Ritu Lalit's Blog

My first podcast on Manifestation, in which I talk about Energy, the currency on which this universe runs.

THE SCIENCE OF GETTING RICH is a free download. Click to get your copy

When the heart sings “Tera mujhse hai pehle ka naata koi” one should stop and consider that what kind of naata does my soul have with this person and why ….
My take on soulmates on THE SHIFT

The latest buzzword Aatmanirbhar and my take on it

#podcasts #podcastlife #podcastinglife #podcasters #podcastersofinstagram

As though the virus wasn’t scary enough, news channels and world leaders are going their bit to add to the problem. In this podcast I talk about drinking Lizol and shoving UV torches up the human body.

When men were supposed to know their place and stay out of the kitchen and there was no Swiggy or Zomato

People are working out during the Lockdown. They are also cooking gourmet food. Since I am primarily an observer of life, I’ve started a podcast about what I am observing during the lockdown.

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And after all the suffering
The long nights reliving
Moments of combat
Interspersed with longing
Of the what-it-could-have-been
When you're done with the fake smiles, the crying
comes this thing
To destroy the pretense and aching
Not thru the front door smiling
You have to chase it
To hunt it down
You have to beg for it
To come around
Maybe you need to grab it's throat
Or punch it in the nose
And drag it home
It's so slippery, so elusive
They call it healing

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She often told stories about her family, her past. Once an argument ended when her father seized a lit birthday cake with both hands and hurled it out of the window.

She laughed as she told the story. To her it was normal. Every family had it, you know, angry confrontations, passionate arguments, tears, stamped feet, she explained.

How old were you? I asked.

Thirteen she said. It was my thirteenth birthday.

We fell silent, smoking our Charms cigarettes, sharing a flat coke as we gazed out of the window of our shared room in the hostel.

I thought about the thirteen year old, spending her first teen birthday without a cake.

It was easy to feel sad about that. It was easier to think about a cake hitting the sidewalk, its icing splattered on the road.

Yelling, shoving feet through cabinet doors, flinging raita on the walls is okay, I thought. Too much emotion, that’s all.

I did not want to think about my childhood. About the continuous criticism, the bite marks I had to hide from prying eyes, the punches that landed in my stomach, scalp so sore from hair being yanked hard that I could not comb my hair.

At least you guys loved each other, I told her.

She looked at me strangely.

You think? she said. All my friends witnessed that. I lost my desire to blow out birthday cake candles that day.

I wish my friends had witnessed some of it, I whispered.

We sat together in silent solidarity.

Sometimes, shared sorrow forges bonds that last lifetimes.

Sometimes sharing painful pasts makes us realize that we normalize it to make us believe it wasn’t that bad. Because if we saw the truth we would have to accept it and work through it. And that is even more painful