The Balancing Act

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!!!

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….

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 t...

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 ba...

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 ...

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

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

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….

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 patie...

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 ...

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 pla...

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