The Balancing Act

The year turned around and gave a whack on our faces, opened our eyes, touched our souls and  brought around a revolution of sorts , I will not forget 2012 and I hope none of us will, especially our Parliamentarians, the custodians of law, the highest authorities of our Country and all the men out there. The year is almost gone but it has given a dull pain in the heart, which refuses to die down, eyes well up everytime I think about the girl whom none of us knew by face or name I have this urge, a strong one to leave Delhi and settle down south, back to the roots, but at the same time I have no idea whether this shall bring safety to me and my family It feels as if a knife is drawn through my chest everytime I think about my daughters venturing out alone in the future I just hope the coming year shall bring about changes in our Country , our systems I hope , wish and pray men will respect women in our Country, especially in the Capital city of Delhi I hop...

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

Washed away on the sea shore I found your soul  in a seashell I took it up delicately, placed it inside my palm, Looked at it tenderly, you felt so warm, I put you back in the seashell, beside you I sat, waiting for you, to come alive off the shell, I closed my eyes , only inhaling the fragrance of beautiful waves, in unending trance, Then one beautiful moment I felt you, You leaned on to me, your head on my shoulder Your arms around me, I felt blessed , your hands  and mine, Your embrace, your presence, your soul and mine, Now entwined, along a seashore, For ever, forever, for ever

Given below are few wonderful lines written by Mitch Albom from his book 'Have a little faith', I have gone only half way through the book and it's a lovely , soul touching read till now. This little book has given me so much to think about that I plan to read his other books as well. Here are the lines... more to come as and when I finish the book.... "My friends, If we are right with those we love, and we behave in line with our faith, our lives will not be cursed with the aching throb of unfulfilled business. Our words will always be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of ‘I could have, I should have’. We can sleep in a storm. And when it’s time our goodbyes will be complete". Mitch Albom

My second born, my younger daughter turned five yesterday. Five years just flew by, I remember the very difficult pregnancy, the daily doses of insulin injections,  the day she was born she was almost bluish and how she was kept away from me for three days in the nursery, but still she seemed to be content and on her own. I was a very tired and depressed mother, the biting cold of Delhi winter was not helping much, but I remember distinctly that she did not bother me much, most of the times she was happy with the crowd of people around her, grandmothers, sister, cousins etc. As time passed I observed that she was most happy in the company of her big sis, she looked around when she could not find her sister , when she started crawling, I could see her following big sis everywhere. I never realized when she had started eating on her own, doing her own things, started doing her homework and even talking so much to her sister, father and me. The fact is I never put any eff...

‘Motherhood’, when I was unmarried, I felt it was the most overrated virtue. When my mother used to get up early in the morning, even in the hardest of winters, and me and my sister were still curled up in the warm quilts, I used to wonder why does she have to do all these things? okay she has to cook but why get up so early for it, okay we have school, but then what is the need to get up at 5.am to do the cleaning and mopping and why get after our life to get up and get ready ??… well.. I even used to ask her, why do you do so much? Why can’t you sleep some more? Why don’t you ever relax? and my mother used to tell me you will know when your turn comes, but I was very sure that I will never be like her, my sleep and my comfort was too precious for me to even think of compromising on it for anybody.. anybody!! Then I got married and even then I had no inkling, I still had the same feeling towards motherhood, I was not particularly inclined towards my nieces and nephews from...

Isn’t it absolutely amazing the way our mind jumps from one thought to another in a matter of seconds. To keep the mind focused is the biggest challenge, I have been trying for the past couple of days, unsuccessfully though, to practise meditation. The moment I sit down on my mat in the early morning, with nothing but calm and peace around me to practise meditation, my mind starts jumping like an accomplished high jumper, a thorough gymnast and an effortless dancer, seriously, it is as if my mind is deliberately doing it, it is teasing me and mocking me or even challenging me to make it sit quietly and peacefully even for a minute. My mind opens up a myriad topics, some of which has never crossed my mind for so long, I tried chanting, I tried visualizing , affirmative thoughts but alas! Nothing, nothing seems to work. 1) When faced with such dilemma I turned to Google baba who directed me to various articles on   meditation 2) I read lots and lots on meditation and...

The fine lines and wrinkles Dwindling eyesight and silver hair Faltering steps , hazy mind Holding on to the words so kind Warmth of your sturdy hands Steadying grip Am I the result of my preceding years The scoldings and stand outs The arguments and silences The tears ,then the hugs The realization, the distance The calls, the letters You are so lucky you can walk back Put your hands around and hug But what about the wheel That only moves and provides No hugs , no warmth , no affection Only a thread of duty, The remains of a severed cord Invisible, still throbbing with life Waiting, tear stained cheeks In anticipation of the loving lap The fragrance of love ….never to be For time has travelled away No comebacks here… only the invisible cord. tied on one end ... still alive ..throbbing..invisible............

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

The best gift to give an avid reader is a good book and I was more than happy to have received a copy of the ‘Krishna Key’ by Ashwin Sanghi (writer of Rozabal Line and Chanaky’s Chant). The book caught my attention from the word go, it was an interesting read especially with Lord Krishna's  monologue before the start of each chapter, Krishna’s story in his own words is unraveled before us parallelly with the main plot. The maps and pictures also gives a different feel to the book. The book reminds us many times of the unforgettable ‘Da vinci Code’ by Dan brown. The main protagonist Ravi Mohan Saini and others are part of a great story woven expertly to keep us engaged and engrossed till the end. The amount of research which has been done for this book is quite amazing, many revelations come as an eye opener to us, I have personally noted down many instances so that I can check back and do some research on my own about these, especially about the Dwarka City, the Mount K...

Warning : Looong rambling ahead I would like to seiously dwell upon ‘EGO’, the culprit, the villain , the black sheep among all the state of mind a human being experiences and analyse it's effect on us, mostly in our daily life. This seems to be the main driving force behind many a feuds whether political, social, personal or professional. For example what's with Mamata Banerjee walking out of UPA  and Sonia Gandhi refusing to acknowledge the dent her party has suffered due to it, what is riding high at both the sides??? yes, the answer is 'EGO'. Why should ‘I’(the EGO)  come between all my happiness and well being, why can’t ‘I’ be happy being not considered first for everything every time? why is it that 'I' feel bad when things happen without keeping my aspirations and comforts in mind? when 'I' am not given the importance which ‘I’ feel ‘I’ deserve. Is it necessary that every time I talk to you , I should feel respected, valued  and wel...

I have read many books and many book reviews but I was never tempted to write a review, but this book has been so much fun that I need to bring this on to all the people who care to read my blog…. I finished reading ‘JMPE’, within a day , in fact half a day, I read it during my journey back to my house from Gurgaon after lunch with the bloggers and Y , that is , since the moment I laid my hands on it I fell in love with it. I have only one word for this novel and that is ‘Hilarious’, Y has managed to remain so even in the most somber part of the story where the couple has to seek the intervention of a marriage counselor due to some misunderstandings between them . I particularly liked the ‘ Vijay Reema and Yashodhara Reema’ episode.  I couldn’t control my laughter where in Y states that she would remind herself to learn the art of ‘one eyebrow raising’ by practicing it in front of the mirror when she is alone, which the marriage counselor whom she describes as ‘a wo...

I entered the ‘mamagoto’ restaurant in Gurgaon as a part of around 20 bloggers 'lunch meet' arranged  for the winners who had won a lunch and a signed copy of ‘Just Married Pelase Excuse’ , contest at Y's blog  . I was really, really excited for the day to unfold as I wanted to meet Y(Yashodhara), who also writes a wonderful blog and wanted to read her book at the earliest. Since upon my arrival there were none other than Neha, of Harper Collins who was around, after exchanging a few pleasantries with her, I decided to look up the cute and elegant 'mamagato restaurant'  which had laid down a long beautiful table for all of us bloggers to have lunch and interact with Y. Slowly the bloggers started coming in and it was really a fun meet with all the ladies and two gentlemen, Y’s husband (Vijay, also the hero of the novel) and Dipta who is also a writer. I was most excited to meet the author herself, and not exaggerating one bit, she is the...

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

So ladies and gentlemen, let me come out of my tortoise shell of morbid posts and general gloom in my blog and jump on to this. Well I have read ‘ Yashodharalal ‘ and has been an avid admirer of her blog for long, though a silent one at that, but I always admitted after reading her that she is the one who is actually doing the ‘BALANCING ACT’. To take things forward , let me tell you that , my marriage day dawned after a lot of trepidations, why , because though we were of the same caste and region and religion etc. but still ours was a ‘love marriage’ and that too which had survived the ups and downs of time for the last 7 years. Though the sailing was rough but it was still manageable with regard to both set of parents and relatives , however, I was always worried about one thing and that was my husband’s (then would be) habit of coming late for everything , everywhere. I was and am still the total opposite of this, because of the same reason I was a bit worried, why worried??...

The criss cross paths the empty vessels Lack of money Hungry stomachs The desire for learning Lack of clothes Tear stained faces Black and blue bruises Borrowed books Borrowed clothes Hungry stomachs Struggle and neglect Mirage of abundance Bubble bursts Struggle on and on Burdens heavier Life stretches Shades and water Unable to sustain Thorns , harsh words No shade , no breeze Burning sands Burning feet, life stretches Time laughs, taunts , hobbles on....

Scene 1, the twinkle in her eyes, the fragrance in her hair, everything about her is so heady in the courtship days, nothing and nobody would work in place of her. His voice, his looks, his caring touch, heart yearns for it after he is long gone, heart beats in waiting for the day when a meeting is planned, nothing holds her and his attention other than each other’s loving presence and sweet memories. Everything culminates into a sweet climax when they get married, that is the happy ending to an eventful love saga turning into a beginning of a so called 'love marriage'. Cut to Scene 2, somewhere else, a boy and a girl meets where both their families are present and they are conveniently provided with some time (around 10 minutes may be) to spend with each other, and then they have tea and snacks and dryfrutis , they part ways and give their message either through the family friend who has materialized this meeting or through the broker who has brought this ‘rishta’ that...

To stop and smell the flowers To unload the heavy bagpack from the shoulders To feel light and happy To forget the feelings so heavy To feel the rain drops To hug and cuddle with the kids To run around wildly with them in the parks To enjoy their gurgles and hearty , happy laughter To stop and smell the flowers To unload the heavy bagpack from the shoulders Dreams and wishes, can I touch with you a magic wand?    Can I longingly look at you and plead you to come true?? Please stop the sands of time, Let me be the mother with lots of time With lots of patience and warmth With lots of understanding and care With lots of love and hugs Let me , Let me stop and smell the flowers Let me be the mother I want to be…..

Kudos to the incredible efforts put in by Aamir khan in opening the nation’s mind and eyes to various issues which are swept under the carpet or are treated with indifference. The title of his programme, ‘Satyamev Jayate’ itself is enough to bring goosebumps and patriotism to the forefront of one’s mind, one can not in any way negate or nullify the effort that he has put in bringing our attention to various burning isssues, right from female infanticide to alcoholism to challenges faced by the physically handicapped, the problems of senior citizens and the latest one on Water scarcity and issues are all absolutely sincere in its effort and it’s effect on the masses. The beauty of this programme is that he is not only letting his audience face the depths and widths of a problem, a national issue, but he is also trying his best to give every problem a solution, and it is not as if he is providing the solutions, he is bringing to the forefront those people who had already been...

It feels like a dark , hollow , suffocating tunnel which leads to nowhere. Yes, you are right, those are very very pessimistic and negative thoughts, but what else do you expect in such a dark situation where every day you hear about a rape, a molestation and kidnap and abduction of young girls and women. I am no social worker or media person but I am one of those women who venture out of the house everyday and return back after dusk and sometimes even during odd hours due to the call of duty, and I have two daughters who are growing up , and I am living in the capital of India which is unfortunately now know as the most unsafest place for women. I am appalled at the apathy and indifference of the Government and the society as a whole towards this issue. Some small towns and villagers are waking up to this but then the rules they are founding for the safety seems like out of stone age, the thought behind the rule is well taken but does banning the mobile for women under 40 and not al...

The big black pot with a lid When the lazy afternoons gave way to a big orange sun on the horizon with clouds hovering around it, sometimes to embrace, sometimes to hide and sometimes to just be besides the majestic one, that was almost always the most interesting time of the day for me, the little girl in a laid back little town of Kerala, way back, rather decades back. When a sleepy little me, after my afternoon nap, forayed into the dark kitchen and looked around and fumbled with the lid of the ‘big black pot with a lid’, that was the pot which held the goodies for the evening snack with tea, and my grandmother knew that to find me she does not have to look elsewhere, just to the corner of the kitchen and she can find me struggling with the lid, and she would come to the kitchen and help me lift the lid and take a piece of my evening palaharam. Years passed the little girl grew up but the memories did not fade, and one day I wanted my grandmother to show me the black...

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

1. You must post the rules. 2. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post & then create 11 new questions to ask the people you’ve tagged. 3. Tag 11 people and link to them on your post. 4. Let them know you’ve tagged them! So here are the 11 questions that Nancy of Refelctions has tagged me with 1.) If you could have any superpower, what would it be? It would be definitely something to do with making people happy , to take away their pains and make them happy and content , at least for a while… please pardon me for sounding like the finalist of Ms. Universe.. but I really really meant it.. :) 2.) What was your favourite childhood television program? Hey I remember those Sundays, for which we used to wait patiently through out the week, and on Sundays starting 9.00 am there were so many programs, I don’t know whether any one remembers but there was a serial called ‘kachi dhoop’ starring Bhagyashree, and many other kids and I used to love it…and yes...

The silver lining disappeared, Winds with claws gnawed on Rain drops pattered on intermittently, rays of peeking sun hid behind a gray cloud, abandoning the shine to an ominous dark. Sky waited with bated breath, looking for a moment to grasp the rainbow. Below on the ochre land , a humming bird circled a violet flower, peeping in for honey and dew. The swaying branch of the coconut tree, sprinkled the drops of pouring rain, on to a clinging vine embracing her. A wandering soul drifted around, calming the lamenting heart with scent of wet earth. Then, spotting a lone lantern , slowly, turned itself into a moth, to enjoy the heat of its own peril, in the dim, beckoning warm light of the lantern.

I need long steps to cover that path,  Stretching out beyond me into the horizon  I can not see an end in sight Only dry leaves on yellow grass, no shelter, no wooden bench on either side of the path only shade and sun crisscrossing the trees, some tall and majestic ,some stunted and sad sometimes I drag myself to the next point in sight or just sprint away breathing the eucalyptus' heady fragrance sometimes I long for a soul to turn to or just acknowledgment of what I am I long for the cocoon of warm embrace  Of those who brought me to this world The pure expression of being looked after And being proud of …but I find nothing  Only acres of land sprawling under my feet Sometimes I breakdown by the rose apple tree,  Longing to rest there for long, not to get up ever Just to sit there soaking in my own tears Or just pepping up my self and giving a pat,  A loving one on my shoulder , to get me up To walk till the point where the earth me...

Long long ago , amidst the flickering dim light of a sole lantern, which precariously hung on the verandah I followed her word by word, her strong and determined voice, revising her days lessons, her hand deftly drawing the triangles of geometry mesmerized me to no end. The gleaming silver paper with which she covered her note books reflected the yellow pale light of the lantern, accentuated by the pitch darkness around us. Me in my little red frock, bent over my wooden bordered slate with milky white slate pencils in my hand imitated her, her seriousness and tried becoming like her. During the day when I went to the tiny little school, if you may call it so, it was a make shift room, made up with coconut leaves and bamboo sticks, the old ‘ashan’ or master made the kids , me and many like me write Malayalam alphapets on the white shiney sand which was spread on the dark brown earth of the makeshift room, each one of us was made to write with our forefinger on the sand , the ‘Ashan’ ...

A HUGE thanks to Deeps (http://www.deepsspeakingup.wordpress.com/) for tagging me and giving me the 'Versatile blogger award'. Well first things first the rules of the tag is as below  Add the Versatile Blogger Award picture to your Blog Post  Thank the Blogger who nominated you  Share 7 Random things about yourself  Nominate 15 fellow Bloggers  Inform the Bloggers of their nomination 1. Ummm well let me tell you here that I am a random person with actually random interests at random times..well I want to learn french, learn crocheting, sometimes I want to travel and sometimes I am dying to get into gardening and I am doing none of these.. 2. I can read and write really fast and when I was in school/ college I used to write so fast that sometimes after giving the exams , waiting outside for my friends for hours together, I used to feel that may be after all 'did I really attempt all the questions'? 3. I love writing .. I want to write like Chitra Baner...

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 lov...