Dear Zindagi (2016) Review (A Hindi Feature Film)

Dear Zindagi (Which literally means ‘dear life’) is a heartwarming story of a young cinematographer, in her early twenties, facing conflicts in her love life and familial life. Troubled by Insomnia, she seeks out a therapist in her hometown of Goa, India. As the sessions proceed, the character of the female lead, Kaira develops in various aspects of her life, which is incredible to notice.

Kaira, the protagonist, played by the very talented young lady, Alia Bhatt is a character with whom most of the people her age can relate. Watching her grow gives hope to many alike.

Kaira’s playful chemistry with Jug/The therapist, played by Shahrukh Khan is very interesting to witness and something to really look forward to.

The film focuses on delivering the story with the perfect amount of emotions and songs, unlike many other bollywood movies.

The film contains many beautiful, heart touching scenes that make not only the characters, but also the audience shed a few tears.

The application of psychodynamic approach for treatment of psychological distresses has been portrayed in an artistic yet professional manner.

I would definitely recommend this movie to anyone wishing to watch a meaningful movie with a hot cup of coffee on a warm winter afternoon.

Movie – Dear Zindagi (2016)

Director – Gauri Shinde

Producer – Gauri Khan, Gauri Shinde, Karan Johar, R. Balki

Actors – Alia Bhatt, Shahrukh Khan, Yashaswini Dayama, Ira Dubey, Kunal Kapoor, Ali Zafar, etc.

Watch here – Dear Zindagi – Netflix

What is self love?

What is self love?

I like to believe that the definition of self love is different for everyone.

Maybe for someone, it is taking out time for yourself to sit and relax in a bath after a long day at work. For another person it might be looking in the mirror, smiling and telling her/his reflection that s/he’s so proud of her/him and that s/he loves her/him. Also for one, it might be rewarding her/himself with a delicious meal at a fancy restaurant because you gotta love yourself and you gotta treat yourself, baby.

Self love is so important and it’s sad how people don’t talk enough about it. I mean, we have got thousands of songs of love for the ‘baes’ and ‘boos’ but not nearly enough for ‘me’, ‘the self’.

People spend their lives looking for love in the world and neglect the fact that what they really need to look for might actually be a way to love themselves.

When we are kids, although not aware of the concept of self love, we treat ourselves pretty well, I would say. I see my little sister walking around with a self-made tiara on her head and calling herself a princess. The way she looks in the mirror and smiles at herself, self love oozes out of her and becomes quite visible.

As we are growing up, we should probably take a lesson or two from these kids and start calling ourselves kings and queens because who has any right to stop us from treating ourselves all fancy? Is there a law? Nope. Don’t think so.

Self love is not just about treating ourselves with things and titles though, it’s also about the feeling.

The feeling of going to sleep being grateful for what a wonderful human you’re turning into.

The feeling of your heart being full because you are just so happy for yourself.

The feeling of happiness when someone compliments you and you happily accept that instead of believing that the world is lying, instead, you believe them.

The feeling of accepting the fact that you are a good human and if you believe in something, you can make it happen.

The feeling of being satisfied with yourself.

The feeling of accepting your wonderful self as you are.

The feeling of, well, love for yourself.

Once you are completely in love with yourself, it becomes easier to love another muggle.

When self-love is present, you make better decisions because you think about how it might affect you and your happiness, and it goes a long way.

You gotta take care of yourself, fellow human. You are so wonderful and unique, you gotta embrace yourself. You gotta do all this because YOU’re the only one who is going to be there until the very end, no one else is going to! Now that says something. So, please, love yourself. It’s a beautiful thing to do.

The Bicycle Tales

As a kid, I used to love cycling. It was one of my favorite hobbies. My house was located in a very peaceful area. Minimal cars, even fewer people. The roads were almost always empty. I would spend most of my summer afternoons riding around on my bike.

The world seemed so peaceful during those hours, allowing me to enjoy the sweet summer breeze and having no one to trouble me.

I used to pretend that I was an explorer and every time I took out my bike, I geared up myself for a new adventure.

I believe that I have a very imaginative mind, you see. So, each time the same roads appeared to me as beautiful, different lands. *sigh* I wish I never had to leave.

But, when I was 12, my family and I moved to a sub-city, which had tall building structures, small apartment complexes and very busy and noisy roads. My freedom to roam alone on my bike through my imaginary magnificent lands vanished. After a while, the busy city life consumed me.

I got busy adjusting to my teenage self, occupied myself with school and forgot all about my summer afternoon adventures.

Yesterday evening, something reminded me of those summer days and it kind of made me sad that I hadn’t thought about those happy moments in such a long time. Instead of feeling sorry for myself,

I decided to leave whatever work I was doing and go outside and ride a bicycle. I put on my favorite sports shoes, held my phone and earplugs in one hand, a water bottle in another and walked outside with my father’s old bike.

The air was warm and light wind was blowing. The sun had set about an hour earlier and the sky was painted in various shades of blue and purple. The music was blaring through my earplugs and I already felt wonderful.

The moment I started pedaling, the warm air hit my face and all the memories came rushing back and it made me smile. In that moment I was SO happy and wished I could’ve done this more often in past few years. The music, the sky, the weather and of course my bike seemed like the most magical things in the world.

I rode around lip syncing to my favorite songs and enjoyed myself, plus I got a workout. People must have thought I was crazy but I couldn’t care less because in those moments, I could only see the sky, feel the wind blowing against my skin, hear the music and enjoy the ride. I couldn’t care less because I was happy.


Diwali: A festival of pollution.

Diwali, the festival of lights is one of the most awaited, most beautiful, most important  festival out of all the festivals of India. People dress up in beautiful new clothes, exchange gifts, give blessings, eat sweets and other yummy dishes, create beautiful rangolis, decorate their homes, light up their homes with diyas and even LED lights. Also, people burst firecrackers, which apparently is the most important part about celebrating Diwali in a proper manner.


Why? Why has it become so important to burst harmful bombs instead of sitting with your family and having a good time? Let’s discuss everything from the beginning.


So, in northern India, Diwali is celebrated because during this certain period, very long ago, King Ram returned to Ayodhya (read the full story on after defeating the bad ol’ Ravana. People lit the way for him using clay lamps since it was a moonless night. People celebrated his return with utmost happiness, exchanged gifts, sweets, lit up their houses in honor of their King Ram. It was a huge celebration and since that time, every year, Diwali was celebrated with joy. There are other believed origins of Diwali too, but every origin mentions the victory of good over evil and huge celebrations.


This is the concept of Diwali, which has obviously changed over the years. New ways were found to celebrate Diwali. One of them was, fireworks. I wasn’t there when it started (obvio) but I’m pretty sure that the first time they burst crackers on Diwali, the sky might have looked beautiful, I can imagine that because these fireworks have become an integral part of Diwali.


Look, now I’m all up for lightening up the sky with beautiful fireworks but what people don’t understand is that there should be a limit. And, people have been crossing that limit for years now and there have been consequences. An example of that was noted last year, when the day after Diwali, nothing was visible. The news reported that the pollution level of Delhi (which already remains pretty high) had reached its peak and the air was poisonous to breath in. Delhi was rated as the most polluted city that day. I remember having school cancelled for days and my parents forbidding me leave the house. I heard that many, many people fell sick (old people and small children especially)


This year, I expected that obviously, after what happend last year, people might have learnt a lesson, right? No. A few days ago, the supreme court banned the sale of fireworks but it was too late. Most people had already bought their goods and then there’s black market.


Last night, when everyone outside was having ‘fun’, bursting useless bombs outside, I was just sitting in my room, hating the world for being so disregarding, wondering, why do these people like these sorts of things when they can be enjoying and celebrating in other harmless ways?


In U.S.A., on 4th of July, there is a show of fireworks, which happens during nighttime. The sky looks beautiful. Not all people get involved in the bursting process and just enjoy the view. I wish I could do that. But honestly, It’s not enjoyable anymore because the sky fireworks are less and the stupid loud bombs are more in number (nonetheless, both cause so much of pollution).


There’s this special bomb which has like 1000 little bombs attached to it. Once you fire it up, it starts bursting and keeps bursting till like 20 minutes or something. Imagine that loud obnoxious sound,not for just 20 minutes, but for 8-9 hours.


Why do people enjoy bursting these bombs which make so much noise? I can’t think of logical reasons.


An author responded to the Supreme Court ban by saying that they can’t ban the fireworks because it’s a tradition which has been going on for years and years. Well, tell me one thing, how can one respect a ‘tradition’ which causes so much noise pollution, air pollution, diseases and even deaths? How can one follow a tradition which might not even allow them to see another year ?


This morning (the morning after diwali) I woke up and looked through the window and saw heavy smoke covering the buildings. Also, I heard a few loud ‘BOOM’s. Apparently, It’s fun for people to hear the loud obnoxious noises. It’s not beautiful. It’s sad. Apparently, the good news is that the air quality isn’t as severe as it was last year. But since the pollution level is higher than it should be, is it really a good news?


The air smells entirely of smoke and I can’t stop coughing. Why does it have to be this way? I feel so bad for the birds outside. They did nothing wrong and still, they have to suffer, because the humans wanted to follow their ‘tradition’.


Why have people forgotten the values of Diwali? Why do people hate these consequences but don’t regret that they caused it? What is the world coming down to?


I feel really sad today. I wonder, when will people realize what truly causes happiness and what doesn’t.


These last two Diwalis have been a disaster for me and many others. I can only hope that the next year would be better and that some magical thing will make people regret their actions and that the next Diwali would be a peaceful one.

The Time When I Almost Burned Down My House.


A few days back, my sister and I (she is 9 right now and I’m 16) were talking about when she was a baby and I was a crazy wild kid. That’s when this story about how I ‘almost’ burned down my house came back to my mind.

I have been collecting stories from my life and putting them in a list of things on my phone so that I can tell them to the world one day like ‘The Gabbie Show’ or ‘Tana Mongeau’ do. But, I realised, I may never be able to make a youtube channel and make videos for it, so why not write them on my blog (which noone will ever read hahaha)? So, well, here it is.

I was around 8-9 years old and my little sister would have been 2-3 years old. We were living in an apartment with 3 rooms and one of them was our ‘temple room’. All the little statues of gods and other spiritual kinds of things were kept in that room, also known as the praying room.

My mum was sleeping in the bedroom and my sister and I were in the temple room, playing with our barbie dolls and stuff. Soon, I was bored of dolls and wished to do something thrilling. I had recently learned how to light a matchstick and I obviously i wanted to practice my skill, so I took out a candle from a wooden cabinet, put the candle on the mattress (which was kept on the floor, covered with a bed sheet) and lit the candle perfectly. Also, remember, the candle was kept on cotton bed sheet without a candle holder (they hadn’t given us ‘fire safety’ workshops at school *shrug*)

I considered myself as a very smart and entertaining kid, also, my baby sister was amused by anything and everything I did, so, I did little tricks to amuse my sister because I used to love how she would laugh at all my silly actions (now she doesn’t laugh, just rolls her eyes and shuts the door to show me how annoyed she is *huff*).

Soon, I was bored and hungry (still am. Some things never change, right? haha), so I took her to where my mother was sleeping. Oh, and yeah, I left the candle burning. Without a candle holder. On a cotton bed sheet. Yehhhp.

After about 10 minutes, my mother asked me, “do you smell that? I think something’s burning”. Yep, you thought right mum, something was burning and it was because of your devilish daughter. At that moment, when I realised what I had done, I literally thought that my parents were going to disown me for burning their house and that I would have to beg for money on the streets. But, thank god my parents don’t believe in disowning their child, every time she makes a mistake *phew*.

I told my mum that I forgot to blow off the candle. Then, my mum rushed to temple room and I followed, to see what had I cooked. The mattress and the red bed sheet were in flames, the curtains and the cushions were burning. A few books had burnt and the wooden cabinets were heating up, about to start burning up.

The fire was so big! I remember being so terrified that I couldn’t even utter a word, let alone apologise for my act. The fire from the pretty white curtains was about to reach the electric wires. That’s when my mum came to the rescue. She started filling up buckets and pouring the water on the fire. She stopped the fire in about 8-9 minutes without wasting a second. My mum came to the rescue at the right moment and saved us all from becoming hot meat.

Obviously, my parents scolded me for being such a little punk, playing with fire with no adults around, and that too, with a baby sitting next to me. I was traumatized for many days, but eventually, I came back to being the crazy little kid I was.

I don’t think I have ever struck a match without adults in the room ever since. I don’t think I ever will. I don’t trust myself with fire anymore.

Did you like this story? And would you like to hear more of my dramatic, crazy little childhood stories? Let me know in the comments. Also, have you ever had a crazy incident like this one? Let me know down below.

I hope that reading this story wasn’t a waste of time and that it entertained you. I hope you have a great day ahead!