the balancing act

To my heart's mirror image - with love

2012-01-23T21:04:00.000-08:00

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

No resolutions – only a prayer…..

2011-12-25T22:53:00.000-08:00

Life has strange ways of telling you things, teaching you lessons. When going through such lessons of life, the time seems to stretch beyond the horizon, never ending, everything else looks so normal and everyday that sometimes I wonder at the normalcy of things, such times looms large in front of the eyes and seems to never fade away. However, life has to go on, because you have to come above the bruises and harsh lessons and learn to let go and continue with life because that is what you need to do as per the need of the hour.

The last couple of years which went by, taught lessons after lessons, like , to learn to cope with loneliness, to learn to know that at the end you are your only best friend, you need to understand yourself better, you need to respect yourself and you need to justify your presence in this world, this year has taught me to mellow down drastically, to brace myself to make peace with situations, to try hard to rise above theory and to be practical, to try and force myself to change and at the same time to struggle to be myself..

So this year has no resolutions from my side only a prayer to the Lord Almighty to give strength to go through the tests of time….and to bestow peace and good health on my loved ones.........

Wishing a very Happy and peaceful New Year to all of you….

The dilemma

2011-11-21T03:35:00.000-08:00

I do not know what that Chinese author said about bringing up kids, whether Indians and Chinese parents are strict and self imposing but I know for sure that there is always the age old dilemma for a parent, whether Indian or Chinese, or any other nationality, when she is posed with the age old question ‘Mamma you love me more or her’??.

This is particularly about those parents who have two children whether same gender or not. This question is sure to pop up if not today then tomorrow, irrespective of the age gap between the two children. Like every parent I am also baffled by the question every time this is put in front of me, it grows two hands too large and long to stifle me and shut the life out of me because this is exactly how I used to torment my mother. Well, what goes around, comes around, so in all fairness I have to cringe and bear the question which both my daughters one by one pops to me time and again , and each time, I want to curl up and die, what else??

I have tried to analyse if I really love one child more than the other and I must accept here that though it is not about loving a child more but the younger one definitely gets a more softer and lovey dovey approach than the elder one, the elder one by default, every time has to be right and proper and do the sacrifice and be the patient one just because he or she is elder. No matter what but they will always remain the elder one and no matter what the younger one will always remain the young and naïve and shall be allowed all the concessions just because he or she is younger.

I have seen many homes where the elder child is always at the receiving end but I have not seen many elder children who are the sacrificing, patient type, they all give it back when the right opportunity comes, yes and fair enough ! (see the elder child in me staunchly supports this) . Well , let me quote an exception here, there was a friend of mine who was so caring and so forgiving so soft and and so loving towards her younger sister that I used to feel like a devil with two horns when I was with her and her sister and can you imagine she was younger than me and had such a stream of goodness in her. The guilt which I used to feel for all the bullying I did to my sister or all the complaints and accusations I hurled at my mother was at it’s height when I used to meet this friend of mine, the after effect was that I used to make an extra effort to be nice and good to my sister and mother but this 'extra effort ' was always short lived and as any after effect, it wore off quickly bringing me back to my whining , complaining self.

Well .. I digress.. so I have decided to tell my children to decide on their own about the answer to their question as to whom I love most.. because I am still not clear as to whom my mother loves the most !!!!!(sic)

for people like me

2011-10-31T03:06:00.000-07:00

For people like me who lose heart and patience and will this is a must read from Preeti Shenoy, Love your writings Preeti... thanks ....

http://justamotheroftwo.blogspot.com/

between hope and despair

2011-10-11T21:55:00.000-07:00

Somewhere between hope and despair
Lies the river of melancholy
Every one has to cross it alone
Sometimes there is a smouldering amber in the heart
But its covered with layers of holding back
Sometimes there is a lot to talk about
But the only soothing lifeline seems to be silence, and only silence…

In pursuit of blessings and positivity...

2011-09-29T04:12:00.000-07:00

More than two years now, life has been on a brink, edgy and not so pleasant and things got more chaotic since last month, this month has been a long one, a painful one, an unsettling one in the real sense. I long for peace of mind, long for a cosy home where I can unwind and be myself , long for the chattering of the kids, their fights, their play and dance everything that irked me before around a home has suddenly come rushing towards the heart and knocks at it to experience it all over again. Mind does somersaults and thinks of the worst things which can happen, doesn't settle on anything, not at work, not at reading and now that a new month is going to unfold and some truly religious days are here I pray to the Goddess , Maa Shakti to bless us with peace of mind, stability and lots of happiness and a home to warm our hearts...

And a special word to all the readers who come to my blog and do not leave a word, I do not mind your silence at all, even I am a blog hopper and not everytime I am in a mood to leave a comment, but I request all of you to leave behind your good wishes and positive vibes .. for we are truly in need of it.....

Shradhanjali

2011-09-18T23:10:00.000-07:00

Once in a lifetime you become lucky enough to meet someone who changes your life forever, for the better. Our beloved Chairman man was such a person in my life, he might not have ever realized while he graced this earth with his benign presence the kind of influence he had on many people’s lives. He passed away on Wednesday, September 14th,2011, evening, leaving us all grief stricken. When a few years ago he directly interviewed me and I had the privilege to report to him for a year, what I learned from him was attention to details, to be proactive and to have answers to all his questions which were always direct and in turn he always demanded a precise, to the point and direct answer, which made me know my work better. Just a glance from him was sufficient to put even the mightiest person in place, his sharp mind and Engineers logic made him superior to all and sundry, his tall and broad frame overshadowed most of the average people. Inspite of being on medication for the last two decades, he fought so many battles with his health and won, it was his sheer determination and will power which always brought him back to all of us with renewed vigour and vitality. However, this time we did not have luck on our side and he bid goodbye to us after being in hospital for over a week and fighting it out every day, but towards the end he had realized that the time was up and he himself with his own will left for his heavenly abode.

I am using this private space of mine to say thank you to him for making me whatever little I am today, and making my life better in so many ways with the way he shaped up my career, I also seek forgiveness from his soul for anything I have ever done inadvertently that ever made him unhappy or upset.

Dear Sir, Rest In Peace

just some thoughts

2011-07-18T00:53:00.000-07:00

Why is it that certain childhood memories never seem to fade away, no matter how many times I think about it or write about it or visualize it or go back in time.. I do not seem to get enough of it. I know I am on the wrong side of thirty but surely I have not reached an age where my life’s sequences have taken a tumbling and the bottom most has come to the top and vice versa. Not that I hate anything about my childhood ,at least not about the part which I spent in Kerala, with my grandparents, thinking about it makes me realize time and again that I am a loner, even those days I liked to sit alone with a book or my box full of toys playing alone. or just to loiter around the house or sit on the verandah and gaze at the green paddy fields which stretched beyond….
Even today when I am sitting amidst a crowd I feel alone.. I have friends but I always long for someone to whom I could talk freely, without being judged and somehow I always end up talking to myself and yearning to write it out to myself , to read and wallow in self pity later on.. what kind of a feeling is this.. I have no idea.. is it age.. but then age is just a number , I do not feel any different than what I felt 10 years ago.. may be it’s some loneliness streak in me..
When I was in 7th or 8th I was provided with thick rough books, which had yellow pages, more than doing my revisions and study and rough works in it , I used to fill it up with drawings and poems, which I never showed to any one, I read it again and again.. then some close friends came to read a few of them accidentally and they started demanding small little poems to be jotted on birthday cards which they had to gift to their parents or friends or boyfriends

The burning ambition to become a journalist was at its strongest during this time, but then fate took such twists and turns that the writings, the poems, the aspiring journalist disappeared somewhere, but did not die down, well I digress… every time the urge to write comes over me.. this feeling of loneliness also grips me and the words which pour out of this gives me satisfaction.. it make me long for that house amidst the paddy field beyond the railway line, with a small little temple at its backyard.. everytime I go to Kerala I have this immense desire to visit this place where I have absolutely no body to visit to , but it pulls me to it.. and I want to visit this place alone.. and … talk to myself and gaze into the paddy fields and beyond like I used to.. but I don not know, if this house exists any more.. any one lives there, or it still stands there alone.. for me to visit and dissolve into its loneliness…..

Ruskin Bond

2011-07-06T04:36:00.000-07:00

Just finished reading a collection of short stories of Ruskin Bond. He is such a natural and perfect writer, he takes you along on his trips through the hills, amidst the oak trees and deodar trees which he seems to love so much. The rains in the hills and the blue zig zag lightnings, the pine trees, the small ponds and the slippery roads after a good rain gives such a pretty picture of nature in its full glory for people like us who are always thirsty for greenery as we are living our lives in midst of concrete jungles.

How I wish I could lay hands on every single piece of literature written by him, just enjoy the books leisurely, imagining each scene described by him , understanding the simple, rustic characters in the book .

I have given the collection of short stories to my daughter to read, I hope she would enjoy it equally..

Rajdhani Ramblings…

2011-06-29T22:50:00.000-07:00

My first train journey was when I was 5 years old and traveled from a small sleepy village of South to the national capital of India decades ago and it was a first class travel, I remember it vaguely and I do not remember having come across any discomfort during the journey, and that was the only train journey which I remember and do not cringe….

After my first train journey, I traveled many times in train during vacations to get to down south, well, those journeys were terrible, for one we used to travel by general sleeper class, and I for one totally abstained my self from visiting the dirty toilets all the two and half days we had to sit in the train.. and believe me it was a tough job…then time fled I grew up , got married and started traveling in AC coach and in vain I thought we will have good facilities… it was not that bad.. but bad enough…

Then one fine day I traveled by Shatabdi to chandigarh and near by areas of Delhi, and was thrilled, not only did I like the short and sweet journeys.. I even could visit the toilet with out a scare..

And then I heard that Rajdhanis (Trains) were at par with Shatabdi’s service and cleanliness, so this vacation we took Bangalore Rajdhani from Delhi to Bangalore and to say that I was totally taken aback would be an understatement. The Train was plain dirty, the bed sheets which were given to us were having big stain marks , looked dirty and the blanket had at least a kilo of dust on it, I really thought my small children might get ill because of all this dirt. Then came the service of the food, tea was served only twice a day and that too the tea was pathetic, the sugar and tea tasted like saw dust., the meals were a welcome change and we really relished it but the moment we saw how they were arranging it and where all of us wanted to forget what we had eaten .. our seats where the first 3 seats just near the toilets and we saw these service guys dumping the trays of meal and even tea and snacks on the floor almost towards the toilet, though they had been provided with a large area near the toilet for this purpose, where they could have arranged it with out dumping it on the floor and scattering it near the toilet, it was an unsightly sight to see so much of food spilled near the toilets… argh.. We could have still managed all this if the service guys would have been a bit more cooperative and forthcoming, they looked angry and unhappy and did not like any questions being asked to them, did not like children it seemed and they looked dirty and unkempt.

An equally unkempt man used to come to clean the floors with a broom cum mop which belonged to the last century and he had a bottle of phenoil in his hand which he sprinkled on the floor and swoosh… everything was clean… supposedly.. and also there was at least a cupful of broken glass pieces on the window sill of our seats which was quite dangerous for the kids, we had to call this person specially to clean it, it seems no one had seen it while cleaning the train before the passengers board it.. The only time we saw a smile on the face of these service boys were when the came for ‘sevapani’ when we were about to get down at Bangalore…..

Wait.. the story doesn’t end here,, I had thought that New Delhi Railway station was the worst station I have ever seen.. with new sparkling exterior now it looks like a beautifully wrapped gift which has may be a dustbin inside it… well the corners near the stairs already has pan stains.. you can see cat sized rats feasting on all kinds of wastes on the tracks… the smell of urine and filth will make any body throw up then and there.. the amount of dirt on tracks including human excreta will put any ‘slumdog millionaire’ scene to shame.. It becomes difficult to have eye contact with the foreigners on the station , it makes me curl up and die.. thinking what they would be conjuring up about our cleanliness and hygiene standards….eekkksss….

Shockingly.. the same kind of dirt I saw on Bangalore Railway station, I had a misconception that south Indian Railway stations where much cleaner.. and yes one must give credit to Secunderabad station which looked clean and green with potted plants, clean floors and I even saw people spitting in to the ‘Use me’ bins… but Bangalore was an exception.. the tracks were in such a condition that I really had my sympathies for the cleaning staff who were struggling there.. the basement which takes us out of the station to the bus station.. is in dilapidated condition, with seepage, dirts and wastes and with unpleasant smells…

Would it be possible for us to ever come to the level of world class Railway service and Railway stations, it really breaks my heart when I think about the amount of tax we salaried people shell out every month after month year after year which supposedly goes in to building these services for us.. where does it actually go..??? why cant we get decent and hygienic , clean train travel.. good food.. clean stations.. service with a smile.. why cant we???

I am not blaming only the Government here, I am blaming each of us also who contribute to the filth on the stations, when it is clearly mentioned in every train lavatory not to use toilet when the train is stationary.. why cant we obey.. it ??? why oh why??? I Wish one day we would also have world class travel arrangements in our country especially with regard to Train travel and maintenance and cleanliess on Railway stations…..

I wish.. I wish.. I really really wish…..for all of us…..

Jai Hind

Please dont be judgmental

2011-04-11T01:25:00.000-07:00

“Why some people have it easy without having to choose, while others suffer no matter how hard they try to make it better is beyond me”

These are the words of a financially independent but emotionally scarred and vulnerable woman who wrote on IHMs blog and there was a plethora of people advising, sympathising, empathising, admonishing. Well, the easiest job one can ever dream of is advising others, and asking innumerable, hard hitting questions. It is very well taken that all these questions are asked in allegiance, as in showing a solidarity to the victims suffering. But as this girl rightly asks above, some people has it easy and some people never make it inspite of trying hard till they crumble and wither away. Not every woman is born with the power to resist domestic violence or to revolt against the daily sufferings, for every bold decision taken by a woman it has to have to the support of three things, all together or just one of it would suffice and that is Money, education, family support. A woman who is not lucky enough sometimes is deprived of all the three.. I have personally seen very own blood relatives walking away from ghastly scenes of domestic violence without an iota of resistance, rebellion, questioning or even plain sympathy because a show of sympathy might lead to lending out a helping hand or finances or just a shelter for a few nights.

The best thing a woman who is neither educated nor well off and does not have family support does as per her own sensibilities is to suffer and sacrifice for her children, the children also suffers the trauma… life goes on ever so slowly till the time these children are on their own and find their own share of earth in this universe and then they try to break away and try to save their mother .. but then by the time she has her own children and for them she can not think of rotting her life in prison for killing the person who ruined her and her mothers life .. so people just let her be… just let her be in peace.. please do not be judgemental..she wrote it for her own comfort , to confide and breathe easy to take off the burden .. not for any of this , that’s what I presume. God has been so kind to many of us that you or me may not know the intensity or depth of such sufferings.. so please let her be….

And yes a man does not have to be mentally imbalanced to get his whole family suffer through domestic violence, it is one of the many reasons…..

a leaf from the past

2011-04-06T23:57:00.000-07:00

Long ago in a faraway place
Loneliness crowded around
It stifled on the two stairs
It teased the jasmine flowers
And it cornered and huddled
Around a tall coconut tree
Bearing orange coconuts
Tender and attractive
Hot wind blew below it
And the sleepy afternoon bled green
The pineapple bushes swayed
Light tender parrot green
Spread on to the paddy field
Across the paddy field
Lay the railway line
Bringing along a goods train
Sometimes coughing sometimes running
And the odd passenger train
Brought along a bounty of colours
Brown of the train, colours of the clothes
Of the strangers who waved from afar
Happy and sad , may be at a reunion
Or a separation
Bringing along a tinge of excitement
And a flurry of hands waving
Stopping midway of planting saplings
Or mending the field
As dusk falls, lanterns glow a burnt yellow
Lamps adorn the front yard
Bells of cycles fade away
Croaking of frogs building into a crescendo
Pitch darkens envelopes the well and the surroundings
A lone tortoise slowly drags itself
With the pain of a candle lit on its shell
By some cruel naughty boys
Sound of chants and prayers of the evening prayer fills the air
Driving the loneliness across the paddy field
Along the railway line
On to some unknown destination
Only to return the next sleepy afternoon

void

2011-04-06T21:35:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I yearn to shrink into nothingess
To become a void, non existent
Or to become something or somebody
Who can pretend not to be there
Just let things go by just as it is
Not to ponder, not to ruminate, not to plan
And not to feel good or bad
Not to wallow in self pity and not to shine
In a self induced halo
Where is the balancing act
Has it disappeared or is it a very difficult task
I do not know, I just wish to disappear
Into nothingess or let something cover me up
From head to toe and block my ears
Seal my eyes and ask that heart to stop
Just stop pinning up hopes, holding on to broken things
Hanging on to a thread , yet daring to look below
To frightening gorges and dark deep valleys
And looking above, finding nothing,
Only scattered blue and white
Sometimes turning into monstrous grey
Will power, what is that, is that a myth
Or just a concocted story
Made up by people who had to go through
Hell and never look at hope and still could never
Shrink, shrink back to nothingness
Could never yearn for the warmth and innocence of
Those days in the womb
What about those to whom you gave shelter
Of your womb and then should they be left to fend for the light
Do not know, sometimes it is raining hard , opaque and dark
Sometimes lightning strikes
Sun shines bright then disappears into the wood
Or the roaring ocean engulfs it, not even a glimpse visible to the eyes
What is it.. what does it take to control
And dissolve and disappear into a void
Or just shrink.. shrink into nothingness

straight from a daughter's heart

2011-03-08T01:42:00.000-08:00

Some warm homes resonate with laughter
Warmed by a mothers care
And awakened by peals of a daughters laughter
Some homes remain dry
In anticipation of a son
Ignoring a daughter and her worth
They spend their years waiting
Talking, planning and hoarding sympathies
Looking yonder while ignoring the treasure on lap
The mother too weighed down by tradition,
Expectation and her own worth at stake
Mulls away her time waiting for the hour to arrive,
When a male child would adorn her crown
And make her life worthwhile

Is it you or me or all of them
Who have made this thorny way
Ignoring the steely determination of so many mothers
So many wives and so many sisters
Who provide for their children, their husband and their brother
So many daughters flocking to their parents in old age
Providing for them, loving them and being with them

Every day you are eve teased,
Sometimes raped, sometimes murdered
Put in a bag or pushed from a train
Hungry eyes tear you apart
Lonely nights lurking in pain
but still the next day
you wake up to life and brave the rain

Let us shed the tradition
Toss away the indecision
Let us be ourselves
Pursue our passion
Love our sons, and our daughters
Our brothers, and our sisters
And hug our mother and tell her
It’s okay not having a son,
Laugh and forget your pain
I am there, I am your daughter , I am your son
I shall be there with you in shade and sun
All through the valleys and the gorges
I shall hold your hand
And I shall fight my own battles
With my will power
My education
My self respect and my love for you
And above all your love for me..

Freezing moment

2011-01-27T23:41:00.001-08:00

Freezing moment

This happened almost a year back. During my daily commute to office along with my colleague in his vehicle I used to see some daily sights and people, who became a daily part of the 50 minutes drive to office. One of the sights was of a beggar woman along with her old mother (seemed like) and two little children , one a girl of almost 4 years and the little boy was always on her hip and he was almost 1. I used to see her at the traffic light every day, and it seemed she slept on the nearby pavement, this was a busy road and by the time we reached the spot, we used to see her begging for some money and then bringing tea and biscuits for her mother and children, by the look of the pavement and things strewn around there I could make out that she lived there itself, maybe. I was really upset to see her everyday in this condition, her clothes were torn and tattered, the boy did not have any clothes below his waist, the little girl also wore a torn frock, the mother was also in rags.

This sight of this hapless woman, in her prime youth, struggling with life to sustain an old woman and two kids disturbed me a lot. Every day as we passed by this traffic light , I used to discuss with my colleague about how I felt, and then we left it at that. But since it was our daily route and this was a daily thing, my mornings started becoming disturbed and upset, I wanted to do something desperately for this woman , especially for the children and the old woman. The weather was about to change, there was already a nip in the air, the plight of the children was unbearable. One day I took out all the clothes of my children and mine which we had stopped using or was about to discard, some were brand new but my younger one could not wear it because she had outgrown it. I made a huge bundle of all the clothes, I took out some good salwar suits which I could give to her. I discussed with my husband and then my colleague about wanting to give this to this woman, with my colleague, because after all I had to use his car to carry this huge bundle. For a good 4 days this bundle was kept in his car but could not be given to her as she had just disappeared, or sometimes she was on the other side of the road and because the location was such that we could not stop the car and wait for her to come to our side.

Finally one day, we started a bit early and caught her sitting sleepily by the side of her children on the pavement, I called her from the car, she came running, suddenly from nowhere two or three other girls also followed, these girls were younger than her, in same kind of attire, but I had never seen them early. They came to the car window and said, paisa de do, when I said paisa nahi hai, kapde le lo, her face fell she turned back , the other girls asked for food, I said I will get it for you next time, you keep the clothes and give it to her. They went after her and she came back to the car, she took the bundle hesitantly, I asked her to give the kid clothes to her boy and girl, she looked at me blankly. There was no feeling on her face,no happiness, no excitement, nothing. She took the bundle and walked back.

Next day, I was excited to go to office, so that I can see her and the kids wearing those clothes, at least they would be protected from the cold, I thought. Again I was disappointed, I could not see her, no sign of any one. After two days I saw her in the same tattered clothes, her boy was wearing a t-shirt which I had given , but she was in the same tattered clothes, so was her daughter and mother. Next day came the big jolt, I saw all the clothes which I had given to her, well most of them, strewn on the street , well not strewn, thrown on the streets !! This moment was freezed in my mind !

I was taken aback, well jolted at this you can say, but my colleague told me “nothing surprising about this, tell me how will she succeed in begging if she wears such nice clothes, no one will give her or any of her family any alms , so what will she do with the clothes, it is of no use to her, it is only a deterrent for her daily earnings, so she had only one option and that is to throw it away” !!!! He had warned me of this earlier, giving the same logic, but I did not consider it and when it actually happened I was totally shaken.

I know she wants money and food only, I did not know what to do , I was not in a position to feed four of them everyday , or even if I fed them, I could not do it for long.. This whole episode, the sight of clothes thrown on the streets brought in two entirely opposite emotions in me, anger on one hand that she did not keep the clothers to atleast protect her children and mother if not for herself , sympathy and helplessness on the other on the supposed reason behind this act, I was at a loss of words and wit!!

NB: This is also my post for the Indibloggers 'close up fire and Freeze Contest'. You can also post your story on

http://www.facebook.com/closeupindia

or put as comment on this post.

Time does wonders

2011-01-24T03:52:00.000-08:00

Time does wonders. It mellows down people, it hardens hearts, it brings dreams crashing down, it pushes hopes soaring high, it brings life to grinding halt, but it never stops and never looks back.

It is me and you who are caught up in the sands of time who travels down the memory lane or builds castles in the air about a few years into future, it is so funny but the speed of time , whether it is going fast or is crawling by, totally depends on the situation we are in , when we are happy time flies, when we are sad time just hovers around refusing to move.

All those happy days in school and college when we had no care in the world seems to have zoomed past, the courtship days filled with rosy excitement and sweetness of chocolate on every meeting has just disappeared so fast.

When the day of marriage dawned it filled the tummy with rainbow coloured butterflies, by the evening the fragrance of jasmine filled the air, time whizzed past and now on this day of my twelfth wedding anniversary I wish time would slow down and let me smell the jasmine and the roses , let me look at my wedding sari lovingly , let me relive those rainbow coloured butterflies , admire the turmeric stained white thread which embraced my neck so lightly but so beautifully with the pendant of love on it... oh .. how time flies..sometimes stops..and sometimes pushes us back into a whirlwind of emotions…Time does wonders..

2011-01-12T21:34:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday to my daughter

The wails got louder
As the nurse bathed you
9 years ago
It was a cloudy, cold day
And the new born you resisted the bath your own way

I gathered you in my arms
Kept you close to me
It felt so strange having to look after ,
A frail little baby depended so much on me
I was scared to take you in my arms
You looked so red and so angry
That you had to come out early
My stitches hurt and I was tired
All I wanted was to sleep some more
But you wanted so much of attention

Now you have grown up baby
You have your own likes and dislikes
Sometimes you are so funny
You like to read only when you are in the mood
You write well and you remember your lessons so well
Only you want to play some more
And also to watch tv some more
Especially Barbie and her stories

You have grown so tall
And you look so beautiful
Your hair is much longer than mine
And I am so proud of you
Soon you would become a little lady
Beautiful and graceful
Soon I ‘d be graying and aging
But I shall see my own reflection in you
You look like your father but you are so much like me
In a few years from now you shall be on your own
A few years from now you shall be gone
May be for study or work ,may be with the love of your life
Then this mother shall await your visits by the door step
Just to hug you and look at you long
I will wait by the phone for you to call me
And update me on your happy life
Tears well up thinking of you being away from me
Today on your birthday I wish you love, luck and laughter baby, all along..

Today on your birthday ,
I wish you so much love
And so much blessings
That it would last you your whole life
You shall never be short of good luck,
Good friends and a warm hearth
These are my wishes for you today
I Love you my daughter ... happy birthday

Happy New Year !!

2010-12-30T20:11:00.000-08:00

Heres wishing all my blogger friends a very very happy, prosperous and blessed New Year !!

Last year I had made many resolutions, and what usually happens to New year resolutions happened to mine also. Could not put leash on my tongue, could not keep the lid of patience on for too long and goofed up big time on many things !! Well that is life, and it teaches us many lessons some way or the other. So I have decided not to make any resolutions for the coming year and to flow with the current.. just hoping that the current will be a positive one , a smooth one and shall take me and my loved ones to the right shore !!

Warm regards and best wishes once again!! 2011 here we come!!!

Far away....

2010-12-02T21:52:00.000-08:00

The whole being shivered, glowed ,
Exploded into a multitude of colourful hues,
it became invisible in a matter of seconds
Leaving behind a golden sand
That speckled on to the heart
And then settled on some corners
Happy and then weeping, weighed down by emotions
Away from the world , away from life
Away , far far away…
Not to come back , not to let the magic on
And just life be, the way it was….

realisation

2010-11-21T23:33:00.000-08:00

The screaming of my mother till echoes in my head !! The rain was pouring down, we were scrambling for cover from our one roomed quarter to the lofty bungalow , my little sister, the newborn baby was in my mothers arms, my arm was full of a load of baby clothes , while running for cover some clothes accidentally fell to the nearby drainage and went floating away .. the scream was for that.. I was only 8 and was hurt.. was not mature enough to understand the value of those clothes that the drain had carried away with it. The clothes were imported soft muslin clothes for the baby, of course they were hands me downs, but were so much required for the little new born. All that remained etched in my memory was the angry scream that was directed at me.. it lived inside me for quite sometime, it made me feel guilty then angry and then lonely.

I always longed for my mother to hold me tight, to love me and pamper me, but she never did.. of course she had her own reasons , very strong one at that . but at the same time I saw her cuddling my sister, loving her, saying sweet nothings to her it felt bad…very very bad..I could not understand at that time that it was but natural to cuddle a little baby and pamper it.. after all I was 8 years older and was old enough to understand, but unfortunately I never did.. I held the grudge in my mind.. I considered myself unfortunate .. I even complained to my teachers that my mother is always busy with the little baby..she does not love me.

I am sure this feeling remained with me throughout, even when I got married, even when I became a mother..but it dawned upon me, the truth of it, the essence of it and the crux of it when my second child was born, my second baby is 6 years younger to my elder one, this baby made me realize that no mother does it deliberately. Fortunately I do not have the kind of problems to face which my mother had..but still I notice that pampering the younger one comes easy to me, it is not that I do not love my elder one, I love her more than any body, but from her I have certain expectations, that she should behave in a certain way, that she should understand and like wise, I don’t know if this expectations stems just from the fact that she is the older one, I can’t see any other reason.

But the younger one, I hold her instantly, cuddle her, pamper her , I snap less at her and even if she does something naughty the scolding goes to the elder one. I hate it , absolutely so when I do this, because I know exactly what is going on in my elder child’s heart, things like this would get etched in her mind also just like some are etched in my memory.. I try hard not to do it but it happens, I try hard to cuddle her but then she does something which makes me snap at her or scold her, but every time I do it I cringe inside, every word I say reflects my own sorrow, every time I ask her to study instead of sitting and talking to me I know I am not right.. I do not want my daughter to have the same heart burn which I suffered all those years. Till I my self became a mother the second time around.

I feel guilty now for all the ill feelings I had for my mother all those years.. it is indeed an exemplary thing that inspite of such huge problems in life she still managed to love us, show us her love, and care for us. I feel belittled that me being more educated, more aware, did not realize this earlier in life, and kept feeling uneasy the whole life rather than feeling good and blessed about it.

Somehow this whole thing proves that child is the father of man.. truly and amazingly yes.. my children taught me the truth which eluded me all these years.. and I am constantly striving not to make any such memories for my first born which will make her suffer the way I did, I constantly and consciously try everyday to make her feel loved and wanted.. forever..

Nothing

2010-11-16T02:04:00.000-08:00

When dry brown leaves rustled up during the wind, I looked back just thinking, just hoping to find a friend behind me. There was no one and nothing apart from the winds rustling up the leaves and birds chirping on the trees, the muddy path astrewn with small yellow and pink flowers and wild berries red and ripe. Such scenic beauty should have made me serene and happy with myself, drinking in the beautiful surroundings and lapping up natures abundant greenery. But all that I could think of was how lonely I was, it is true that I love solitude, but it is not what I crave for always, it is only one fondness of mine, not an obsession, but it starts to eat me up, corroding me from the insides of my heart, when I long to just chat , to be just heard, not seeking any advise, not asking for any favour, not looking for sympathy, only looking for sheer , pure understanding. It is said that friends , real friends, best of friends can go with out speaking to each other for years and connect back instantly as if they met only yesterday. I must admit , I have no such friends, I thought I had, but actually no, and all my friends are wonderful, they are very good, but it is me I am sure who does not win such warmth from my friends,it is my dry nature, or too much of expectations or may be something unknown to me, which makes me unworthy of such intense and deep friendships. Where someone believes you completely, criticizes you honestly, trusts you blindly, someone who listens to you without being judgmental, where you do not need to prove yourself, you can cry till you laugh, and laugh till you cry with such a friend. I envy those who have such friends, I know I sound like a 13 year old, confused and disappointed, but I actually feel this way now and so much so that I am writing it down to vent out my feelings . I am not looking for answers, they are all within me, I am looking to leave this aside and carry on.. with life.. which is sometimes unfair.. sometimes mean and sometimes keeps tempting.. then teasing.. then just disappears round the corner. Yes.. the brown leaves and the wind and the nature , the cold wind everything is evaporating into thin air.. leaving me out here .. to find my own answers ..to introspect and to just let go… Ye. I am not making sense.. but then sometimes life and feelings are such that it does not make sense.. sometimes.

Stage fright

2010-10-11T04:41:00.000-07:00

I was in 9th standard and had already learned how to be a part of the ‘behind the scene’ activities, I was always involved in the school activities but not for the ones which would give me those ‘round of applause’ or the oohs and aahs… but I was always sitting in a corner drawing or painting a background scene or a decorative piece to adorn the ‘farewell stage’ or may be writing out the ‘titles’ for the Ms. Beautiful or Mr. All rounder. By now you must have guessed that I suffered from the biggest fear of any shy child in a school and that is the ‘stage fright’…so ok where was I ,… yeah I was in the 9th standard and as usual I was happy participating in the ‘Essay writing ‘ competition and the ‘painting competition’ and was comfortably chatting away with my class mates when our very own ‘Deeps ( Perceptions)’ mother, my dearest and most beloved teacher, Mrs. Kumar, caught me by the ear (lovingly) and asked me to participate in the Malayalam poetry recitation competition.. my God.. I could not refuse her.. she was my anchor.. she knew me inside out.. knew my strengths and weaknesses.. and she wanted me to do it..

But only I knew one thing that how scared I was to get to that place called the ‘stage’.. I was all respect and awe and that unknown teenage feeling for all those who could stand straight on the stage, face the sea of faces (some of them mocking you, laughing at you and some giving you the royal ignore ) still you stand your ground and deliver the speech. Well.. the gist is that I had to say yes to my teacher and when the D Day came.. first on stage was the hero of the school.. who was sure to win every competition he participated in. he spoke with such ease and élan that you would think he was born to rule the stage.. then came the best performer of our class .. she was so good in everything.. and yes even for this competition she was going to be very good.. then another person who was also equally good.. to my shock I discovered that there were only 4 participants.. and then I comforted myself that I might get the 4th prize after all.

The first 2 participants concluded their recitations with such grace that they got applause with aplomb…hmmm.. then came my turn and I felt as if I had legs made of heavyweight rubber.. and I had no control over them.. I was sweating profusely… some how I dragged myself on to the stage.. I saw a sea of blue and grey uniforms.. faces.. so many.. I thought I would drown in that ocean.. I stood there numb… my mouth parched and dry.. my tongue felt like a piece of wood inside my mouth.. capable of nothing.. leave aside this ‘recitation’.. Then after what seemed like centuries standing there facing a sea of faces.. I forced my self to recite.. and all I could hear was a croak …a mumle..jumble ..nothing thereafter.. I could hear the laughter.. the jeers.. could see some weary faces.. I came back from the stage.. I could hear a solitary clap somewhere.. maybe my best friend.. I thought!!.. well I could not face my teacher.. she had so much expectations from me..but she was also someone who understood. And then the prizes were announced.. guess what.. obviously.. there was no 4th prize… !!!

This trend continued throughout school, then college, then I joined a PSU worked their for more than 7 years, in between I had to speak in meetings (mostly sitting at the allotted space and reading out data) and that too amongst our own team who were buddies , all of them.. of course except the Big boss.. and yes.. I also spoke aggressively and vehemently during the con.. calls  but on ‘a stage’.. never..ever until one day I was transferred to the region from the Corporate and my Boss changed.. I had someone very young and who was like a friend .. and then I went with him for Campus recruitment and while we entered the auditorium.. it had close to 300 odd people (students and faculty) sitting as audience ..I was nervous even to sit on the dais but then I thought.. ‘What the heck .. lemme enjoy my self while my boss makes the presentation.” But guys the enjoyment was short lived.. it felt as if I heard my name being announced.. yess… yess it was my name.. alright.. and it was my boss who was calling out my name.. he said so now… Ms. So and So will start with the ppt.. and I felt I was going to have a stroke.. or may be the earth will just crack and swallow me and never let me go. Rest everything happened in a haze, I remember standing up and looking at my boss as if I would eat him up and then as if I was begging for my life from him (this is the description which he gave later)…Yes.. I gave the ppt. I read it out.. I stopped.. I missed out on lines.. I stammered a bit.. but I carried it through.. 25 slides in all… I could not believe it.. and yes people applauded too.. loudly….(may be because I was there to do the Campus placements… whatever… but they applauded… for me)

And guys since then there has been no looking back.. I had gone for numerous Campuses after that.. conducted many Induction programmes.. and such like and all thanks to one person who pushed me into the water and left me at that.. I had no other way but to fight for life and swim to the shore.

I keep on encouraging my daughter to participate in everything at school, not just the ‘behind the scenes’ but also in those events where she has to be on stage and face an audience.. Whether she wins a prize is immaterial.. because this is the ground where she gets trained to stand her ground to face the sea of faces.. or other wise the applause will elude till the time may be luck gives you a chance meeting with such wonderful people..

what about you.. do you suffer from stage fright.. did you ever have stage fright .. or are you the charmer on the stage with ease and élan???

just once again

2010-09-16T23:26:00.000-07:00

Was it you who brought along the change,
to Grow overnight ,clutching on to a dream,
Vast reams of mute emotions spread around,
Nothing was there to lean on to
Two hearts intertwined
one bled and the other silent

The cold steel cut through
Making a scar for life
The thought of you wells up in eyes,
could only feel you
Never knew you but when you left
heart shattered and changed forever

Was it you who paved way for the change
To cringe at the thought of it now
To feel guilty all life
To yearn for you still and feel pain

the soul walks back into time
Shakes up the whole being
Stares blankly at the tears
Showing ,there are precious little things
Strewn around the sands of time
which can not be brought back
From past, from guilt and from life ever

Yes it is you who made me change
I promise I will take you
May be not in this life
I’d take a next life just for you ,
And Endure and wait once again,
Shall Love and cherish with warmth,
For you to come back
once again.. just once again

Amme Narayana

2010-06-28T04:36:00.001-07:00

In the darkness of the dawn
The diety stood beautiful
Tears rolled down on to old rough cheeks
Some Shiney kohl eyes were red rimmed

The strength of prayer
The majestic aura of her idol
Filled energy onto the drained mind
Sowing seeds of hope
On to tired barren hearts

The aroma of jasmine
the fragrance of camphor and incense
The soft soothing rays of rising sun
The devotees reveled in the divinity,
the serenity and the purity
of her shimmering face and divine eyes

2010-06-28T04:13:00.000-07:00

Its pretty odd !How time turns itself upside down, head over heels making one meet the same angst which one dusted off ones soul long back. But then this is why life is life and time is mysterious, it can make you laugh, cry, yearn , love and hate from the core.

While traveling through lanes of time there have been times like this when I wanted to stretch out far ahead and reach out for those years , may be , stored somewhere in the pages of future which will spill out feathers of white peace and flowers of yellow happiness all around.
Rushing out and running through this time phase I just want to erase out the unsoulful sands below my feet and find a way out from this existence, if I look harder I would find a small window opening on to the blank horizon .. may be !!!

Standing amidst a lush green paddy field under a bright blue sky I wish I could freeze in time forever.. forever….

Women

2010-03-08T02:13:00.000-08:00

Every single day, I adorn different hats, I am a busy mother early in the morning, I am bursting out of time when I board my office vehicle, till late into the evening I am the busy professional, but I steal moments to hover on my darling kids and my parents. I also borrow some precious moments to find out whether my better half has eaten , has he reached office, is he doing fine. By the time I am back to being a mother and a wife late into the evening, some test, some homework some hugs and kisses and some jumping around greets my tired self.

Yes I am a woman and every single day is a celebration for me for all the blessings of Lord Almighty who let me have the grit to go through the grind everyday, who gave me the strength to bear the labour pain, who gave me the ease to effortlessly support my parents, who gave me the will power to have a spine of steel to hold my spouses hand tight through thick and thin, every day I am thankful to God for having given me the strength and the patience only a woman can have !!

But I truly wish life would be easier for my daughters, this world would be kinder to them, they shall be spared the stares and the wolf whistles, I wish I could be at peace when they shall be late to return home from work, I wish I would still be left with the will power to nurture them to be woman of grit and substance and excel in life.

That is the only thing I ask from the society today, especially the Indian Society to make the next generation sensitive towards the safety and respect of women, It is in the hands of every mother and father who has a child to rear, to instill these values, whether you have a daughter or a son , the value of respect and care towards others has to be instilled in them, so that we all strive for a better tomorrow. In turn this day March 08, Womens day actually becomes a day of celebration and gaiety and not a day when at the end of all celebrations we women are still facing the big questions of our safety and security on the streets, among colleagues , amidst crowds and even at our very home.

sorry

2010-02-05T02:26:00.000-08:00

It is really commendable, the way King Khan has said sorry to all and sundry but to the Thackerays. I only wish he would not buckle under pressure, also I hope this would not turn out to be another publicity stunt. But then If Mr. Khan supported the Pakistani cricket players, does it mean he is not an Indian anymore, that he should be given ‘Desh Nikala’???

What is it that is making the Thackerays so angry, what are they trying to prove here? How are they going to ensure that Mumbai would be inhabited by only Marathi Manoos and no other Indian would dare to tread there, especially if they belong to Bihar or the North of India. May be now the whole Thackeray clan would go on a rampage seeking introduction of visa and passport if someone other than Marathi wants to visit ‘their’ Mumbai!!

If they are so vehemently against Pakistan, then why did they not ensure, as they are the high and mighty, that Kasab meets with capital punishment at the earliest. Are they waiting for a sorry from him also before they let loose their ire against him.

I think all of us will have to say sorry to our next generation one day, for having stood as meek spectators to such unreasonable and high handed behaviour of some petty politicians. These incidents in one way or the other sow seeds of regionalism in unsuspecting young minds.

2010-02-05T01:26:00.000-08:00

2010-02-01T21:08:00.000-08:00

Take it up from 1411 – Save the Tiger

My daughter , who is in 2nd standard, is a very worried person for the last one week; she has been selected to enact a play on ‘Save the Tiger’ in her school. Now that is not what she is worried about, she has memorised the number 1411 which is the number of Tigers now remaining in India. She gets teary eyed when the television ad of a small little tiger cub, who seems lost and helpless without his mother appears on the TV. I can see the genuineness of the worry, her innocence and concern for the small cub, the resonating sound of gunshot in the ad made her say, ‘Mama his mother must have been killed’.

She now recounts our trip to Jim Corbett last summer wherein we had gone for a safari into the deep jungles of Jim Corbett for a fair amount of time , but could not see anything apart from some deers, monkeys and an elephant, now she knows why they were not to be seen.

She is looking forward to act in the play and wants to take her play to all the hunters who will see it and magically stop hunting Tigers for their skin!! I wish I could also have that kind of optimism in me, in spite of her concern and worry she is very sure that their play is going to save a lot of Tigers, and I too wish the same. I wish we the grown ups also had the same kind of genuineness of feeling and the same kind of optimism to do something, even the smallest effort will count, to increase this number (1411) or at least to retain it at that.

I am afraid whether my children will have to travel to a museum or flick through magazines and books, or rely on ‘Discovery channel ‘ or ‘National Geography’ channels to show their children what a ‘Tiger’ was, and how our Country had so many of them but we could not save them due to a few hungry hunters, poachers and corrupt people.

I wish and hope along with my child that our zoos and forest reserves and all of us Indians will really rally together and preserve these precious creatures , our national animal , from becoming just a memory , framed photographs or ending up on the wall as a priced possession at a shikaris mansion.

Let us ‘Save the Tiger’.. let us save our National Animal and let him roar away to long life, lots of off springs and a green forest to reign over…………

for my darling baby

2010-01-13T02:17:00.000-08:00

8 years ago , on this very day
on a chilly winter morning
My lap was adorned with a frail little baby
My darling daughter
My first born who called me ‘mamma’
Me the mamma was born the same day
She is still the same sweet, stubborn and
innocent little girl
I wish her all the joys in the world
I wish her all the strength and endurance and smartness
to face this world successfully
I wish her the best of the world
I am thankful to God for having given me
A smiling, innocent and loving daughter
May be I don’t express my love often enough
May be I am a bit too strict
One day she would read these lines
And would know how much I loved you
My darling daughter
Happy birthday dear once again, May God bless you
with his choicest blessings today and always
HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY…….

From Mamma

New Year Resolutions - Not as usual

2009-12-30T04:35:00.000-08:00

Like everybody else around I am also busy in making New Year resolutions. I do not want to sound as if I am writing this for an audience. I am no longer in a mood to do things for an audience or for relatives, friends etc. For the last two years I have been absorbing many shocks, some of them where given by very good neighbours turned friends, finally turned stoic and now out of my life for good, this was in 2008, then dawned 2009 baring a few more bitter truths when very rock solid relations shriveled and was blown away by the winds of rough times. I was stunned to see it falling to dust and gone for good, only remains are some formalities and courtesies. Then came a stage when I replaced these relations with some new ones but I can sense something amiss. So I thought and thought and have now come to a conclusion that after all it is not possible that they were all wrong, it seems it was me who was wrong all the time. I could pin point with all my wisdom gathered about me that what broke the back every time was my, rather our, expectation all the time. So my New Year resolutions are……………….

1. Not to expect anything from any body, be it a friend, a relative, a colleague, a subordinate, my family, my spouse, my children. Not to expect reciprocation of feelings, gestures, goodwill, love , liking, respect, gifts, good wishes, emails , letters, cash, kind, good , bad or anything which I am forgetting to mention here.

2. To give priority to my husband, my children and my parents and my in laws and to my God above all, above everyone and above everything in this world.

3. To try and keep amicable relations with everyone, may be I have to grin and bear but then yes I have to, I have to, I have to.

4. To listen more and talk less, listen patiently and talk less, listen and only listen and stop the urge to react, over react, cut and dry.

5. To talk less, yes I have started admiring those people who have the talent to keep shut even in very adverse situations, I salute their ability to control their urge to lash out and keep their tongue on leash.

6. To respect all the relations irrespective of whether they do things as per our liking, they have liking for someone else, their affinity to something which we do not have affinity to. Only respect, it is not necessary that I have to keep on loving them, crying for them, cry because they do not behave the same way they used to etc. etc.

In hope of abiding by each one of them.. hoping and hoping..

Under the bottle brushed trees

2009-12-17T00:36:00.000-08:00

Dripping wet till its willowy bend,
Rippling circles on sparkling surface
Rain came pouring down
I saw a happy leaf talking to a gurgling stream
I smelled the soothing fragrance of rain
falling on to yearning earth
the sound of birds chirping away
and the sight of wild flowers lay strewn
under the bottle brushed trees
amidst dark clouds and gleaming lightning
squirrels scurried over to the hole in the Banyan tree
And I lay curled on a soft rug
warmed by the ambers in the Victorian fire place,
looking through the French window,
at the wet wild flowers
strewn under the bottle brushed trees

The year that was

2009-12-07T02:16:00.000-08:00

This year ,life was like that of a cliff hanger, well it still is, this has been the most uncertain year that ever could be. For more than a few months life is hanging in midair refusing to fly high or touch ground. May be this is exactly the reason that this year in many ways has been an eye opener, showing us the mirror and baring the truth, it took off the beautiful wrapping paper and showed us the real contents inside. Inspite of the uncertainties that it brought, this year also taught us some important lessons.

This year, more than once I found this thought at the back of my mind like a wall paper, that, our life is like a bubble, it may burst any time and till the time we have colours of rainbow reflecting from it and we are floating around in the horizon, everything is just fine, but it could be that we might just go pop in a matter of seconds.

I do not know why this thought keeps on recurring in my mind, may be there is something to learn from it, may be it is giving me the message to be patient, to listen more and if not able to forgive, at least to make me forget. I do not know , may be.

I am happy to reach the fag end of this year, just hoping to find lots to cherish round the corner. I Just want to dilute the bitterness with the sweet fragrance of freshly baked Christmas cakes, and the soulful spirit of the pious festival in the air. Just hoping to pick up some threads which snapped off midway, and to live and let live, hoping to see the new year show its bright face and light up all of us, our lives, with hope and cheer.

Disorderly pulse !!!

2009-10-26T02:12:00.000-07:00

I am really sorry here that I am going against a rule set by myself that I would not talk about my worklife here, but what to do??? certain things are forcing me to rant full force on my ‘ privilege page ‘ (my blog). So beware of full on rant before anyone ventures out to read it.

On Friday we moved to our new 100 crore , sprawling 9 floor tower ,newly set up and build by our own Engineers in the NCR region. When the tower was inaugurated I felt more proud than my Chairman himself because when I joined this company it had 80 odd people and a small , rented office with a capacity to seat that many people only. Slowly but steadily things started moving, then the slow pace was left behind , much behind and we were on a roller coaster ride , purely upwards on a growth so vigorous that we were there almost on all the floors of the 12 storied commercial building in a short while. Sorry I digress, this was not the growth story of my Company, this was a rant, err. is a rant.

From the day I shifted to our new tower on to our floor , to our cabinet, I was really really hurt and aghast the way people were ready with a sting and a bite to complain about everything they could lay their eyes on. Honestly , I did not find more than a couple of people who had praise or as much any appreciation for the design, or the seating or the facilities provided by the Company. I could see employees having at least one negative feedback for even the best of facility provided.

I am not saying that employees should not complain or give their feedback, but atleast a word of appreciation for the mammoth effort put in by the people involved in the project, the heart and dreams of a big man who is instrumental in providing such facilities to his employees are all so comfortably put behind them that they do not even bother to utter a single positive word. At home when we make do with one fan and a cooler or may be one AC in one bedroom only (applicable to normal middle class working people), but when in the office the AC functioning has some hiccups to start functioning, they crib, even in this month of October when there is already a nip in the air. When conveyance is provided from their doorstep till the office, it is not all that comfy for them because now they have to board the bus half an hour earlier than their usual routine, but they forget about the jostle and push they used to suffer in a chartered bus or a blue line earlier. That the lift is too slow !!, till yesterday they were competing with people of 12 floors in a commercial building and waiting at each floor for at least 5 minutes to get to their particular floor, sigh !!

I can go on and on about the complaints, some complaints can be considered as feedback on which the management can work and streamline things further, but most of them are thoughts which are unreasonable, not thought over, the only basis or yardstick for such thoughts are only their own notions of ‘comfort’ and ‘luxury’..

If you guys are thinking what I am thinking.. then no please .. I am not in the Administration department and nor am I the Engineer who designed the building. But , yes , I sit at a place which is known as the pulse of the organization and I was really disappointed and disturbed at the disorderly pulse of our employees…

Yeah.. one more information which I can recall for trying to calm my agitating mind is that one of our employees had a complaint after returning from an ‘all expenses paid by the Company family holiday, travel to Delhi –Goa –Delhi by Kingfisher flight , and boarding at cottages in Taj hotel, Goa’ —and it was like this "The hospitality of Taj was not Good"---- now that was the icing on the cake isn’t it ????

2009-10-13T04:14:00.000-07:00

Gratitude

I was walking barefoot along the river,
Pebbles criss crossed my path.
The river was a colour of light milky tea,
The grass on the river bank was damp.
I sat on the damp grass looking at a lone boat,
Silhouetted against the moonlight
It stirred in me the desire to slowly drown myself,
Into the cold caressing water,
the depth of the river sent ripples of fear in me.
I slowly stood up and smelled the lilies blooming near
Clutching on to myself I walked back,
To the wooden desk with a candle lit,
My hands intertwined, moonlight crept in and
I prayed
For letting me feel the pebbles under my feet,
For the damp grass and the moonlight,
For the cold and inviting water,
For four little hands and a strong shoulder
For my whole life and for whom I strive
I prayed
With teary eyes full of faith and gratitude

Waiting for the past

2009-09-15T23:11:00.000-07:00

I was four years old and waiting was so much fun those days. I used to wait on the doorstep for my grandfather to turn up after his work, he was a photographer by profession and used to work in a nearby studio at that point of time. I was his first and only grand daughter and was the apple of his eyes. Every evening when he returned home, he sure had a small packet made of newspaper which contained some delicacy or snack ‘palaharam’ , the sight of the packet , the smell of it and the glaze of oil on the paper were the main attraction for me. When he used to enter the house calling out my name, I jumped on to him , on his lap in a second and the packet would be mine. He would then sit down for his glass of tea, and some tea was served to me also , I would first concentrate on eating the snack , it might be ‘neyyappam’ or ‘unniyappan’, sometime a ‘pappada boli’ or a ‘madakkusa’ and the best days were when I got orange coloured , juicy jalebis.

Once the savoring was over , I would turn my whole attention to my daily task and that was to give all the detail about the days activity (s) to him, and the details did not cover only me , it was about everybody at home, what we ate, what we did the whole day, who came visiting, what fish did grandma buy for dinner , whether my aunts fought with each other or they fought with my grandma or me. All these details were passed on but not in public, it was poured out right into the ears of my grandpa, the ritual was that after finishing the palaharam, I would climb up on the table on which his glass of ‘chaya’ would be resting , I would bring his face towards my lap and then start full on whispering into his ears. Once the ritual was over, everybody was called one by one by grandpa, if any body had scolded me or denied me anything during the day they would be the first one to be summoned before the court and they would be given a big scolding by my grandpa, and I would be satisfied and proudly look at the lesser mortals who were getting thrashed for disturbing her highness.

My grandpa used to love me so much, I remember he was heartbroken when I boarded my train to Delhi at the age of five , later I learned that he had vowed that he would now never keep any of his grandchildren with him anymore as he could not bear even the thought of being separated from them. But as fate would have it I traveled back to my parents, and my grandpa was upset for months together. My mother told me that he had made plans to get me admitted in a school in Kerala itself, he wanted me to stay with him. Though he was very loving at the same time one raised voice from him or just a glare was enough for me to wet my pants and howl my heart out. I was scared of him at the same time I loved him and respected him to the hilt.

Many years later when things had changed a lot, he was in Delhi and was suffering , suffering a lot of pain, there was not a single male soul around to take him to the hospital, me and my Aunt used to take him every week to the hospital , on one such occasion , it was Holi, there was not an auto to be seen on the roads, there were hoards of guys on the roads who seemed to be hooligans, in spite of all these difficulties we went ahead, took him to the doctor , got him checked up, while holding our hands climbing the stairs in the hospital, with tears in his eyes my grandpa said ‘ who says daughters are weak, they are the strongest, they are better than any son”, of course he was referring to his only son ,( rest all are daughters) , who in spite of being in the same town did not ever call upon him, never bothered to even inquire about him. Till this day I cherish those words of his, like valuable pearls, they are stored away in a velvety corner of my heart. My grandpa passed away 16 years ago, while he was in his last moments, everyone was gathered around him , everyone asked me to give him water , I refused, because I believed that my grandpa will never leave me, he will bounce back , and he will be with us. Even after he passed away I was not able to accept it for some time.

When I go through the innumerable photographs of mine which he had taken during those days when I was with him in kerala, the time that was, the time captured on his camera lense, those photographs gives me the feeling of being transcended back in time, it makes me yearn to feel his presence and his endless love once again. I am waiting for such a moment again when I can feel his presence., his love so pure,. But now waiting is not fun anymore.

2009-08-21T03:47:00.000-07:00

My daily dose of Ordeal

I face a mammoth task daily, that of commuting from my home to office and coming back to home in the evenings…you may think .. how is it a mammoth task ? Okay let me tell you … this daily commuting form home to work and back.. it inevitably saps all my energy in the morning and leaves me dead tired in the evenings. It is my daily dose of ordeal… the huge traffic jams..thanks to innumerable projects of construction of flyover, grade separators, underpass etc etc.. which has to be completed before Commonwealth games in 2010.. this has given way to unending lines of vehicles.. honking incessantly… uncaring pedestrians ignoring the green light and walking away merrily in midst of blaring horns and angry abuses. Struck at one place in the traffic not moving even an inch for as long as half an hour.

After all this chaos on road, by the time I reach home around 8.30 / 8.45 pm or sometimes even at 9.30 p.m ( I leave office at 6.00 p.m sharp) all thanks to atleast one outdated , ill maintained DTC bus which would have broke down on a busy road right in the middle of the traffic. Now the whole thing takes away precious two and half hours from my daily life.. I am left to reach my mothers house at this hour, pick up my children , who are so happy to see their mother who sees off one of them at 6.20 am in the morning and the other at 7.30 am., they jump and squeal and hug me all over showing their love but me.. what do I give in return.. at the most a feeble smile or an angry yell .. I pick them up hurriedly.. mumble some niceties to my mother and scurry back to my house.

On reaching my house I plonk myself on the sofa.. my school going child brings in her home work, her revision for Unit test, her arts and craft assignment…poor thing tries to do the maximum work before I come in with the help of my mother but still she has something or the other to be supervised by me. My little one climbs on to my lap.. wanting to hug me and get her rightful dose of breast feed from her mother. Another hour goes in this.. then I lift my self up wearily … all the while yelling or yanking at my elder one.. do this.. study this.. write this… and then off to the kitchen.. By Gods grace I have a life partner who helps me out a lot in my household work… also in the kitchen .. inspite of this I am always left irritable… angry and generally unhappy with life due to this daily ordeal.

This Delhi traffic jams are taking the life out of me and many other ladies like me who have to get back home on time, lookafter their children, their studies.. cook food.. prepare things for the next morning etc. I wish I had some magic wand and had some miraculous time management tricks to erase this problem out from my life forever.

I know many of you must have never seen a traffic jam.. never heard of 2 and half hours commuting time from workplace to home when actually the distance can be covered in 45 minutes if the traffic is normal. Well guys.. such things happen with us lesser mortals who have to travel in public transport in the National Capital of India… no such luck as chauffer driven car (as if it would escape this maddening traffice)and two maids waiting for instructions over phone to cater to my orders… as u can see this is the life of a very ordinary woman in an ordinary world…right her in our own capital city of India.

2009-08-10T04:10:00.000-07:00

This is my first ever tag on blogosphere. I picked this up from Deepti's blog...

A
- Available: Always for my family and friends
- Age: Please don’t ask…!!!
- Annoyance: Unpunctual late lateefs
- Animal: Like them in zoos and forests
B
- Beer: Yup !
- Birthplace: Delhi
- Body Part on opposite sex: Eyes
- Best feeling in the world: Seeing the happiness on my children's face
- Blind or Deaf: Neither
- Best weather: October – November in Delhi neither very hot nor very cold.. pleasant
- Been in Love: Yes
- Been on stage: Yes
- Believe in yourself: Most of the times yes..
- Believe in life on other planets: Yes
- Believe in miracles: Yes.. absolutely
- Believe in Magic: Yes !
- Believe in God: 200%
C
- Car: Audi.. Skoda.. this is my wishlist
- Candy: Does not have a sweet tooth
- Color: White and black.
- Cried in school: Yes.. many times
- Chocolate/Vanilla: Vanilla
- Country to visit: Switzerland
D
- Day or Night: Night
- Danced: in parties .. with friends… at home with my kids
- Dance in the rain: YES
E
- Eggs: NO.. I am allergic to it
- Eyes: Most expressive part of the face
- Everyone has: the right to live , and should let live
F
- First crush: Got married to him !
- First thoughts waking up: “ So much to do… so little time”
- Food: Chicken Biryani, Parotta irachi, Malayali sadya, chinese food !
G
- Greatest Fear: Living without my family
- Giver or taker: Both
- Goals: To be a good parent to my children, to be a good daughter to my parents.. and to be a good wife…trying too hard eh??
- Get along with your parent(s): Yes.
H
- Hair Colour: Dark brown
- Height: 5ft2in
- Happy: with my husband and kids
- How do you want to die: in my sleep!
- Health freak: Trying to be one..
- Hate: when someone breaks my trust or considers me non trust worthy
I
- Ice Cream: Butterscotch
- Instrument: Tried learing sitar… did not succeed
J
- Jewelry: rings
- Job: Yes..
K
- Kids: are my life
- Kickboxing or karate: Karate
- Keep a journal: No.. only journal is my blog
L
- Love: most important possession
- Laughed so hard you cried: Yes
- Love at first sight: Yes
M
- Mooned anyone: No
- Marriage: It’s the best thing that happened to me.. it made me mature… learn about life… and learnt to be patient and to be loving..
- Motion sickness: NO
N
- Number of Siblings: 1
- Number of Piercings: 2
O
- One wish: That all those who were near and dear to me are back in life once again.with same old trust and happiness
P
- Place you’d like to live: Delhi… always…
- Perfect Pizza: any pizza
- Pepsi/Coke: Any
Q
- Questionnaires: Most of the time interesting
R
- Reason to cry: It has to be something really.. serious
- Reality T.V: A BIG NO
- Roll your tongue in a circle: Yes
S
- Song: Akhiyo ke jharoke se..
- Shoe size: Never bothered to check
- Slept outside: Yes
- Seen a dead body: Yes
- Smoked: Yes
- Shower daily?: Yes
- Sing well:No
- In the shower?: ?????
- Swear:No
- Strawberries/Blueberries: Strawberries
- Scientists need to invent: How to get uninterrupted electricity in our part of the world
T
- Time for bed: 11PM
- Thunderstorms: Love them
- TV: Balika badhu
- Touch your tongue to your nose: No
U
- Unpredictable: Not really
V
- Vegetable you hate: None
- Vegetable you love: karela, ladys finger, brinjal , well almost all
- Vacation spot: have to visit a few
W
- Weakness: my children , my family
- When you grow up: Already grown now getting old
- Worst feeling: when I am not able to help my children or my husband or parents or friends when they are not well
- Wanted to be a model: No
- Where do we go when we die : No idea !!
- Worst weather: Summer all the way
X
-X-Rays: spooky !!!
Y
-Year it is now: 2009
- Yellow: Denotes happiness to me
Z
- Zoo animals: makes me sad
- Zodiac sign: VIRGO
This is my first tag.. and I did it in one go .. yipppiee!!!

Any one who reads this may pick this tag up..

A walk down the memory lane

2009-08-07T00:53:00.000-07:00

During my childhood days I used to roam around the big area at the back and the front of our house in Kerala, this area is known as ‘aiyyam’. Everyone else at the house used to be in their afternoon siesta at that time, which was the time when I used to smell the roses, weed out the plants and run after happy yellow butterflies and sit on the rock on which my grand mother used to wash clothes. I can still feel those times as if I have been freezed there, I can still smell the jasmine flowers which were strewn on the mud and still see the orange coloured coconuts (karikk) hanging in bunches from small coconut trees.

I was always fascinated by the parrots who had made their nest atop of a coconut tree which had a burnt top and was not growing any more and had become a hollow wood, I used to spot a bird daily, this bird had red rimmed eyes, yellowish brown and dark brown wings, it was called as ‘uppan’ in our area. The knocking of the wood pecker on to the tusk of the coconut trees and the multi coloured hens taking short flights and nitpicking the mud for the worms was followed by little chicks hovering around her.

I used to stand a feet away from the pineapple bush and try to peep in and see the fruit which was yet to ripen. When I used to finish doing all these things then it was my turn to sit on the entrance steps to the house or sometimes on the ‘poomukham’ and watch the workers working on the paddy field right in front of the house, the only distractions, a thrilling and exciting one at that for me, was the sight and sound of the zooming long trains which passed on from the railway line which lay across the paddy field. Seeing the train made me sad and happy at the same time because it made me yearn for my parents away in Delhi and happy because I knew one day I would be sitting in one of those and would be going to Delhi for ever.

Right across the railway tracks were two huge trees which jutted out from a mini forest or ‘kaavu’ as we call it in Kerala, the shape of these trees resembled that of two monkeys who were staring at our house from across the railway line. By the time my roaming around and day dreaming was over , my grandma used to call me in to have the afternoon snack with a glass of milky chai. The late evenings and nights also that I spent at that beautiful place are still afresh in my memory, the evening time had my grandma or one of my aunts lighting the evening lamp in the pooja room and keeping it on the ‘poomukham’ (front elevated verandah) and all of us used to sit together and do the ‘namam choll’ (prayers).

After the namam it was time to study, I used to study in an ‘aashan pallikkudam’ (small school manned by one master) where the aashan or the master made us write our Malayalam alphabets on the mud with our forefinger, it has so much effect on the brain ,I tell u, till now those alphabets and the feel of it on the mud are etched in my brain, no amount of writing on the slate or a note book or typing on a computer could ever ever take over that feeling. So, as I said it was study time, and me and my aunts, who were also students at that time, used to plonk ourselves on to the poomukham with a lantern in the middle, this was so because our house had no electricity at that time. When I look back now it seems like a magical experience, the light emanating from the lantern, and the sound of frogs croaking away on the paddy fields, the chirping of cricket among the bushes. We never heard the sound of any vehicle ever, except for the bell of a cycle. The darkness was pitch dark with tiny light from the glow worms flying along in the distant, amidst the jasmine tree or the well which stood by the banana tree.

Just writing down the above lines were total bliss for me, I was transcended to the past, to the place where my heart still belongs to, to those loved ones who were my solace and my strength and were the first familiar faces of love to me.

2009-07-27T04:36:00.000-07:00

Wet Drops

Rising tides washed away the sands,
Stretching out on the cold sea shore
Pale moonlight danced on silky hairstrands
Weaving life and dreams galore

A sprinkling of stars on the vast skies,
Ushered the cool wind carrying wet drops
Falling on to the embrace on the horizon,
Of the sky , the sea and the orange sun

Clouds cluttered and gathered might,
slithering on to the vast skies
brimming with winds and the rains
Then lifted the heart ,on to a shimmering , loving , long night

invisible wound

2009-07-20T22:04:00.000-07:00

The void has been deepening and widening and silence getting resonant. The abrasion is deepening taking the form of a wound. The lullabies and the study time, the hoards of secrets , unending heart to heart talk and the strong and supporting hand , everything has turned into the fading pale pages of past. Even relationships saturate and younger ones replace you in the family ! this never crossed the mind, such thoughts never occurred, was never prepared. The cocoon of warmth , the comfort of an advise , a shoulder to cry on.. has all of this been taken away .. slowly but surely.. yes. It is really difficult learning the lessons of life… but here also you are my teacher.. making me understand in your own unique way.. that I do not matter…not any more !!

2009-07-12T23:36:00.000-07:00

Being anonymous…it’s fun.. its scary .. Only fellow bloggers and people who happen to read my blogs are the ones who are aware that I am a blogger…no body not my husband, not my mother, not my best friends know that I am doing this. They do not know that I am writing to the world my deepest darkest secrets.. my fears.. my feelings …sometimes I feel guilty and want to tell them. But then I do not know how they would react.. my husband starts fuming if I surf for anything apart from foodblogs.. especially ‘orkut’ irritates him to no end. I have also become sick of ‘Orkut’ in some ways.. people have started using it for flaunting.. show off… getting equal with others and what not.. I am sure it has its good side also like it has helped us to get back to some long lost good friends from College and School .. but I think some of the feelings of my hubby dear has rubbed on to me .

I have sort of become obsessed of being a blogger… while going back home from office in the chartered bus when I see so many people girls.. sitting seriously or chatting away I sometimes wonder.. how many of them might be blogging…;) ??? Does the blogger has to have a particular look, I don’t think so.. from a simpleton to a modern one any body can blog… Orkut., facebook, twitter, I feel all this had been been overexposed but blogging is so different.. it seems as if we are in the midst of a set of people whom we might have never met, but who seems to have identical thoughts, identical experiences and above all their empathising with your feelings gives a totally different meaning to communication… so blogging is a boon, to be able to write and feel and then to find people acknowledging you and your feelings… I would forever remain a blogger… …at least that’s what I feel now 

Courtesy : Inspiration – Deeps blog on ‘How do you do it ?’

Long lost friendship..

2009-07-09T05:02:00.000-07:00

It’s over ten years since I have met you. But I have never forgotten you, your name comes up in my thought often, when I was blessed with my first baby I wished I could meet you, how you would react seeing your crazy friend in her maternity clothes nursing a sweet little baby with care and poise, I remembered how I used to insist to you that I would deliver a baby only if you becomes my Gynae.

I missed you all the time when I spent years without having a single soul in the name of friend, I was going through a very bad phase in life and needed to blurt out everything so badly, so many time my hands reached for the inland letter which we used to exchange over 5 years when I was pursuing my graduation, then Diploma and went on to work and meanwhile you were slogging hard to complete your MBBS course and finally got the title of ‘Dr. ‘ prefixed to your name.

I missed you whenever I saw two girls giggling away on a bus, on the street or just roaming around the market… I missed all our nights together which we used to spend mostly at your place when u used to visit Delhi in between your MBBS , how we used to keep awake all night whispering , laughing and generally gossiping about friends, relatives, neighbours etc. I feel so sad, and a pain goes through my heart when I feel what I have lost just because of a misunderstanding, which I thought would never ever occur between you and me… but it happened…

I had the hope of nurturing our friendship back to what it was when you finally turned up on my marriage, though I had thought you would not, but your displeasure and disinterest was obvious and apparent by the way you had dressed in gray , drab clothing you had worn to my marriage and whereas we had always planned to look the best on each other’s marriage .. you hardly smiled but I as usual yapped away to you.. you did not respond… and that was the last day we met.

Its been 10 years since my marriage, after two kids and lots of hardships in life, lots of maturity gained in the process but I lost the very very important thing in my life and that is my friendship to you. Till today I have kept a tab on you knowingly or unknowingly.. I blessed you in my heart when I heard about your marriage to the same guy about whom you and I have discussed day in and day out … I was so emotional when I came to know you were blessed with a daughter… many times I thought of calling you up.. writing to you. But then I had no contact.. even your mother stopped calling up my mother…t he after effect of our broken friendship…

Dearest friend wherever you are I wish you all the very best in life .. today .. tomorrow and always……..

Me.. chicken.. me

2009-07-09T04:26:00.000-07:00

I have been going through a lot of blogs recently and I must say I have chickened out after seeing the quality of writing in all these blogs. It’s not as if I was critically analyzing them nor am I an authority on anybody’s writing prowess but it’s the amazing simplicity, sincerity, humor ( its just too good), the ability to laugh at yourself and the ability to touch the heart of those who read your blogs which makes these blogs really awesome. Hats off to all you women, some of whom I have noticed are home makers which means that they always have something or the other to look after, to set right etc. but they are still pursuing their interest, taking time out for themselves, to pour their heart out and hats off to them too who are working and who are constantly hard pressed for time yet they are taking time out to connect to the world, to their friends and more importantly to themselves. I also came across some male writers who were really striking with their writing, their ability to strike a chord, their perspective, everything is really wonderful.

Now.. now let me tell you why I chickened out, I felt I was not even half as good as anybody whom I have read and enjoyed, but then I realize that blogging is not about being perfect or being good with words, but its all about pouring yourself as you are on to the virtual world right from your heart, right from your soul, no pretence, no put on . And I think these are exactly the reason for those heavy traffic on all these blogs and the kind of response they generate.

Unpretentious blogging is like pouring your heart out to your best friend… So from being a chicken I have decided to be back to myself and start blogging with renewed vigour and valour.

Hats off to all bloggers… all you guys are JUST GREAT.. thanks for the inspiration !!!!

2009-07-02T21:38:00.000-07:00

Usually I don’t get time to go through the newspapers in the morning, because mornings are the most chaotic time at my house.. no time.. no time…no time, but today I managed to take a passing look at the front page, and since then I am down and out… I am angry, upset and very sad… There were two news items which contributed to my state of mind. One is the news which says that a young woman who seems to have been a victim of hit and run accident case and who had already died, her body had been run over several times by many vehicles on a busy Delhi –UP road , her body was so much mutilated by all this that the police had to pick up her body parts from several places in pieces … while I read this news I could not believe my eyes that Delhites have become so ruthless, they have lost their soul and heart and humanity … this is how they treated a fellow human being… she died the death of a street dog… which we see everyday on busy roads… I could not fathom the depth of numbness and selfishness of each of those people whose vehicle ran over her again and again and her lifeless body was put to some more torture.. The news also says that there lay a cement sack at the place near to her mutilated body,which contained a few rupees, some coins and a blue kurti… that means may be she was a desolate woman, may be she belonged to the poor section of society .. but is it a criterion for getting help when a person is dying or is it a criterion for showing respect and some humanity to a dead body of a human being…??? does it mean people would have stopped and did something or at least inform a PCR if she was well dressed and carrying a leather bag… what is it ???… where have we lost it.???. where are we heading to ???…I am clueless and scared and totally upset to whatever is going wrong with all of us…. God save the mankind….

Another story which caught my attention was the news of a lady Doctor in a reputed hospital in Delhi, she checked into a decent hotel in North Delhi along with her four year old twin daughters, she later bought some medicines, called up her husband to inform that she is in this hotel and going to kill herself and her daughters, she then injected some poison to both her daughters and then on herself, her daughters died and she is now battling for life at a hospital in Delhi.. by the time her husband , himself a doctor, reached the hospital .. they had lost their daughters…. I know you must have heard this kind of news many time but I was aghast after reading this because this involved a lady Doctor, who belonged to family of Doctors, her husband also belonged to a family of Doctors which meant they were well educated, upper class people who it seems had everything going for them in life. I do not know the reason she did it, if she survives would she be able to survive actually? wont the innocent faces of her daughters’ haunt her for life?? Even if the issue was a grave one for which she took this extreme step, why she did not talk to anybody and try and solve it before taking the life of two little children? Why did she not confess even to her parents or husband or some friend or some helpline??.. I do not know the reason but it could be an extra marital affair of her husband, her own, or is it that someone pestered her for having only daughters .. this blame game is prevalent in even the highest upper class families… I do not know… but I can’t bring my self to work peacefully , to eat my breakfast properly.. I just hope she does not survive.. may be that’s a cruel thought from me but as a mother I feel she would die a thousand deaths daily if she survives.. because whatever the reasons for which she took the life of her children would seem too ordinary for the extraordinary pain which she would have to endure every day when she would have to live without her children around!!! GOD Bless the departed soul of her children…..and give her the strength to bear the loss……

...and May God rehabilitate mankind soon…very .. very soon…

2009-07-02T03:43:00.000-07:00

Colours of passion

Sometime ago a splash of red on the pristine white
turned the Cool blue breeze into a wild storm

Turmoils on the warm brown hearth gave way to sprouting purple wings to paradise
Unyielding emotions ran riot yearning to sail towards the unknown

A flashing glimpse of strangeness, yet so familiar,
Promised to sweep away towards an enchanting island

Colours of vibrant hue speckled with exotic scents
gave way to a moment of sinful ecstasy

a gushing wave of guilt washed off the moment freezed on the horizon
and brought back to the pristine white ,
to the warm embrace of yore, to today and forever till eternity…

right from my heart

2009-06-25T02:34:00.000-07:00

Women

Drops of perspiration adorned her brow
She kept running fast behind the rainbow

Her steps faltered and sight blinded
By the multitude of colours that shimmered

She stretched out her hands to touch it
But it disappeared leaving behind nothing but mist

She stood there looking at the sky
And at the giant banyan tree with its branch rising high

Far away she heard the song of some unknown bird
Soulfully beckoning a mate and longing to be cared

She stood mesmerized then turned around
And walked, back to her home, her child, sleeping sound

She looked at her and again found the rainbow
This time on her little daughters serene white brow

right from my heart ..

SELF DOUBT

2009-06-23T01:51:00.000-07:00

It's been weighing heavily on my mind for the past year and half. Now I am trying to attribute it to reasons all and sundry, latest one is 'bad feng shui' or better may be 'bad vaastu' of my house. I have realised now that any relation, however strong and sturdy and close knit, is guarnteed to go haywire.

Now I have started doubting my self, i`s it `me? Am I so bad? my tongue so sharp and so insensitive that I have hurt people and their sentiments beyond any repair because I chose to say the truth as it is and did not resort to any nice words. Some very close relations have started playing hide and seek (because I am friendly with someone who is not in the good books of someone else who is close to her ) but I pursue her relentlessly because I feel that she has been a source of strength to me always, sometimes financial, sometimes moral but always a strength, and would always respect her.

I want to cutt (extra 't' intentional) off my razor sharp tongue, I want to become calm and serene and want to learn 'how not to react' , 'how not to speak my mind', 'how to put on'. I want to learn meditation, or may be go in for 'Art of living', anything which would make me calmer and nicer. I am caught in a volcanoe of self doubt, I find my self all black , some one who has hurt everybody at one point or the other. Or am I someone who is too dominant... I do not know.. but I am hurt and I am full of low self esteem... I try hard to keep my opinions to my self so that it doesn't hit someone hard on his or her face. Am I so bad, so full of venom.. what is it...???

Am I on the verge of some nervous breakdown, or is it that I am going through some hormonal imbalance, I do not know, but how far and how many more to go???? I think its only this blog, my vent page, my soulspeaking space that is offering me some comfort.

I am mesmerised by people who speak ever so softly, who is always so nice and friendly and never has an opinion which is just the opposite of their friend/ relative/colleague's etc. They are so prim and proper and so popular... am I sounding like a teenager, if yes, then that is exactly the way I am feeling now, confused.. hurt .. ignored... scoffed at!!!, misunderstood......

Only one feeling is looming large on my head now and it is 'SELF DOUBT'??????

Loneliness

2009-06-17T03:06:00.000-07:00

Loneliness lingered on the empty fields
I saw it Sitting by the train window,
Bearing the blistering heat
Of a sleepy ,dusty May afternoon

It loomed large on the dry and barren lands, stretching out
With little brown huts here and there.
Naked little children playing around the dilapidated handpump,
Their mothers sitting around huddled in groups,
Some gossiping, some bickering

It hovered around Puddles of water collected along some thorny trees
Where Stray dogs rolled themselves in it and curled nearby,
For wiling away the afternoon, sleeping.
Some miles away it followed a bullock cart ,which dragged itself farther
Towards the town, on the other side of the parched river.

As night descended and hot winds blew again
Loneliness sat, wearily, on a wooden bench,
under a cracked, dim tubelight
In a dark and lonely railway station.

Right from my heart

Daughters

2009-06-15T02:05:00.000-07:00

I gave birth to my second daughter after going through a lot of struggle with my health, I suffered from gestational diabetes, I was totally upset mentally and physically , diabetes had taken a toll on my body and mind. I was handed over a long list by my doctor, this list contained the names of all the food that ‘I should not have’, unfortunately the diabetes was deducted rather late when I was in the middle of my 7th month and ideally I should have eaten as much as I can, as during the initial four to five months I could not eat any thing much as I had incessant vomiting .

In order to bring the sugar level in the blood under control I was put on a diet of methi seed subji, methi leaf subji, karela and 2 sookhi roti each in the morning, lunch and dinner. The result was that the net weight gain during this pregnancy was 5 kgs !!!. I was not supposed to take any medicine as it could harm my baby so I was advised by the Doctor to take insulin injections everyday. Initially I went to the hospital thrice a day as I had to take the medicine before every meal, then I became an expert in injecting myself with the correct dosage of insulin. !! I was supposed to go for a blood test every alternate day, I used to wait for the results with nervousness and frustration because every report showed that I still had a long way to go before getting the sugar level under control.

As if all of this was not enough, I had another major scare of my life when my doctor advised me to go through the level 2 ultrasound, as a particular component of my blood was high in percentage which could result in giving birth to an abnormal baby , the possibility was 1 in 70. I went through hell, I did not know where to go , what to do, I was at my irritating best, I did not even talk to my husband or mother ,and refused to go for any test with anybody and went alone for all the tests defying everybody. One of my cousins who is very close to me asked me to turn to God, I did , some unknown force inspired me to go for a second opinion with the best Gynecologist in Delhi, she checked upon everything and told me to go for the test once again, she tried to give me comfort by saying that in all possibility it seems to be a wrong blood test report. I went in for the blood test the second time. I wanted to die as going through all this was really painful, but I was concerned about my elder child so I decided to live.

Before the result of the blood test came I had to go through the level 2 ultrasound. Everything went on well, the Doctor who was doing the ultrasound told me that all the parameters showed that ‘ in all probability’ my child was absolutely normal. Once the reports came in I went to meet the Head Doctor, he talked to me, I asked his opinion , he said that since the reports are normal everything should be okay, however, the final decision is on me, I was devastated when he said’ I hope you are lucky, and not unlucky like me, my child is one of them’, when I went out of the clinic I was totally shaken , to be honest, this phase was the toughest in my life though there were instances which were much grim, but, that day I realized how difficult it is to be a mother. I was supposed to take the decision whether to carry on with this pregnancy in the 7th month, if I decided against it I was supposed to go through induced labor which shall take care of the matter. But I got strength from my God, infact Goddess, I totally and absolutely believe in her all the more after the incident, because it was no less than a miracle when the 2nd blood test at a different, renowned lab showed my blood report with no negative blood components at all!!!

On the day I went in for my C-section delivery, on the OT table my sugar level shot up to 263, even though I was under anesthesia, I could hear the commotion in the OT, the doctors panicking, speaking to each other , taking advise, and finally when I heard my child cry, I slipped into a heavy dreamless stupor.

I had to reiterate all these details about my second pregnancy here for a reason, and that reason is when my daughter was born, as usual there was stream of visitors who rather than congratulating me , sympathized with me that I had again got a daughter, that there is a next time and ‘koi baat nahi’, ‘ agli baar bhagwan ladka zaroor dega’, some people were ready with statistics that most of the time the third child after 2 girls is a boy. The last straw in the hat was when my Doctor who refused to do a family planning operation on me cited one more reason other than my new born’s ill health (she was slightly blue and was kept in the nursery for two days) that ‘ek baar aur try kar sakte ho’.

I wanted to scream and let everyone know what I had to go through to bring this child on my lap, what this child meant to me, I wanted to push everyone out of my room who spoke about not having a ‘beta’. But then I realized that only a mother can understand the trauma of going through such painful moments during pregnancy, the trauma of the thought of not being able to control the health , mental and physical , of the child who is growing in her womb and only a mother will do it without ever giving a thought to the sex of the child.

only girls can be mothers and only mothers can be so strong. I just pray to God to make my girls and every girl so strong and self dependent that the same set of people should turn back and say one day that ‘daughters are the best’.

When I saw my frail , little baby for the first time , two days after the delivery, , I could not control my tears, it was the tears of joy … I … just hope my girls will have a great and blessed life ahead….

This will keep me going for a life time

2009-06-09T02:45:00.000-07:00

Hey, two invaluable comments on my blog ... and I am ready for a lifetime of writing my heart out. Thanks again for those sincere words,... if I would say that it is encouraging.. it would be an understatement.. it is much more than that.

Since it has been quite sometime that I have not done any writing bit, apart from the usual business correspondence which is oh ! so boring and where one has to be very cautious, I am so happy to have found this place again for expressing myself. I have a problem and that is I am too lazy with the punctuation marks, when I am in the flow of words I do not care to put them and once I finish writing and start reading what I wrote it gives a raw appearance, I think I need to do some brushing up of my grip on punctuation marks.

Long ago I used to write diary each day, I had more than 7 diaries with me at one point of time , but one emotional outburst had everything in flames. I regretted what I did for a long time, but one diary of mine was saved from this and when I read it now, it is as if I am looking at a childwoman who was so insecure , self doubting and full of self pity, this diary made me realise how much I have changed as a person over the years. But one thing is for sure my diary writing was a source of venting out my deepest feelings and fears and it used to be a great source of solace to me. Blogging is akin to diary writing for me because I would not be using flowery language and difficult English words but would be penning down my deepest feelings, but yes unlike my diary ramblings this post would be open to so many people , some would identify with me and my feelings bu for some it would just that ' ramblings'.....

Thanks from the depth of my heart

2009-06-08T03:51:00.000-07:00

It was exactly around a year back that I had created this blog , to vent out my post maternity blues, I had just joined back office and was looking out for a way to give vent to my brimming emotions. However, I could not pursue it due to work, lack of time etc. etc.

Today I am going to actually start blogging with full passion and devotion, I am using these words becaus I had always wanted to write, to read and to write again and feel wonderful about writing and like a writer (I do not claim to be one) has always yearned for the opinion of others. But now I am not doing it out of these feelings , in blogs I have found a platform to give shape to my innermost feelings, to be honest and to be pure and be true to your self, I must mention Deepti 's blog which I read in one go and through her I could find the most memorable teacher of my life Mrs. Chandrika, Deepti I am indebted to you, coz its your blog which carried me over to hers and as usual she has done wonders to my sagging morale.

Today on the 8th day of June 2009 I would like to thank loud and clear and with all my sincerity and sensitivity my most beloved teacher for having once again inspired my by her sheer words. I remember, way back that is around 18 years back she was the one who used to encourage me to take up Journalism, she is the only one who saw some spark in me which everybody else either did not see or ignored. She has today again by way of reply to my comments on her blog has once again urged me to write and has told me that ' you will feel wonderful' and I am sure I will and I am already feeling so. Thank you teacher once again....from the bottom of my heart.

Thanks for everything.. your advises, your listening, your rock solid principles and recognising me after all these years....