Sunday, December 30, 2012

Unforgettable year

The year turned around and gave a whack on our faces, opened our eyes, touched our souls and  brought around a revolution of sorts , I will not forget 2012 and I hope none of us will, especially our Parliamentarians, the custodians of law, the highest authorities of our Country and all the men out there.

The year is almost gone but it has given a dull pain in the heart, which refuses to die down, eyes well up everytime I think about the girl whom none of us knew by face or name

I have this urge, a strong one to leave Delhi and settle down south, back to the roots, but at the same time I have no idea whether this shall bring safety to me and my family

It feels as if a knife is drawn through my chest everytime I think about my daughters venturing out alone in the future

I just hope the coming year shall bring about changes in our Country , our systems

I hope , wish and pray men will respect women in our Country, especially in the Capital city of Delhi

I hope, wish and pray men will stop ogling at women in our Country, especially in the Capital city of Delhi

I hope, wish and pray men will stop groping women at crowded markets, DTC buses, private buses and other such public transports

I hope , wish and pray for a better, safe and peaceful Country for all , especially for little girls and women

I hope, wish and pray for a wonderful, safe, prosperous, peaceful and Happy New year for all

Welcome 2013, bring along change, bring along respect and safety , bring along happiness !!



Monday, December 24, 2012

From the Capital, with shame!

Yes, my native place is not Delhi but I am born and brought up in Delhi, and I always felt more of a Delhite than anybody else and I was pretty proud to belong to such a beautiful place, the capital of India, the glorious place, but not any more, I am ashamed, I feel helpless and I am heart broken. I cried reading the newspapers on December 17,2012, I could well imagine the excruciating pain that the gang rape victim must have gone through, as a woman that was my first reaction, I shuddered and my heart felt heavy at the brutalities she was submitted to. The thought that how she and her friend must have felt upon realizing that they are trapped and they shall have to fight it out unsuccessfully weighed down my whole being. I looked at my innocent little daughters and didn’t know whether I shall ever be at peace when they shall grow up and go out for studying or working, infact, I am also apprehensive about sending them to school under such conditions, what with the news of a 3 year old being raped at play school.

 I myself am a working woman, and as a teenager, and as a working woman before and after marriage I have faced  kinds of harassments in buses, streets, lonely streets etc. there have been times when I had ran to the safety of my house, when I was coming back from my evening class and a long , suave car kept on following me when I was walking home from the bus stop on a cold , rainy December night, it seems all the beasts come out during dark and lonely winter nights.

The anger , the outburst of the crowds in Delhi is 100% justified, as a woman from Delhi, who has lived her life in Delhi I am proof enough to myself that this city is anything but safe, even when we are venturing out with our Father, brother, Husband, Son or boyfriend. If you happen to look at any man for a second longer than usual for any reason or just because you were thinking something else and your eyes wandered off to some ones direction, you shall get dirty looks and gestures in return, as if that is enough for them to fantasise that you are game , you are ready to sleep with them.

How come our men are so insensitive and so perverted and sexually starved, is it something to do with the upbringing, the family background or it is in their basic nature, but then we can not generalize every man like that, there are men who are perfect gentlemen, with perfect courtesy, polite speech and decent gaze, but they are surely rare to find , the majority are ready to pounce on any woman, given a good opportunity and time.

It is the moral responsibility of each of us to bring up our children especially the male children with utmost care and sensitivity, to make them sensitive to such incidents, to let them know how it is the worst thing in life to violate a woman , her modesty , it is equivalent to killing her.

Our system needs overhauling, fast track courts, more women judges and lawyers, more sensitivity to women. Any man ever, before thinking of such heinous crime should shudder at the thought of the consequences he shall have to bear as punishment. Every woman should have the right to venture out of their homes fearless, carefree and with confidence about her safety and well being.

I Hope and pray that the New year shall bring in all the above for all the little girls and women out there in Delhi and our Country as a whole and also that 13 shall be a lucky number for us .


Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Entwined souls

Washed away on the sea shore


I found your soul  in a seashell

I took it up delicately, placed it inside my palm,

Looked at it tenderly, you felt so warm,

I put you back in the seashell,

beside you I sat,

waiting for you, to come alive off the shell,

I closed my eyes , only inhaling the fragrance

of beautiful waves, in unending trance,

Then one beautiful moment I felt you,

You leaned on to me, your head on my shoulder

Your arms around me,

I felt blessed , your hands  and mine,
Your embrace, your presence, your soul and mine,

Now entwined, along a seashore,

For ever, forever, for ever

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Touching lines from a wonderful book

Given below are few wonderful lines written by Mitch Albom from his book 'Have a little faith', I have gone only half way through the book and it's a lovely , soul touching read till now. This little book has given me so much to think about that I plan to read his other books as well.


Here are the lines... more to come as and when I finish the book....



"My friends, If we are right with those we love, and we behave in line with our faith, our lives will not be cursed with the aching throb of unfulfilled business. Our words will always be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of ‘I could have, I should have’. We can sleep in a storm. And when it’s time our goodbyes will be complete".



Mitch Albom

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Happy birthday

My second born, my younger daughter turned five yesterday. Five years just flew by, I remember the very difficult pregnancy, the daily doses of insulin injections,  the day she was born she was almost bluish and how she was kept away from me for three days in the nursery, but still she seemed to be content and on her own. I was a very tired and depressed mother, the biting cold of Delhi winter was not helping much, but I remember distinctly that she did not bother me much, most of the times she was happy with the crowd of people around her, grandmothers, sister, cousins etc.

As time passed I observed that she was most happy in the company of her big sis, she looked around when she could not find her sister , when she started crawling, I could see her following big sis everywhere. I never realized when she had started eating on her own, doing her own things, started doing her homework and even talking so much to her sister, father and me. The fact is I never put any effort into all  this, I remember having a hard time in potty training my elder one, also I was constantly on her side in the evenings to teach her and make her study her alphabets correctly, here I did not even realize when the little one was potty trained, and how without me putting an effort she has started writing her alphabets and  words too…

Yesterday on her birthday, which we brought in without much fan fare I could see the amount of love she had for all of us, especially her sister, you give her two toffees and she will save one for her didi, when they sit down for dinner she will always bring two glasses of water, when I scold her didi, she would ask me not to scold her, she loves her didi’s company, they are happy singing songs together, choreographing their own dances, becoming teacher to each other in their teacher student play.

I am a first born myself and I always thought that my parents loved my sister more, but now that I am a parent, I can see that each child is different, infact the second born children are mostly on their own, by the time they arrive the parents are not so hyper any more, they have also learned their lessons in bringing up the first one, so they usually have a relaxed approach to the second one and the child also gets a cue out of it and becomes relaxed individuals themselves.

Suddenly I feel my children have grown up too fast , I would like to savour the moment, enjoy each day with them, hug them and inhale their baby softness some more, it may be just a matter of couple of years more that they might  start minding the hugs and kisses as expression of our love to them.

Happy birthday dearest daughter, love you and your didi to bits, God bless both of you !!

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Motherhood

‘Motherhood’, when I was unmarried, I felt it was the most overrated virtue. When my mother used to get up early in the morning, even in the hardest of winters, and me and my sister were still curled up in the warm quilts, I used to wonder why does she have to do all these things? okay she has to cook but why get up so early for it, okay we have school, but then what is the need to get up at 5.am to do the cleaning and mopping and why get after our life to get up and get ready ??… well.. I even used to ask her, why do you do so much? Why can’t you sleep some more? Why don’t you ever relax? and my mother used to tell me you will know when your turn comes, but I was very sure that I will never be like her, my sleep and my comfort was too precious for me to even think of compromising on it for anybody.. anybody!!

Then I got married and even then I had no inkling, I still had the same feeling towards motherhood, I was not particularly inclined towards my nieces and nephews from my husband’s side, from our side I am the eldest so thankfully I did not have howling babies and naughty toddlers running around wild. I was greatly annoyed at the way my sister in law kept all calm and silent in the midst of screaming children jumping on the sofas or slyly scribbling on the walls , sliding down the stair case railing etc. After a couple of years when I was blessed with a daughter I still had no inkling, as people say, there was no instant connection, there was no love at first sight, in fact I made sure for a couple of days under the garb of recovering from my csec stitches that I never even looked at the direction of her when my mother or mother in law changed her nappies … aargh.. it was not for me to do it.. I thought I’d ask them to stay some more and let them do it, then I would have some ayah to attend to her, so I planned.

That was me, but the U turn came when after we had reached home and it was almost a week and I saw my husband, who was worse than me when it came to kids, changing nappies without complaining, infact I saw him taking the initiative, I saw him burping her, cradling her in his arms and saying sweet nothings… that is when I realized… it was actually a realization.. I felt guilty and bad about myself, how could I have turned my face from my child … I realized that neither my mom nor his mom is going to stay with us forever, I also realized that after a few months I would any way have to leave my child behind under my mother in laws care and join office, so I changed, I made an effort.  I looked long and hard at my daughter, her beautiful face (by now I know for every Mother, their child is the most beautiful) , jet black hair, such soft skin and the way she looked at me as if she knew I am her mother and I would take care of her. I started getting up at nights with out being called to feed her, change her nappies and hold her, she cried a lot during the first month, and I was upset , I tried to cajole her, soothe her and when nothing worked I even shouted at her and my father sleeping in the next room would wake up and take her from me and put her to sleep.

Motherhood, I tell you changes even the hardest of souls , I was one, I was least interested in kids, I was happy to be only me and my husband and no baby to attend to but when my daughter was born, a few weeks and I was changed, though I still have the hardness in me somewhere , like I used to yell at her for crying a lot, even now I do that for various reasons. Both my daughters have melted away my hardness and I am mostly a changed person now, and yes now I get up at 5.am in the mornings and cook because my daughter’s school bus comes at 6.30 am and now she asks me ‘Mamma why do you have to get up so early in the morning, why don’t you relax some more?

Yes... now I do not think ‘Motherhood’ is an overrated virtue at all, it definitely changes you for the better , it is not about any sacrifice.. it is not that you have to become a mother to become a better person but I sincerely believe that  it is about understanding another soul as you have never tried understanding any other........

Somersaults of a monkey mind


Isn’t it absolutely amazing the way our mind jumps from one thought to another in a matter of seconds. To keep the mind focused is the biggest challenge, I have been trying for the past couple of days, unsuccessfully though, to practise meditation. The moment I sit down on my mat in the early morning, with nothing but calm and peace around me to practise meditation, my mind starts jumping like an accomplished high jumper, a thorough gymnast and an effortless dancer, seriously, it is as if my mind is deliberately doing it, it is teasing me and mocking me or even challenging me to make it sit quietly and peacefully even for a minute. My mind opens up a myriad topics, some of which has never crossed my mind for so long, I tried chanting, I tried visualizing , affirmative thoughts but alas! Nothing, nothing seems to work.

1) When faced with such dilemma I turned to Google baba who directed me to various articles on   meditation

2) I read lots and lots on meditation and its positive effects

3) I imagined myself with a halo around my head (at least this will encourage my mind to behave !!)

4) I tried to go through each part of my body starting with my legs, imagining a positive energy travelling through it, but midway, by the time I reach the calves, I am thinking about how I have not baked a cake since long

5) I tried to see images on the wall on which I can concentrate, but all I see is what should I wear for office today ! heck!

I know many of my fellow bloggers and readers are really exceptional people with so much of knowledge, please give your expert opinion, your advise and help me achieve my goal, that is how to meditate successfully at least for five minutes to begin with… you might think that I am not serious about this, but believe me I am.. I am .. I really want to meditate and calm my mind and channelize my thoughts and energy into positivity in life… …only I am not able to control the somersaults of my monkey mind…



Sunday, October 21, 2012

invisible cord

The fine lines and wrinkles


Dwindling eyesight and silver hair

Faltering steps , hazy mind

Holding on to the words so kind

Warmth of your sturdy hands

Steadying grip

Am I the result of my preceding years

The scoldings and stand outs

The arguments and silences

The tears ,then the hugs

The realization, the distance

The calls, the letters

You are so lucky you can walk back

Put your hands around and hug

But what about the wheel

That only moves and provides

No hugs , no warmth , no affection

Only a thread of duty,

The remains of a severed cord

Invisible, still throbbing with life

Waiting, tear stained cheeks

In anticipation of the loving lap

The fragrance of love ….never to be

For time has travelled away

No comebacks here…

only the invisible cord.

tied on one end ...

still alive ..throbbing..invisible............



Friday, October 5, 2012

A poignant question

The day before yesterday my daughter was quite excited , she was one of the selected few of her class who were being taken by the school to visit an old age home. She made a handmade card , got us buy eatables for all the naanis and daadis she was going to meet, she even wanted me to cook halwa for them, but since this idea dawned on her in the morning when there was only 10 minutes left for the school bus to arrive we could not do anything about it, she also had plans to buy a few saris for them and so on… I was quite happy to see that my daughter actually looked forward to this and wanted to really spend time with the old age home naanis, may be it’s all the good effect of being with her grandparents during the day,  I thought.

 In the afternoon I gave a call to her, as usual, to ask her how was the day, what did she do at school etc.( for that day at the old age home),  from the other side the voice that came was quite a sad one, all the enthusiasm and excitement was gone from her voice and she sounded dull. I was quite taken aback and asked the reason, she told me that the Naanis in the old age home , around 9 in numbers were very unhappy people, they were constantly quarreling / arguing with each other, excepting one or two. They were only interested in seeing what was brought for them by the children, meanwhile,  the management of the old age home  had given instructions to the children and the teachers who accompanied them that anything that they have brought for the inmates should be submitted to the management who will distribute it, inspite of this some children gave away things to some individuals and it created problems among them. My daughter told me that one of the old lady saw the packet of toffees in my daughters hand and forcibly asked her to give it to her saying that  she shall distribute it, my daughter had no choice but to give it away.   She then said that the they (the children) started a game of Antakshari with the Naanis ,  wherein after around 5 minutes they seemed disinterested and asked the children  to stop it as they were giving them a headache. My daughter was quite upset, she had also given the hand made card to one of the naanis who had taken it but without much interest.

It was very difficult for me to explain to my daughter  that she should not have any ill feeling for these naanis because it is possible that they were bitter with their life as they were living away from their loved ones, they might be feeling angry and helpless and they unknowingly expressed their feelings like this, and that she should be happy that she was chosen as one of the few who were  suppossed to make them happy at least for a day. I also told her that they were not rude or quarrelsome and irritated because of you all, that is the children, I told her that they are upset with their lives, they want to be with their families just like your own naani and daadi  lives and seeing all of you, may be they were reminded of their own grandchildren, and they did not want to give away their  feelings therefore camouflaging it with rudeness to distract themselves.

 I do not know whether  I did the right thing by way of this explanation but I could see that  my daughter seemed to have understood, at the same time she asked me a very poignant question "why do their families keep them away from themselves"?? This was such a question which had no answer, at the same time it had  so many answers in the form of so  many incidences ,  so many sad stories… but at the end of the day it is a question which haunts all of us.. and the fact that it is not a question which can have a straight and simple answer in today's scenario is quite a depressing thought.

I wish all of us who would also reach old age sooner or later shall try to  understand the emotions of our elderly people , be a little patient with them and do not forget that it's only a matter of time that we shall be in their age, may be then we would realise the intensity of the pain they go through, know the reasons for their decisions, their likes and dislikes, irritiations, fears, insecurities etc. but somehow I have a gnawing feeling that by then it will be too late...

Monday, September 24, 2012

The Krishna Key (by Ashwin Sanghi ) – a book review



The best gift to give an avid reader is a good book and I was more than happy to have received a copy of the ‘Krishna Key’ by Ashwin Sanghi (writer of Rozabal Line and Chanaky’s Chant). The book caught my attention from the word go, it was an interesting read especially with Lord Krishna's  monologue before the start of each chapter, Krishna’s story in his own words is unraveled before us parallelly with the main plot. The maps and pictures also gives a different feel to the book.

The book reminds us many times of the unforgettable ‘Da vinci Code’ by Dan brown. The main protagonist Ravi Mohan Saini and others are part of a great story woven expertly to keep us engaged and engrossed till the end. The amount of research which has been done for this book is quite amazing, many revelations come as an eye opener to us, I have personally noted down many instances so that I can check back and do some research on my own about these, especially about the Dwarka City, the Mount Kailash’s measurements, the symantaka stone etc.

However , at some points it seems that if the book lands into the hands of fanatics or people who can not exercise much control on their religious sentiments then it may create a havoc on certain facts as mentioned in the book, it would be good for all the readers to go through the disclaimer before they start reading the book.

Over all on a score of 5 the book deserves a good 4 points for its gripping tale, even though the tale falters at some places and grip loosens at certain points but still the way the story has been built up and brought to the climax is quite commendable, though I do feel that the climax could have been more dramatic/ thrilling.

I would recommend this book to all of you who likes to read a good thriller.

A book worth reading !!! go for it …..


This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com. Participate now to get free books!


Friday, September 21, 2012

EGO


Warning : Looong rambling ahead



I would like to seiously dwell upon ‘EGO’, the culprit, the villain , the black sheep among all the state of mind a human being experiences and analyse it's effect on us, mostly in our daily life. This seems to be the main driving force behind many a feuds whether political, social, personal or professional.

For example what's with Mamata Banerjee walking out of UPA  and Sonia Gandhi refusing to acknowledge the dent her party has suffered due to it, what is riding high at both the sides??? yes, the answer is 'EGO'.

Why should ‘I’(the EGO)  come between all my happiness and well being, why can’t ‘I’ be happy being not considered first for everything every time? why is it that 'I' feel bad when things happen without keeping my aspirations and comforts in mind? when 'I' am not given the importance which ‘I’ feel ‘I’ deserve. Is it necessary that every time I talk to you , I should feel respected, valued  and welcomed and appreciated, even if I have done nothing to earn any of those , why should I feel bad if you do not approach me to resolve a conflict, or a quarrel, or if you do not come back and say sorry to me first before ‘I’ think of resuming talking with you again.

Also everytime I fight with you , I have an argument with you, why should I feel bad that everytime it’s me who comes to you and says sorry, does it make me less of a person and you more of a person??

At office when cc’s are forgotten to be marked or important informations are not marked to you, may be by mistake, why do you get all worked up? If some one junior to you walks past you and does not wish you , why do you feel bad and will hold a grudge against that person? Why do you always want that a person who has already sent an email to you on an important issue should request to you politely another 3 times before he finally gets an answer from you?

Well, EGO, what is with you ?? tell me can I keep you aside forever, or even most of the times and see the change that will happen, or it’s just not possible, because as someone full of you has "mildly" put it, “what is a man without his EGO”???


May be it is the effect of all the Paulo Coelho I had been reading !!!



Freud's diagram of the EGO and the ID..   PS: Dont ask me to explain it, my EGO will be hurt ;)

Monday, September 10, 2012

My first book review : ‘Just Married , Please Excuse’- By Yashohara Lal



I have read many books and many book reviews but I was never tempted to write a review, but this book has been so much fun that I need to bring this on to all the people who care to read my blog….

I finished reading ‘JMPE’, within a day , in fact half a day, I read it during my journey back to my house from Gurgaon after lunch with the bloggers and Y, that is , since the moment I laid my hands on it I fell in love with it.

I have only one word for this novel and that is ‘Hilarious’, Y has managed to remain so even in the most somber part of the story where the couple has to seek the intervention of a marriage counselor due to some misunderstandings between them .

I particularly liked the ‘ Vijay Reema and Yashodhara Reema’ episode.  I couldn’t control my laughter where in Y states that she would remind herself to learn the art of ‘one eyebrow raising’ by practicing it in front of the mirror when she is alone, which the marriage counselor whom she describes as ‘a woman like a ball’ often does, mind you, this is in midst of hot question whether to continue with this marriage or not going on in her head .

There were many other instances, were I laughed out so loud during the read, that my 10 year old daughter wanted to read the book along with me and the younger one looked at me wondrously.

The story has a quality of being natural and totally honest, in fact I felt like I was sitting somewhere in her drawing room, or the bed room or kitchen when these events were taking place and I was a silent spectator to it. There is no literary pretensions at all, only pure, unadulterated fun and humour and that too with which any of us can easily relate to.

To conclude with, Yashodhara Lal’s ‘Just Married, Please Excuse’ is totally recommended as a laughter laden read. Yashodhara invariably manages to tickle your funny bone even in the most serious scene.

Having read her blog , I really am looking forward to a second part of ‘JMPE’ wherein we would be witnessing the arrival of her twin boys, pickle and papad….till then happy reading…





'Just Married Please Excuse' contest winners luncheon Meet – 8-9-12



I entered the ‘mamagoto’ restaurant in Gurgaon as a part of around 20 bloggers 'lunch meet' arranged  for the winners who had won a lunch and a signed copy of ‘Just Married Pelase Excuse’, contest at Y's blog  . I was really, really excited for the day to unfold as I wanted to meet Y(Yashodhara), who also writes a wonderful blog and wanted to read her book at the earliest.

Since upon my arrival there were none other than Neha, of Harper Collins who was around, after exchanging a few pleasantries with her, I decided to look up the cute and elegant 'mamagato restaurant'  which had laid down a long beautiful table for all of us bloggers to have lunch and interact with Y.

Slowly the bloggers started coming in and it was really a fun meet with all the ladies and two gentlemen, Y’s husband (Vijay, also the hero of the novel) and Dipta who is also a writer. I was most excited to meet the author herself, and not exaggerating one bit, she is the most down to earth, simple and yet most affectionate, ‘without any airs’ individual that I have ever met, she chatted away happily with all of us who were present, our subject ranged from ‘JMPE’, to our blogs, to the topic which had made us won this lunch, to the novels we liked etc. etc. and Yashodhara was a part of all the chit chat going on, and as a caring hostess she could be seen sitting at various ends of the long table so that she can meet and interact with each one of us. And let me tell you guys.. she does not one bit look like a mother of three children, she doesn’t even look married for that matter. She was sweet enough to pose with us for photographs and she smilingly obliged to my request for marking the copy of my ‘JMPE’ to my 10 year old daughter.

The Chief Editor of Harper Collins, Karthika, was also quite an enthusiastic person who mixed well with everyone on the table and all of us got an opportunity to introduce ourselves to everyone, however, as the occasion was quite informal and interesting with all the ladies enjoying to the hilt, the introduction had many breaks in between, before one of us again started off with it so that everyone gets introduced to everyone and Y.

The people, the food, the ambience were so good that time just flied and before I knew , it was time for me to leave , but not before meeting Y and her husband Vijay and thanking them for the wonderful lunch and the copy of the 'JMPE'.

Hey, it would be truly unfair if I conclude this post without a few words about the wonderful food and ambience of ‘Mamagoto’ gurgaon, which has just recently opened, the dishes were very tasty and authentic, I especially liked the prawn dishes , everyone at the table enjoyed their food. The staff of mamagoto were very polite and courteous and so was the owner who dropped in towards the end of our lunch. This is a must visit for all of you who love your Chinese and oriental dishes…

Saturday was a truly wonderful and event ful day with good food and good read.. two things I like most….

Enjoy the Photographs !!!


The sparkling Mamagoto -gurgaon


the charming Y- Yashodhara - the author herself


Y, Vijay and Karthika, Chief Editor - Harper Collins with the group


Good food and Company !!!



https://www.facebook.com/MamagotoFunAsian



Wednesday, September 5, 2012

a colourful dream

The various hues of green all around was so mesmerizing that I could not say which shade of green was my favourite.  The light , parrot green of the paddy field or the thick bottle green of the mango tree, I could even see the onion pink coloured rose apples peeping out from the thick of dark  green rose apple tree, the rose apple tree with its heady fragrance and crunchy rose apples swayed gently in the aromatic breeze.  
I was in the middle of a beautiful river with gentle green  waters, and I was sitting lazily  in the long and elegant boat savouring the beautiful scenery around me.......suddenly the boat swerved, making me jump out of my skin, and with that jump ended my colourful and scenic dream which transported me back to the beautiful village in my  God’s own Country… Hmmm….sigh !!!!
So how many times have you been jolted out of a beautiful dream????

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

The Just married Please Excuse Contest....

So ladies and gentlemen, let me come out of my tortoise shell of morbid posts and general gloom in my blog and jump on to this. Well I have read ‘ Yashodharalal ‘and has been an avid admirer of her blog for long, though a silent one at that, but I always admitted after reading her that she is the one who is actually doing the ‘BALANCING ACT’.

To take things forward , let me tell you that , my marriage day dawned after a lot of trepidations, why , because though we were of the same caste and region and religion etc. but still ours was a ‘love marriage’ and that too which had survived the ups and downs of time for the last 7 years. Though the sailing was rough but it was still manageable with regard to both set of parents and relatives , however, I was always worried about one thing and that was my husband’s (then would be) habit of coming late for everything , everywhere. I was and am still the total opposite of this, because of the same reason I was a bit worried, why worried?? Because after knowing him for so many years I was almost sure that he is going to miss the ‘muhurtham’(auspicious time for the marriage ceremony), and I had given him enough warning when I told him that “if you do not turn up on time, I am going to put the ‘mala’ on the next best available guy around”, well , I knew that he loved me enough not to mess things up.. but..you know women has their sixth sense and all…

Well on the marriage day, since morning, I had this strange things happening in my stomach, it was not pain, it was not discomfort, but it was something so tangible that I knew this was nothing but the essence of all my stress which has got itself accumulated in my stomach!!

Well, as it goes in most of the Malayali marriages, this was also to be held in the temple and we (the girls side ) had already reached the temple quite a few hours in advance, so the feeling of waiting gathered momentum all the more. Now with in no time the ‘Muhurtham’ was fast approaching and I got news from my cousins milling around me that the ‘boy’ and his party has still not arrived. Well ..I was almost in tears because I knew that if this day and ‘muhurtham’ things do not materialize then it will never do… I was in two minds … should I actually put the ‘Mala’ on the ‘next best available’… but then when there was exactly 3 minutes left for the ‘muhurtham ‘, the boy walked in with an obviously tensed disposition, and so was his parents (I later came to know that he had threatened his parents with dire consequences !! if he is not able to reach on time), and he almost jumped on to the ‘Mandapam’ (podium where the marriage ceremony is held) and in a jiffy the marriage ceremony was on, the thaali (mangalsutra) was tied in haste, and I remember almost running while doing the ‘pradakshinam’ or pheras , so that we do all the required ceremonies within the timeline… PHEW…. Once this was over, I could see the ‘boy’ grinning away shyly but with satisfaction and eyeing me out of the corner of his eyes.. I wanted to blast him then and there for I had warned him of this day and situation always….. (The Malayali Hindu marriages which as it is gets over in minutes seemed to have concluded in seconds in our case .. )

All is well that ends well.. so we thought..once the ceremonies were over and we proceeded to his house , once we reached there, me who was fresh out of crying and feeling overtly emotional , like every girl who gets married and leaves her parents home does , (though this was a marriage which I was eagerly looking forward to for the last so many years), was feeling totally lonely and out of place and awkward, though I knew all his family very well. The house itself was bursting out of its seams with relatives and friends and neighbours. We had reached his house around 4 pm, and I had hoped that by late evening people will leave, it seemed I was wrong, even the stair cases leading to the first floor where we had our room was filled with people , some standing, some sitting and talking, some having tea etc. I was made to sit on a bed with many more women and children around and it was almost 10 pm and there was no sign of any respite. My head was throbbing, I wanted to get out of the heavy sari , the jewellery, the flowers etc. and more importantly , I could not find my husband anywhere around for a long time.

And then another drama unfolded, I came to know around 11.00 pm from my sister in law that all the friends and cousins had kept our room under lock and key and had kept the key hidden, they wanted my husband to pay up a good amount if he wanted to enter it with his ‘dulhan’, well he refused to give up and so did they, eventually to cut a looong story short, by 12 pm , after intervention from my in-laws we were finally allowed to enter our room (my husband finally paid), but the condition from the cousins and friends was that - they insisted on him carrying me to the room ( beautifully decorated by them) and also that they will sit on the open space in the terrace, right in front of our room , the whole night or till they feel like !!! So the night was accompanied by hoots and songs and jokes out side our room in full swing.. and inside the two of us, who had got married ‘just on time’ after so much of waiting had just one thing in mind ‘Just married, Please Excuse’!!!







Sunday, August 12, 2012

Burning feet

The criss cross paths


the empty vessels

Lack of money

Hungry stomachs

The desire for learning

Lack of clothes

Tear stained faces

Black and blue bruises

Borrowed books

Borrowed clothes

Hungry stomachs

Struggle and neglect

Mirage of abundance

Bubble bursts

Struggle on and on

Burdens heavier

Life stretches

Shades and water

Unable to sustain

Thorns , harsh words

No shade , no breeze

Burning sands

Burning feet, life stretches

Time laughs, taunts , hobbles on....

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Love marriage ya arranged marriage

Scene 1, the twinkle in her eyes, the fragrance in her hair, everything about her is so heady in the courtship days, nothing and nobody would work in place of her. His voice, his looks, his caring touch, heart yearns for it after he is long gone, heart beats in waiting for the day when a meeting is planned, nothing holds her and his attention other than each other’s loving presence and sweet memories. Everything culminates into a sweet climax when they get married, that is the happy ending to an eventful love saga turning into a beginning of a so called 'love marriage'.

Cut to Scene 2, somewhere else, a boy and a girl meets where both their families are present and they are conveniently provided with some time (around 10 minutes may be) to spend with each other, and then they have tea and snacks and dryfrutis , they part ways and give their message either through the family friend who has materialized this meeting or through the broker who has brought this ‘rishta’ that ‘yes’ the boy likes the girl or the girl likes the boy or vice versa and then happens the ‘chat mangni aur pat byah’ because one of the aged relative of the boy or girl wants to see her / his pota/ poti married before they go for their eternal yatra…. And their two minute meeting also culminates into a so called ‘arranged marriage’.

On the day both the marriages are taking place, the heart beat of these couple are like drums beating in some tarzan ka jungle type , one’s out of unbearable excitement and happiness turning into delirium at dreams getting materialized and the other at the thought of (especially the girl) sweating buckets and having truckload of butterflies in her stomach, how is she going to live with a man she has only met twice?? (okay now a days may be 60 times) before marriage, well.. to cut a long story short.. even this culminates into a climax where the couple nervously, but happily, sometimes doubtfully enters into the unknown land of marriagedom – word especially coined for these innocent lambs.. err.. lives… (yes.. yes akin to martyrdom…)

Both the ‘love marriage’ guys and the ‘arranged marriage ‘ guys suffer through the same 'honey moon mania' and then the ‘please give us some private space’ to ‘please give me my space’, to ‘I will be late today’ every evening to ‘why do you keep the wet towel on the bed ‘ to ‘oh God yeh shaadi maine kyun ki’??? so at the end of the day any couple who has ‘loved’ for 10 years and gets married and a couple who gets married and loves for 10 years goes through the same rigmarole of married life, same highs and lows, same love and quarrels, same tiffs and fights and then ends up together,sometimes for the love that holds them together and sometimes for the cute little babies born out of their love…

However, being born an Indian, and a staunch ‘love marriage’ person I would any day advocate a love marriage or a love cum arranged marriage, which is the latest trend, wherein you love someone.. and then you show the person to your parents and they arrange everything and they live happily ever after !!! , well…. I would advise to rather step into a marriage with unbearable excitement and happiness turning into delirium instead of sweating buckets and having truckload of butterflies in one’s dainty stomach…

www.facebook.com/LoveYaArrange.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Let me

To stop and smell the flowers


To unload the heavy bagpack from the shoulders

To feel light and happy

To forget the feelings so heavy

To feel the rain drops

To hug and cuddle with the kids

To run around wildly with them in the parks

To enjoy their gurgles and hearty , happy laughter

To stop and smell the flowers

To unload the heavy bagpack from the shoulders

Dreams and wishes, can I touch with you a magic wand?   

Can I longingly look at you and plead you to come true??

Please stop the sands of time,

Let me be the mother with lots of time

With lots of patience and warmth

With lots of understanding and care

With lots of love and hugs

Let me ,

Let me stop and smell the flowers

Let me be the mother I want to be…..

Monday, July 23, 2012

Satyamev Jayate : An Incredibe Effort !!

Kudos to the incredible efforts put in by Aamir khan in opening the nation’s mind and eyes to various issues which are swept under the carpet or are treated with indifference. The title of his programme, ‘Satyamev Jayate’ itself is enough to bring goosebumps and patriotism to the forefront of one’s mind, one can not in any way negate or nullify the effort that he has put in bringing our attention to various burning isssues, right from female infanticide to alcoholism to challenges faced by the physically handicapped, the problems of senior citizens and the latest one on Water scarcity and issues are all absolutely sincere in its effort and it’s effect on the masses.

The beauty of this programme is that he is not only letting his audience face the depths and widths of a problem, a national issue, but he is also trying his best to give every problem a solution, and it is not as if he is providing the solutions, he is bringing to the forefront those people who had already been working on these issues, he is giving a platform to all of them to come to the limelight and adulation they so very much deserve and let be an example for so many others. Critics had gone on a rampage against his tears, his concept and trying to become a real hero attempt, but we have to accept and give him the credit he so truly deserves for this wonderful effort. I wish we could all emulate and bring to practicality what he is propagating and let our Country get rid of some of the most outrageous social issues and let her shine once again and be the ‘Sone ki chidiya’ she  was once upon a time, in terms of prosperity, culture and virtues and welfare of its Country men.

Satyamev Jayate

Monday, July 16, 2012

Scared !

It feels like a dark , hollow , suffocating tunnel which leads to nowhere. Yes, you are right, those are very very pessimistic and negative thoughts, but what else do you expect in such a dark situation where every day you hear about a rape, a molestation and kidnap and abduction of young girls and women. I am no social worker or media person but I am one of those women who venture out of the house everyday and return back after dusk and sometimes even during odd hours due to the call of duty, and I have two daughters who are growing up , and I am living in the capital of India which is unfortunately now know as the most unsafest place for women. I am appalled at the apathy and indifference of the Government and the society as a whole towards this issue. Some small towns and villagers are waking up to this but then the rules they are founding for the safety seems like out of stone age, the thought behind the rule is well taken but does banning the mobile for women under 40 and not allowing them in markets and not allowing them without male escorts going to help solve this problem forever?? Is it not fanning the female foeticide a bit more, I am sure their will be no mothers in Haryana who would ever like to have a daughter, not because they do not want it but because they would rather not have them than letting them grow up in such primitive conditions.

When small little girls are looked at as future problems and future rape victims and future ruiners of society’s peace, what is the future of these girls in the times to come. It is difficult to believe that this is the same Country where women like Jhansi ki rani, Indira Gandhi and Mother Teresa lived, it is difficult to believe that these men after a rape goes to the shrine of a ‘Mata’ to pay penance and goes and takes a dip in holy ‘ganga mata ’ to wash away those stains of undoubtedly the most heinous crime which can ever be committed.

What is it that we are doing wrong, why are our men only respectful to their mothers, why cant they have same respect to other women, why can’t women be treated as human beings, rather than sex objects, why should they be judged on the basis of what they wear? It is not that there are no decent men in India or Delhi or these small villages and towns but their number sure seems to be dwindling by the day. The story of the women from small unknown villages and towns of India are even more scary , the way they are gang raped, the way they are stripped and paraded naked, the way they are the instruments to take revenge or satiate the fantasies of some politically strong , hungry ruffians looking for some fun, the whole situation screams for some urgent , effective attention.

Like Haryana, or some parts of Punjab, would it be that one day our whole nation would be scared of giving birth to a daughter ?? Would every mother silently pray for a son and never a daughter, would our future generations be deprived of the love and care of a daughter??? I am really scared.



Monday, June 18, 2012

The big black pot with a lid


When the lazy afternoons gave way to a big orange sun on the horizon with clouds hovering around it, sometimes to embrace, sometimes to hide and sometimes to just be besides the majestic one, that was almost always the most interesting time of the day for me, the little girl in a laid back little town of Kerala, way back, rather decades back.

When a sleepy little me, after my afternoon nap, forayed into the dark kitchen and looked around and fumbled with the lid of the ‘big black pot with a lid’, that was the pot which held the goodies for the evening snack with tea, and my grandmother knew that to find me she does not have to look elsewhere, just to the corner of the kitchen and she can find me struggling with the lid, and she would come to the kitchen and help me lift the lid and take a piece of my evening palaharam.

Years passed the little girl grew up but the memories did not fade, and one day I wanted my grandmother to show me the black pot with the lid which I used o call’ karutha patram’ (black vessel) , which held so many good memories of so many golden evenings and of the goodies which my grandfather used to bring for me every evening when he came back from work and my grandma used to save one or two pieces of these palaharams so that I can have it next day with the evening tea. So she showed me the pot and, oh my God!! I could not believe my eyes, this was a small black pot with lid, “‘what happened to the big black pot with lid’, in which you used to store goodies for me?”, I asked her, she smiled and said this is the same, you were so small at that time that this pot seemed so big for you and you used to struggle to lift it’s lid to savour the snacks.

Well, that was a surprise, but I started loving the ‘big black pot with a lid’ a bit more and looked at it lovingly and extracted a promise out of my grandma to pass it on to me as an heirloom, not to give it away to any one else, even if it cracks or gets faded or useless. she promised, she would, the black pot suddenly seemed so special and I realized I have not seen that kind of a utensil any where till now, it seemed a Chinese pot , but looked different , with handles, and lid and such a lovely round shape.

But then I grew a bit more , distances also grew, I do not know about rights and wrongs and whether the pot has been passed on to someone else or it has faded or cracked,  but I know for sure that  I still miss the' big  black pot with the lid' and those golden evenings of that laid back town and the love that helped me lift the lid to savour the goodies.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Only you can

I see your tears, they mark your pretty face
I see the smouldering volcanoe under the calmenss
I see the struggle you are putting up every day
I see you trying to gather strength whatever way
The little hands clutching on to you
the naughty smiles tugging on your heart, cuddling on to you
only you can smile through a haze of heart break
only you can stand tall for your childrens sake






Thursday, March 8, 2012

A Tag

1. You must post the rules.


2. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post & then create 11 new questions to ask the people you’ve tagged.

3. Tag 11 people and link to them on your post.

4. Let them know you’ve tagged them!

So here are the 11 questions that Nancy of Refelctions has tagged me with

1.) If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

It would be definitely something to do with making people happy , to take away their pains and make them happy and content , at least for a while… please pardon me for sounding like the finalist of Ms. Universe.. but I really really meant it.. :)


2.) What was your favourite childhood television program?

Hey I remember those Sundays, for which we used to wait patiently through out the week, and on Sundays starting 9.00 am there were so many programs, I don’t know whether any one remembers but there was a serial called ‘kachi dhoop’ starring Bhagyashree, and many other kids and I used to love it…and yes I used to wait for the ‘Chitrahaar’ on Wednesday and Friday’s 8.PM,… see how much I loved it.. I still remember the timings..



3.) Have / had any celebrity crushes ?

I do not know whether any of you remembers, but there was a time in the 80’s (ooh.. there I gave it out) when ‘Govinda’ was a rage, he acted in so many films , I was a huge fan of his, If you can call it a crush..that is…



4.) If you could visit anywhere in the world, where would you go?


I am so fascinated by the view of the alps and the green green pastures and picturesque landscape, I think I can give my two feet to get there and spend a lit’l me time… vow.. what a thought…’Switzerland’ :)




5.) Name 1 thing you miss about being a child.

The only thing I miss about being a child is the house where I lived in kerala for the first 5 years of my life, this house was surrounded by nature’s bounty and there were acres of paddy field stretching out and then there was a Railway line.. as you must have seen in many of my posts it is one recurring scene .. so I miss that place.. very badly..



6.) Name the one comic/book character that you loved the most and why?

I used to read a lot of comics and I liked all of them, especially ‘Archies’ and ‘Phantom’, I was a big fan of ‘phantom’, every time I read a phantom comic, I hoped to see the face of Phantom,..but I never came across any issue giving out this.. has any of you come across such an issue and is that comic available nowadays.. ?

7.) What is the one thing that you are dying to try but haven’t had a chance to do so yet ?

It is to go travelling on my own , may be to some pictersque villge , may be in kerala, may be somewhere else, just taking in the natural beauty, watching the birds, the flowers, the leaves , the trees .. just the thought of it gives me so much pleasure.. and may be reading an interesting book sitting under a ‘Gulmohur’ or ‘rose apple’ tree..



8.) Do you have a role model – someone you want to emulate? Whom do you admire the most?

All the women who are balancing life so beautifully, sometimes failing , sometimes winning and sometimes standing up admirably are my role models.



9.) What do others make of you?

I think people who know me well knows me as a straight forward person, simple and down to earth , I am quite friendly and sometimes I can make others laugh too, and yes sometimes the ‘being straightforward’, lands me in a soup too….


10.) Have you ever gotten into a fight or punched someone ?

Oh.. yes.. very much , the earlier apartment where we were living was a kind of hell, there was something or the other happening every day, bad enough situations sparking off arguments and in one such argument I really wanted to punch the guy I was talking to .. but then I could not (of course I feared being punched back).. well…



11.) For Girls – If you woke up tomorrow to find out you are Brad Pitt, what would be the first thing you’d say upon looking in the mirror???


I would go find Angy .. and rest is any body’s guess ;)



And as usual due to lack of enough blogger friends I tag the following though it might not make a list of 11 people

Deepshttp://www.deepsspeakingup.wordpress.com/
Swaramhttp://www.thesongoflife.wordpress.com/
http://themustardseedmeadow.blogspot.in/
Sangeeta http://banaraskakhana.blogspot.in/
Vani http://ummon.wordpress.com/
Sarah http://www.daofto.com/
lan http://www.vaayanaseelam.blogspot.in/

P.S: Sooorrrryy.... guys as I am a lazy goose I have not created 11 new questions, all of you are free to do it and the lazy one's carry on  with the same questions ;)  after all, rules are made to be broken :)

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Rain and a soul

The silver lining disappeared,


Winds with claws gnawed on

Rain drops pattered on intermittently,

rays of peeking sun hid behind a gray cloud,

abandoning the shine to an ominous dark.

Sky waited with bated breath,

looking for a moment to grasp the rainbow.

Below on the ochre land ,

a humming bird circled a violet flower,

peeping in for honey and dew.

The swaying branch of the coconut tree,

sprinkled the drops of pouring rain,

on to a clinging vine embracing her.

A wandering soul drifted around,

calming the lamenting heart with scent of wet earth.

Then, spotting a lone lantern ,

slowly, turned itself into a moth,

to enjoy the heat of its own peril,

in the dim, beckoning warm light of the lantern.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Unending path

I need long steps to cover that path,
 Stretching out beyond me into the horizon
 I can not see an end in sight
Only dry leaves on yellow grass, no shelter,
no wooden bench on either side of the path
only shade and sun crisscrossing the trees,
some tall and majestic ,some stunted and sad
sometimes I drag myself to the next point in sight
or just sprint away breathing the eucalyptus' heady fragrance
sometimes I long for a soul to turn to
or just acknowledgment of what I am
I long for the cocoon of warm embrace
 Of those who brought me to this world
The pure expression of being looked after
And being proud of …but I find nothing
 Only acres of land sprawling under my feet
Sometimes I breakdown by the rose apple tree,
 Longing to rest there for long, not to get up ever
Just to sit there soaking in my own tears
Or just pepping up my self and giving a pat,
 A loving one on my shoulder ,
to get me up To walk till the point where the earth meets the sky
It might be this birth or will I take another one ?
On my way I chanced upon two springs
Gurgling with fresh and clean water
They drenched me in their abundance
Embraced me with pure innocence
 Along the path I saw red gulmohur tree
Inviting me to just be with him
 Not to think about life or the path ahead
Luring me with its passionate flowers
Blinding me with riot of colours
I falter ,I laugh ,I am full of mirth
 I forget the long journey
Then like lightning it strikes me again
I walk away,drifting away from the momentary lapse
 I stretch out my legs , mustering courage To cover that path ,
on my own, nothing with me ,
No rose apple tree, no gulmohur
Only unending stretch of dry leaves and yellow grass
 To behold , strive, walk as long as I can
As long as my legs will carry me ,
As long as my breath will agree with me,
 As long as I can keep the candle inside me ,
Alive and aglow !

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

The lost lantern days....

Long long ago , amidst the flickering dim light of a sole lantern, which precariously hung on the verandah I followed her word by word, her strong and determined voice, revising her days lessons, her hand deftly drawing the triangles of geometry mesmerized me to no end. The gleaming silver paper with which she covered her note books reflected the yellow pale light of the lantern, accentuated by the pitch darkness around us. Me in my little red frock, bent over my wooden bordered slate with milky white slate pencils in my hand imitated her, her seriousness and tried becoming like her.

During the day when I went to the tiny little school, if you may call it so, it was a make shift room, made up with coconut leaves and bamboo sticks, the old ‘ashan’ or master made the kids , me and many like me write Malayalam alphapets on the white shiney sand which was spread on the dark brown earth of the makeshift room, each one of us was made to write with our forefinger on the sand , the ‘Ashan’ held our tiny hands to make us write the complicated, rounded exotic alphabets, but the effect was so deep and so impactful that till date that very feeling of my forefinger on the sand following the shape of the alphabets has never left me and I shall in my life never forget those alphabets, that sand, that makeshift school and the old ‘Ashan’. Well it was here that I also tried to be like you , to be ahead of everybody, to recite the countings, to be the first one to finish all the tasks, but I failed, miserably.

There is something which I drastically lack in me, I don’t think it is about smooth talking, good listening, is it about being too bossy I do not know, but every time I fail, I languish in self pity, I feel like that lantern which though used to give us the much needed light in the pitch darkness but we always longed for electricity and the electric light which we could see as a dot in the castle like house across the paddy field, across the railway line .. we always undermined the importance of the lantern and me and her always looked longingly across the railway line at the dot of light , making the lantern fail, fail miserably… well coming back to her.. she was the anchor , the much needed laughter and the warm blanket of affection which carried many a tale of my secrets, sometime crushes, sometime forbidden novels and sometimes just a good cry on her lap …even a day before my wedding day I cried my heart out on her lap, feeling happy and sad and sadder on the thought of going away…. I was like an extended body part of hers, more like a tail which hung behind her , everywhere she went. In those lantern days whenever her teenage friends visited and she used to take long rounds of the house along with her friend I used to follow her at a safe but annoying distance trying to catch a word or two of the whispering talks they used to have, irritating her to no end.

I used to wait on the mound of orange gravel heaped on the side of the house jumping on it , sliding on it , sometimes looking at the brown and black bodied red eyed bird which used to visit us regularly , which used to perch itself on the lowest branch of huge and tall wild jack tree. Finally having exhausted all my options , I used to get hold of the old magazines kept in a cracked wooden shelf, the magazines had an old ,enchanting smell, the smell of old paper, though I could not read much, it helped me wile away time till she came back from school, and we could have our rice and heavenly fish curry made by my grandmother, expertly.

Then after a long , eventful life of being her extended body part, her tail, her baby, her friend, then a partner in crime, a secret keeper, a confider , I walked away just like that with the help of my mouth which mouthed angry, hurt words and threw it at her venomously, all because of some sinfully young and adept charmer of a young one in the family, who daintily smoothened her fragrant lacy skirt and sat in my place, yes, my place which was right there, in her heart and believe me it hurt and it still hurts like hell , I feel like a rudder less boat swaying in the current of times, I long for the warm blanket , I go back to our lantern days and my obsession of imitating her.. I do not know what is wrong with me at this ripe age of wrong side of thirty.. am I becoming the little girl in red frock bent upon her slate with white slate pencils and trying hard to be like her making round alphabets on the white shiney sand.. I do not know.. I do not know…….but I do feel lonely and clueless so unlike the age I am in… I long for the laughters, the loud voices of our talks , the low whishpers of ours which will never happen now …never…

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

A Tag for my silent readers...

A HUGE thanks to Deeps (http://www.deepsspeakingup.wordpress.com/)
for tagging me and giving me the 'Versatile blogger award'. Well first things first the rules of the tag is as below

 Add the Versatile Blogger Award picture to your Blog Post
 Thank the Blogger who nominated you
 Share 7 Random things about yourself
 Nominate 15 fellow Bloggers
 Inform the Bloggers of their nomination

1. Ummm well let me tell you here that I am a random person with actually random interests at random times..well I want to learn french, learn crocheting, sometimes I want to travel and sometimes I am dying to get into gardening and I am doing none of these..

2. I can read and write really fast and when I was in school/ college I used to write so fast that sometimes after giving the exams , waiting outside for my friends for hours together, I used to feel that may be after all 'did I really attempt all the questions'?

3. I love writing .. I want to write like Chitra Banerjee, Anita Nair, Elizabeth Gilbert, Arundhati Roy , I want to sound like Ruskin bond, but I do not seem to be getting around anywhere.. what with not even 60 posts in more than 3 years.. hmmm..

4. I fear of sounding too meloncholic sometimes because of which most of my posts are in the 'draft' folder rather than in the 'published' folder.

5. I love exercising..welll at least I think I do ;) .. but I never ever get the time to do it and if at all I do .. I end up doing it maximum for a week..

6. I am an avid blog hopper and most of the times.. I leave a comment too.. though I hardly get any on mine.. and those who visit are mostly with 'No comments' policy :)

7. I really did not know so many random things about myself till the time I actually sat down to do this tag.. well tags are real fun and eye openers for random stuff about self ;)

Well till step 3 it was easy, but honestly I do not have a list of 15 bloggers,so please .. my silent readers, my friends, you are all tagged here so please get going..

Monday, January 23, 2012

To my heart's mirror image - with love

More than two decades back , I was you
Even now I have some little of you left in me
I had the same need for hugs and kisses
The same insecurity , the same urge to impress my mother
The same love hate relationship with my sister
But I am so glad that you are so much better than me
You love your sister and express it often
More than I ever did to mine
You can hug and kiss and let your emotions show
That is so much of what I always wanted to do
I am so sorry if I am not the mother you want me to be
I am so sorry for not being able to be with you always
When you need me badly for a hug or just to be there
Your birthday just went by
But you were such a sweet baby
You did not make a hue and cry for party or friends
You Just let it go with much ado
Happy with a dress and a chocolate cake
So unlike children of your age
I love you so much and I feel for you so much
You innocence and your love
Let it take you along and make you the most lovable person
And remember , I love you more than I can ever tell
And more than you will ever know
Happy tenth birthday my sweet heart – my first born, my darling daughter