late now,
I seep into bones fast.
Don’t regret falling in love with me,
Don’t ever call me your past.

Your friends hate me,
You fight for me too.
You declare us soulmates,
Knowing too well that’s…

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…

We need Facebook likes. Your post gets only 10.

By Saru Singhal - March 27, 2017

Let me begin by saying to all those who seek numbers - Number Game is a big business and only a few understand it. When a post gets hundreds of likes on Facebook, it's a combination of - friend count, time of posting, interaction level, and ease of reading. Hence pictures get more likes than words. So, don't judge a post on the basis of 'like count,' check its quality. Now let me go a step ahead and tell you the business aspect of it - Facebook and Instagram don't allow your post to reach all your followers. As a Facebook Page owner, my post reaches only 2-5% on good days. And as someone who has changed her Instagram to a business profile, my post reaches only 20-25%. Both these platforms prompt me to 'promote' my posts. They are in a business. They want profiles like mine to spend money before we even make a dollar on it. So, next time you see a profile with 1000s of likes with unmatched follower count, take it from me - something is fishy. In fact, Instagr…

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…

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…

#HowIMetTheOther

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