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Swoo May 2022
My sun in human form! I come alive everytime theres a sighting of you.
Everything else shutters in absence  and its Jupiters arora blue aura glowing on me. Nothing pops out like you do. You posses that ting that lights up any room. Ahh sweet home. Jupiters aurora blue aura - Swoo
judy smith Nov 2015
In June this year, designer Masaba Gupta and film producer Madhu Mantena had the quietest of civil ceremonies. It was only when she took to Twitter the next day to talk about the court registry that most people heard of it. It was a move most unorthodox, for a leading fashion designer, especially one who counts several Bollywood actors among her close friends.

At the time, she also announced “a Caribbean wedding in November”.

The destination wedding isn’t happening. But that’s not to deprive us of a grand, four-day affair, the sort that has the most coveted guest list, and is followed with the keenest interest. It will start on November 19, with the bridal showers, will continue with the mehendi on November 20, the sangeet on November 21 and a gala reception on Sunday, (November 22). Expect the works, and guest lists that boast of Bollywood A-listers (Shahid and Mira Kapoor, and Sonam Kapoor are close friends, just so you know).

In short, it sounds like any other grand Indian celebrity wedding. Except, this is Masaba Gupta we’re talking about. As we catch up with her, we get the sense that she’s approached the whole thing with the same minimalism and quirkiness with which she approaches fashion. “A lot of people are invited,” she tells us, “But I’m not going around and talking about my wedding designer or my lipstick, so on and so forth.”

Unlike most Indian brides, she’s not even fretting over the big day, or days, as it were. “When I was growing up, I always saw brides around me under tremendous stress. The pressure to dress a certain way, wear a certain amount of jewellery and make-up... I saw how uncomfortable it was. So I decided that, if I do get married, I’ll be someone who puts comfort first, and then looks at her options for cut, colour, embroidery or jewellery,” says Gupta.

So, in case you do find yourself invited (otherwise, there’s always Instagram), don’t be surprised to see the most relaxed bride, dressed so comfortably that she’d be the envy of any married Indian woman. The idea, she says, is that a bride should “dress in a way that she can interact with people and have a good time herself.”

She’s also taken charge of the whole thing, and planned a non-fussy, non-extravagant celebration. “For me, three vacations is more value-for-money than a mandap with diamonds on it.”

True to her word, for her sangeet and reception, Gupta is ditching the norm of heavily designed lehengas and saris. “I didn’t go into that heavy, couture, bridal space. And I’m the kind of designer who wears works of other designers,” she says. So, her trousseau will have outfits by several other leading designers. “There are a few people who are great at doing certain things. Anamika [Khanna] is great at reception outfits. I can do a cool, quirky mehendi outfit. For a sangeet, somebody more in the Manish Arora or Shivan and Narresh kind of space,” she says.

The designer who’s always stood apart also seems keen to set an example. By not conforming to rules, Gupta wants to make a point. “I do want it to be about comfort, but I also want to change things up a bit. I want to set an example and say that you don’t need to wear a certain colour, a certain type of maang tika; your hair doesn’t have to look a particular way,” says the young designer.

Ask her if this is the (unconventional) dream wedding come true, and she laughs. “I never had a dream wedding. I’ve never visualised anything except clothes. Certainly not an elaborate wedding setup. See, I just don’t want to starve at my wedding. So, my dream wedding is one where I get to eat a meal while everyone else enjoys themselves as well.”

Masaba’s five-point guide to a chilled-out wedding

1) Get people to help out. If you try and look at every detail, you’re going to have a hard time. You may have a great input, but get people to do it for you.

2)People think you should shop for jewellery and clothes much in advance, but I think it should be done as close to the wedding as possible. You’ll have the latest stuff, and your taste might change over time. It’s best done around the wedding, so you don’t regret what you’ve bought.

3) Shoes are important. Make sure you’re in comfortable heels or flats, so you can survive the night.

4) Always test the make-up artist. Don’t just do a demo and leave it; test it through the day. See how the make-up behaves over a few hours, then you’ll know what it will actually be like, because it takes a couple of hours for make-up to set.

5) Receptions should start becoming more informal. You shouldn’t have to have the couple on stage smiling through the evening. I’ve heard of brides getting locked jaws. It’s absolute torture.

How to be the unconventional groom

• Fusion looks work well. If you’re wearing a Jodhpuri or a bandhgala, team it up with Jodhpuri pants. For men who are slimmer, suits do wonders.

• If you wish to be quirky and know you can carry it off, team dhoti pants and a shirt with a really formal blazer and a brooch.


• I love the cropped, ankle-length formal pants men are wearing now. It’s great for a reception.

• You don’t need to wear laced up shoes. Wear a nice slip-on in patent leather or a printed pair of shoes that stand out. So, you can make the whole look black and white, and have a nice pop shoe and make that the focus.

• Don’t be afraid of colours at your wedding. Get over navy blue, black or maroon. On a darker man, a haldi yellow kurta will look fantastic when teamed with an off-white or cream churidar. Even a soft pink in raw silk — it has a silver-pink shine — looks lovely.

How to be the ‘in vogue’ bride

• We’re seeing a lot of shapewear backs. Instead of the flared lehenga, women are opting for the fishtail cuts. Girls are also wearing shararas with big flares that almost look like a lehenga.

• Brides are going minimal. Go for less embellishment, and lighter lehengas.

• The dupatta is being ditched. Either that, or it’s attached. Much easier to handle.

• The choli is becoming more modest. People are wearing longer lengths, which are more fitted; the ‘60s style kurtas with shararas are also in. There’s more focus on the body and shape.

• I’m hoping the anarkali has died. It’s the worst of the lot. And it’s not very flattering. If you’re very skinny and tall, it works for you. If you’re short, you look like you’re lost in your outfit.

• Ditch the trail. At the end of the night, it’s a rag. It’s been stepped on and is *****.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/mermaid-trumpet-formal-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/cheap-formal-dresses
Àŧùl Jun 2017
A* girl who is hoping to be with me,
Theming all her poetry around me,
Unable I am to reflect her feelings,
Lose I did myself in my past lover.

Love her I did that bit too much,
Of her decisions I was an abider,
Vainly are all the sacrifices I made,
Except only when unavoidable,
Did I ever ignore her? I did not.

Killed me she with her love and deceit,
Remain just the memories of her,
I let my mind linger in past,
Pleasured I am by her memories,
I just cannot once again take chances.

And I will just live with her memories,
Not that I consider myself so worse,
Desist I will from marriage all my life.

I am so scared of loving anyone else,
Slowly I watch my days running out.

Now I will never be uncertain,
Of course I would be sans fear,
What scares me would be past.

Scientist I want to become for real,
Concentrate I will more on career,
And her memories won't plague,
Romance I will with myself more,
Elephantine will be my happiness,
Dress rehearsals I do for success.

Old memories will not haunt me,
Finally I'll be one with happiness.

Last desire of my heart,
Of course won't be fullfilled,
Very sure because I am lonely,
E**njoy I'll this eternal loneliness.
I am sorry Kalpana, I can't ever move on.
Neither with you nor anyone else.

My HP Poem #1586
©Atul Kaushal
Aastha Arora Feb 2018
Amongst alien places and alien faces,
Where familiarity had no traces,
In the scorching sun, still feeling cold,
Falling down and having nobody to hold,
My fears untold ,I had a fake smile,
I secretly shed a tear , every once in a while,
I longed to be independent of those chains of misery,
Little did I know , that was my key to be free,
My key to step out of my cocoon,
My chance to touch the stars and the moon,
My chance to start a brand new tale,
I had no one to judge me even when I fail,
I failed and I failed but I knew I would sail,
You won't feel pleasure if you haven't seen pain,
Trust me , the struggle never goes in vain,
I met the kind of people, I didn't even know exist,
I felt good about the opportunities I hadn't missed,
I thought I had a terrible life , but I was wrong,
The struggle stays for a bit , but the pleasure period is long,
I looked back , from where I started,
From where me and my comfort parted,
And the transformation in me brought tears in my eyes,
I had finally achieved victory, the new me, was my prize ,
It was the best feeling I had ever felt ,
I went to my Mom and down I knelt,
I thanked her for sending me away,
And I thanked her again, everyday.
-Aastha Arora
Here's to all those students like me who are so terribly attached to their family  that even the thought of leaving home sounds like a nightmare. I hope this gives you confidence (:
judy smith Aug 2016
Aneeth Arora refers to herself as a ‘textile and dress maker’ rather than a fashion designer. That’s because she makes her own fabrics, a process she enjoys, and says that if it’s only designing, then there is not much left to it other than giving shape to the fabric. Aneeth will be showcasing her collection in the city at an exhibition titled Nayaab, which features creations by 12 handpicked designers, who work with craftsmen to produce intricate garments.

Aneeth’s collection is entirely in off-white with gold and silver details. She’s transformed luxurious brocade and wispy Chanderis into shimmery jackets, summer dresses, flowy maxis and tunics, smart scarves, skirts of varying lengths and long kurtis. Adding a dash of colour to the display is the capsule featuring clothes with hand embroidery and beads. Her trademark anti-fits find their place here. The collection is laidback, with a few elements of androgyny and some downright girly.

A part of what’s on display here was showcased at the Amazon India Fashion Week Spring Summer 2016, where she put together the famous pyjama party with sleeping bags and models in comfortably trendy shorts and dresses.

For Nayaab, she’s also specially created a few outfits that are not available at the stores.

Pero, which started in 2009 with one tailor and one runner out of Aneeth’s house in Delhi, now has 80 people working out of a bigger space. “If you count the weavers I work with, the number is far more,” she says.

Right from the beginning, the 32-year-old has worked with handlooms from all over India. For example, the block prints are done with weavers in Gujarat and Rajasthan, ikat is done in the South and the woollens are from Himachal… “We are inclined to anything that’s handmade,” she says. This includes Mexican braids, lace from Europe and crochet from Afghanistan.

The last decade has seen a revival in handloom, with more designers incorporating them in their designs. This has, in turn, brought about a change in the buying pattern of clients.

“There was a point when weavers didn’t see a future in what they were doing and sent their children to work with construction companies. Now, they know there is a market for weaves and they are confident. Their families are getting involved in it again. It’s all going uphill from here,” says Aneeth, contented.Read more at:www.marieaustralia.com/purple-formal-dresses | http://www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses
Stanley Wilkin  Aug 2017
HYPATIA
Stanley Wilkin Aug 2017
They attacked her in mid exploration
Cutting away her golden thoughts
As they cut away her flesh, destroying
A mind that they couldn’t destroy in
Debate, a sparkling old woman
Whose thoughts were spun from steel.

The screaming mob desecrated her tiny form
Dragging it into the dust, through the *******
And ****. Tearing off her clothes
The Parabalani exposed her to celestial winds crossing
The arora, rubbing
Spoilt Alexandrian soil into her unexplored ******.  
She did not die as a philosopher, calculating and
Learning, but, torn apart, the old woman
Screamed out for her father,
Terrified, in sacrificial pain so much worse
Than beheadings and crucifixion. Her modesty,
Kept for 60 years, mutilated by a 1000 killers in a single
Minute.

Her head bounced in the forum,
Her arms thrown to the 4 corners,
Her soul stamped into the gutter,
As the new religion cried out for tolerance.
In a morning thinking became forbidden
Books burnt, laughs ignored and fires built for heretics.
Hypatia was a female philosopher in Alexandria in the 4th century who was torn apart by a Christian mob, her skin scraped from her bones.
Àŧùl Jul 2017
https://www.amazon.in/gp/aw/review/B00MYY0DMA/
By Kalpana Arora on 9 June 2017
Verified Purchase
It deserves more than 5 stars!
The story ends with two messages perfectly conveyed.
1. Don't waste your time in search of love while you are studying.
2. The current caste-based reservation system in India is flawed.

I can't disagree here.

What a magician Atul is! Such romance, poetry, love, heartbreak, action and what not!

Surely a class apart than most popular novelists!
Thanks for the compliments, dear Kalpana Arora.
Delilah Summers Nov 2015
Sometimes, when love grows,
it does not run wild, like haphazard branches
of a tree you wanted to stand beside.

It does not unravel like a birthday present,
hidden deep under layers of suspense,
and adventure.

It does not swirl around the world like a rainbow,
celebrating first touches, accidental eye contacts,
and naked phone calls.

Sometimes, when love grows,
it grows like the lines of a poem which once marked
tombstones around your heart.

It sticks like a fresh bruise under your feet,
and makes you want to run,
behind butterflies and stars.

It grows like a seed in your throat,
every-time you gulp, it scalps a little skin,
and heart.

Sometimes, when love grows,
it outgrows you.

– Mayank Arora

II. Sometimes, love dies.

Sometimes, love dies like the falling autumn leaves
That swirl in a storm
And before you know it, the summer is over.

Sometimes, love dies like the ever widening spaces in midnight phone conversations,
Just like the crackle over the line swallows your soul,
Love swallows you whole.

It’s musty rankness creeps up on you in the middle of your third dance,
When your lipstick begins to fade and the cocktail has gone stale.
Love fails.

Sometimes love reeks of broken dreams
And heaving, bruised promises.
It stinks of the clamor for survival against all odds. Though it boasts of battle sores,
Sometimes, love loses the war.

Sometimes love dies,
Fading away faster than the colours of the polaroid
That made love grow in the first place.
Sometimes, love renders lovers faceless.

Sometimes, when love dies,
It ends the lies,
Just so you can live a little.
Pragya GAur  Jul 2017
school life
Pragya GAur Jul 2017
A home away from home,
Is how I merily define a school.
Running in silent corridors,
Not wanting to go in morning assemblies,
Finishing lunch while teacher's teaching,
Passing chits when they caught us gossiping.
Our tiffin boxes were empty before recess,
Fun was snatching other's lunch then.
Years later don't know will these be remembered or not,
But those 'samosas of canteen' will really be missed a lot.
When teachers said " go out if you don't want to study"
We looked at each other to ask if they are ready.
We will really miss kabaddi and volley ball matches,
Between seniors and juniors.
Those lovely days of early ages,
And the open books with curly pages.
I will really miss each and every class,
Whether nursery or twelfth.
We will really miss,
The boring exercise of Saturdays,
And the 'Arora patties' on roadways.
We were sent to gain knowledge,
But we had all sorts of fun and games.
To teachers sending us out of class was a punishment,
But for us it was full source of entertainment.
Those lazy mornings and the lame reasons for not going to school,
Those fading school uniforms and opened shoe laces,
Those half opened eyes and closing school gates.
Few months later all won't be there.
Just a cherished memory,
Is going to become.
Few months later it's an end of my school life....so I decided to write one describing my glorious 12 years there
DElizabeth Feb 2022
i dreamt i was protected
by an angel

a dark angel
who loved me

was i actually protected?
was i truly loved?

the soft yet crisp snow
beneath my boots,
cooling the earth's surface.

the violet, black, and indigo night sky
glowing with scattered
twinkling stars
like confetti.

muted, hazy gray clouds
stretched across the sky
in strips
like the arora borealis.

i can see my breath
when i exhale,
the warmth
proof i am still here...
if i am still here
i'm still supposed to be.

the moon shining so bright,
the brisk winter sky,
the endless woods,
my endless night
is calling me home...
it's calling me home . . .

— The End —