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#HappyMothersDay

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I Want To Take My Blog To The Next Level - #Blogchatter

I was tagged by Navnish  to write this post.

If someone asked, whether you wanted to take your blog to the next level, how much would you ponder, before jumping in, and saying yes ?

Umm...

3 seconds !

Too much?

Yeah, may be!

For most of us, blogging is just passion more than anything else. The natural instinct and urge to , express and share our views trumps everything. 

What may or may not follow, be it, money or followers or fame, is all secondary. 

So a chance to enhance that experience, mutually for the creator and the observer, is one to jump on to !

When #blogchatter floated the idea of elevating the blog to the next level, my first thought was to do something different. In 7 years, I have experimented with language and genre of writing, and I would continue to do so. 

But this time, I decided to have my first #videoblog ! It was a spontaneous decision to record this video and I did that without a written script :). 

In the video, I talk about where I have reached and where I want to be. I recognize the areas where I need improvement and, also, my road map to my goals. I am confident that there would be many like me, with same issues and aspirations.

I hope my stress on evolution, definition of 'next level' and significance of collaboration, appeals to all.

Let's join hands! 

I wish all my fellow #bloggers, good luck and offer unconditional help to anyone who needs it :).

I now tag Neha to write his take on the topic.

I want to take my blog to the next level with Blogchatter. 

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#Photoblog: The Story of Our Wedding...

A Wedding is the celebration of a lifetime to commemorate the beginning of a lifelong journey called Marriage!

Whether marriages are made in heaven or not, is up to interpretation, but I can assure you, Weddings, especially, North-Indian weddings, are made in photo studios!

And I am not complaining :)

Thanks to the craze of sharing photos on social media, especially Instagram, wedding photography has taken a quantum leap in the last 5 years. The photographers of today are not only helping couples treasure their most cherished day but are also helping them create moments that are a reflection of their creative geniuses.

But the best memories are not created by the lens but by those who are covered by the lens.

My wife and I, are forever indebted to our families and friends who took the time to make it to our wedding and make it a memorable occasion. This post is dedicated to, and is my way to thank, all of them.

For my online family, let's relive those magical days which made us feel like the real Rajasthan Royals :).



Engagement !

Here I am! I got my swag on and so does my team! :D

Let's go !

Rang de tu mohe "gerua" !

Rings of Fortune !

Grandparents' Blessings !

And the most important question of all !

"Honey! Are you sure? You still have one more day to decide !"



Wedding Day

And so it begins :)

OK! Drying Mehandi, is not my most manliest of moments :D

But let's embrace it with smiles :)

My younger sister gets the joke, now !

निर्विघ्नं कुरु में देव 

Accessorizing :)

Wedding party all set to go!

I won't caption this :)

No wedding is fun till friends show up! But you know, har ek friend______hota hai! Dancing on "tujhe ghodi kinne chadaya___" :-/

My bachcha getting the swag on :)

Azeem-o-Shehanshah ;)

Once again, my friends were the life of this wedding :)

In the meantime, the bride was still posing.....

Until....

"More poses? Talk to the hand , Mr. Photographer!" 

 "Let's do this thing!"

It's a bird! It's a plane. It's a Groom !

Our Parents :)

That moment, which defines the essence of a Jaipur wedding!

Ever Mine. Ever Thine. Ever Ours.

And if you had any doubts about who would call shots in our home, I present to you....

Reception !

Bachcha Party ! :)

There's a story behind these 'two' boxes. Remember, har ek dost____hota hai ;) !

They wondered how did she say yes to me....

...........and I kind of agreed (not that I am ever going to ask the question ;) ) 

Sincerely Yours,

Mrs. and Mr. Prateek Mathur :)

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Writefully Yours

Like the Sunrise, some things are bound to happen!
Pic Courtesy - But.The.Words.Prevailed 

We are changing.

Nah...

We are transitioning !

After more than 6 years with 'Me and My Dark Side' , I have decided to move on.

The blog will now be called 'Writefully Yours'.  

You can connect with us on Twitter, Facebook, Google Plus, Prose, Facebook and Instagram.

The links can be found at the end of this post also.

Why?

Quite simply, it is the time to evolve, or at least, try to! One's work shall be a reflection of the evolution of self, the society and its sensibilities. From a while now, I had been feeling, that the brand of Dark Side and the body of my previous works, were limiting the topics and genres I could cover. Joining Twitter was somewhat liberating, as I could express myself with more freedom (while getting into occasional squabbles), but the old school writer in me couldn't be satisfied in just 140 characters!

Why is re-branding important?

As I said, I am Old School. I strongly believe that a blog shall remain true to its soul. While that might limit the spectrum of content on it, it stays true to it's reader base. I have always felt that I am being dishonest to my reader if, just for the lure of "hits", I cater them sub-par content or cover genres that aren't my natural calling.

Natural Calling

The concept of what is one's natural calling, is the essence of  the evolution of a writer. It's time for me to be more inclusive. I might succeed or might turn into a spectacular failure, but after 7 years of dedicated writing, I owe myself this chance.

This sort of transition is not the first for me. I transitioned, rather successfully, from Politically Incorrect, in 2010. At that time, however, I started a new blog altogether. But this time, it's the re-branding of the same blog.

What to expect...

• Wider range of topics
• More collaboration
• At least for this year, some Politically Incorrect, posts again
• Call for Guest Bloggers
• Campaigns

What not to expect

• Sponsored posts
• Advertisements
• Posts on senseless prompts and contests

'Me and My Dark Side' gave me the recognition, reader base and a great network of  kind and superb bloggers. We support and encourage each other across the barriers of age, gender, outlook, genres and language, just for the sheer love of  Writing. In the past year or so, I have been lucky and proud to be associated with one such group on twitter,@blogchatter. The mercurial rise of the group and their tenacity to help fellow bloggers is unparalleled and I wish to continue my association with them. 

Connections like these, I would always owe that to my blog. It might sound funny to a non-blogger, how I talk to and about my blog, as if she is a real being, but I know, you, being a fellow blogger get that :) .

Let the love of writing prevail ! Amen!

Writefully Yours,

Prateek Mathur

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Signs

 She looked at him once again. At his luscious lips , in particular. 

Filtered through her dark and beautiful eye lashes, he looked anxious but at peace. Having just poured his heart out, he looked like a man with nothing to lose.

A moment ago, he had just labored his way, through shattering teeth, snapping fingers and quivering lips, to say the three most beautiful yet potentially lethal words in the English language. 

Her lips parted for a brief second, as if to respond,  but she shut them tight. 

She raised her baby finger gently, followed by the synced pointing by her index finger and the thumb. 

Then she paused. So did his breath. The Earth too didn't move in solidarity.

Counting her toes, she slowly harmonized the movement of her thumb and the baby finger and smiled ear to ear!

Their love never needed words. Their lives would never be the hostage of communication.

Original Images - www.lifeprint.com 

New York, New York

www.prateek-mathur.com

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath in and exhaled till he felt his lungs devoid of any air. He did this three times. He then opened his eyes and stared blankly for a moment only to shut them again. This time, however, he did it so slow that he felt his upper eyelid gently caressing his lower eyelid and the eyelashes resting on them. In his mind he had finally perfected a real life slow motion that this moment deserved. 

He felt calmer and a beaming smile adorned his face. Upon reopening, his eyes were ready for a mesmerizing view.

That view. Oh, that view.

The sight from his penthouse on the 57th floor was exquisite. It trumped the lavish indoors that had a private elevator, French doors, antique furniture, and  oversized, sun flooded rooms. But this was all about the view. That the view was of Central Park made it even better. The fact that he owned  a $5,000,000 house in one of the most beautiful, stately and cultured neighborhood in the world capital of these virtues, made him feel like a King.

The Park was bustling with people, as usual. Those people seemed even "tinnier" from up here. He was one of them for a long time. Not anymore.

Not anymore.

This time he looked up in the sky and burst into laughter. Loud, cacophonous laughter.

Lost in his world, he knew he had made it.

Every victory, mattered in this city.

This  city. The greatest city on Earth. New York, New York.

...............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

He stood there as if he was about to run. With his back arched, right forearm and leg outstretched, he seemed to be just waiting to hear the gun shot to run for his life. But he remained still. Motionless. Even when people went past him, hitting and shoving him, his eyes remained intensely fixed on it. It was the stare match of its own kind and none of them were giving up.

It growled. He growled back. It bluffed a jump. He bluffed a run. None batted an eyelid.

He waited, waited and, waited patiently, some more. The moment the sun came in the right spot, he started to move frantically in the same spot. Incoherence was his greatest virtue. His scruffy hair jumping up and down his forehead, his dirty knees, peeping out of his torn jeans and his bare feet thumping the footpath.

He scared it away, rather, his shadow on the sidewall did. He always knew his shadow is worth more than his being in this city.

He jumped and snatched the sandwich from the rim of the trash can scaring the cat away.

This time he looked up in the sky and burst into laughter. Loud, cacophonous laughter.

Lost in his world, he knew he had made it.

Every victory, mattered in this city.

This  city. The greatest city on Earth. New York, New York.