Saturday, December 9, 2017

A magical journey!

" I understand dear, but I am sorry. I can't make it. I tried hard to finish it off and come,  but this work seems to extend like it's never going to end. Please, carry on! By the way, convey my regards to Neetu!"

After conveying the greatest news that he cannot join me for my cousin's marriage, which was a few miles away the day after,  he proceeded to give me instructions and advices on how to travel safe. But I never did hear a word! A family celebration without him! My head was reeling on the thought of traveling alone without him, but with someone, who can drive me mad and happy at the same time, my 6 month old baby, Ayan.

 The birds in the clock cooed  7 times, and I came back to my senses. "Okay, take care, it's time to leave", I slammed the phone down and started to the station through a cab. My baby seemed to like the journey, giggling at the colorful billboards and the pleasant breeze, which gave me some hope. But that didn't last long. The cab came to a halt.

"What happened?", I questioned, praying that he shouldn't  say it's a traffic jam.

" Madam, . Can't move forward Madam. Procession, Madam. So, all the vehicles have been stopped for sometime", the cab driver sounded pitiful.

"Well, is there any other way I could reach the station? ", I asked hoping that he would fly me there somehow.

"Walk down two streets and take an auto or cab from there Madam, there's no other way", he announced and helped me pick my suitcase.

I stood there perplexed. Then I gathered myself, grabbed my suitcase and started to walk. By that time, my baby was beginning to look annoyed. " I know, I know, it all starts here", I thought to myself.'

Somehow, I reached the station. How did I board the train, God only knows! I reached my seat, burning, panting and cursing my husband for making me go through this. Ayan was even more exhausted. I feared that this night would never end.

I took a deep breath and examined the inmates of the cabin. A young lady was sitting next to a kid, maybe 5 year old. He looked different and he seemed restless. He jumped, made unusual noises and seemed to be unaware of his surrounding. He spoke in a language which only his mother could understand. A bout of emotions swept through my mind, as I monitored them eventually.

I understood that he was a special kid. The train began to move and I began to start a conversation with the mother slowly. She  started to speak to me about the kid, but her words were carefully chosen. She explained to me about how her routine was, how the kid was specially able to do certain things and how she tries hard everyday to make her son live his life to the fullest. One thing that astonished me was the smile that she carried throughout the conversation and the patience with which she answered to the excited questions of her son, in between.

The kid kept on grabbing her hair. He tried to kiss Ayan several times, which her mother diligently avoided. When I tried to hold him and talk to him, he shied away. The mother had to be viligant and patient almost every minute. Though she had very little time for herself, she seemed to be calm and composed, which astounded me. Every time I saw her, the respect I had for her grew.

Ayan ate and he slept, the young lady and the child slept too, but I was wide awake. I wanted to know more about the young lady and the gifted child. I wanted to know where she got her patience from, I wanted to know if there is anything that I could do that would help them, I wanted to know whether she felt like giving up anytime?"

A journey which seemed impossible and overwhelming, seemed to be an enlightenment suddenly. What felt impossible to me, was nothing in comparison to that lady who runs behind her son, being his teacher for a lifetime. Life can bring you impeccable lessons at unexpected places. A train is one such, too! I heaved a sigh and looked at Ayan. In his dreams, he smiled sweetly. I closed my eyes to the lullaby of the train.

P.S: Life isn't a bed of roses, it isn't a bed of thorns either! While we whine about simple things in life, there are some people like this fictitious lady, doing greatest things in an impossible way! Salute to all the super moms!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian bloggers by Blogadda.

Sunday, December 20, 2015

Music to the ears!


Music to my ears!!

I was standing on my toes... outside the small room.. Your mind would question whether I couldn't go inside. Yes, I can't.  I was ordered not to... Anxiety was possessing me, head to toes...  my mouth murmured a few names of God, while my mind argued whether I can call God for these reasons... I tried to wander away from the room to put my mind at ease, but it worsened it even more...

 I desperately  wanted to know what was going inside... couldn't wait for it to dawn on me... but there was no option of me going inside, because I knew for sure that it could upset the entire thing... Making up my mind, I turned away and as I took a step, I heard it...

It was like music to my ears... Yes... My 2 year old toddler yelled with excitement, " Mommy!! Yay!! I pooped in the potty!" Phew... finally!! it was music to my ears.

PS:I know what is going on in your mind, now. Poop? Music to the ears? Oh yes, it is.. Making a toddler master the art of potty training is one Herculean task for many mommies(at least, for me). So I decided to make it as a plot of the narration, in an unexpected way. Let the smiles stay forever! Wish you all a very very Happy New Year 2016!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Not mine! Its from Google
This week’s WOW prompt is – ‘Music To My Ears’

Sunday, October 11, 2015

A new beginning!

The badge

"These boys aren't going to leave, why don't they find a better spot to have their ruckus after college. How am I going to start my new vehicle? If something odd happens before I get to balance, they are going to make it the talk of the town tomorrow", Preethi's mind raced and she heaved a sigh.

Image result for learning a scooty
Image souce: Google
The wind was getting cold, she had to start... She sat on her new pink scooty carefully, and hooked her bag on it. When she rose up she caught a glimpse of him, standing with a smirk of curiosity and disbelief. "Oh, God, this is even worse", she thought. It was Shravan, her college mate. Somehow, they both had a dislike towards each other, or they thought so. 

During classes, at the lab sessions, while eating at the canteen, or even while chatting, something happened that Preethi hated him, made her think of him as an elitist. Shravan's case was not that bad, he was trying to give her a social smile at times, but Preethi never looked up...

Preethi took a deep breath and started. Her hands were trembling, her heart raced and SWIRLLL... the vehicle went out of her control, just exactly as she presumed. ALAS! Tears started rolling down her eyes as she heard the roaring laughter of the bunch of boys. She was even more ashamed to look into Shravan's direction.

But shravan was standing to her side. He collected her bag, lifted her scooty and made her rise. 

She wiped her tears and looked in a sense of awe. She was surprised to see his eyes show real concern and there was not a hint of mock in it. Suddenly, she said, "I am sorry,I thought you don't like me!".

"Why shouldn't I like you, I thought you didn't like me and so I never tried to speak to you", replied Shravan.

"Are you this friendly?, i never thought so", Preethi couldn't believe her eyes.

"Yes, I Am! Friends?", Shravan asked.

"For sure!", replied Preethi laughed.

"OK, now start your scooty carefully and go home safe, by the way, remember to take off the 
side stand or you will plunge for treasures, again", he laughed.

Now preethi looked at him with curiosity and disbelief.

The bitterness in her heart was gone, and the sweetness of a new friendship blossomed.

PS: The characters and the story is fictitious, but the storyline "Never judge a book by its cover" is the lesson learnt this year. We come across so many people, and we presume them to be either good, okay or bad. But behaving with them, opens up a person's true attitude. Looking for GOOD people to have as friends, is like looking for words written on water. So lets take the good from both good and bad and make the world better for us to live in. HAPPY NEW YEAR in advance!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

This week’s WOW prompt is – ‘Bittersweet October’
It is a never ending cycle, a new season comes and an old one passes by. We have myriad experiences that become an integral part of ourselves. So how has your passage been? This week’s WOW prompt asks you to review the lives and times. It could be yours,  or someone you know, or a fictional story! Gather your wandering thoughts and capture all that is bitter and sweet about this season of change.

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

A new year

As she woke up on the first day of a new year, the smell of fresh coffee hit her nostrils, and she was instantly reminded of the list of resolutions that she had made.

To write more, to speak less and to shed some pounds, were the top priorities.

Google Images
A yawn escaped from her mouth and a sudden surge of dread engrossed her as she thought of a diet plan.

"Well, to write something fruitful, I do need a cup of coffee, give me one, I am sticking on to the diet from tomorrow onwards ", she said to her mom.

Her mom smiled and said to herself, "I know that for her there is always another new year, to make start making resolutions anew!"

Written as a part of FSF by lillie Mcferrin. This week's prompt is 'Fresh'.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Six again...

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Write Over the Weekend inspiration for this time

Include this line “I wish I could be six again so I could…” anywhere in your blog.

Google Images

I wish I could be six again,
oiled hair in double plaits,
Piggy banks with little money, given with a lot of love,
getting sweets next to God,
Long skirts in bright but beautiful colors,
Lacto king candy,
Doordarshan and Ramanand Sagar,
Games in the street,
no worries to make plans to cook or clean,
no hurry to catch the bus or train,
and no keenness in adjusting duppatas,
How I wish to eat Ice cream in a stick?
dripping and licking,
sitting in my granny's lap,
listening to her folktales,
interrupting incessantly,
living a life without boundaries…
Oh, I wish I could be six again!

Friday, November 7, 2014

The bridesmaid

Anya looked at her best friend, being hit with a mixed emotion of awe and envy, as her friend was getting ready for her big day.

Bedecked in the best of jewels, her friend was wearing a red saree, the color enhancing her natural beauty.

Google Images
Deep down in her heart, Anya was scrutinizing for some flaws in her friend's looks, but she was failing desperately.

"Well, wow, I am going to meet the luckiest man on Earth today!" she said and hugged her friend close, planting a kiss on her forehead.

As she saw her friend walk down the aisle, love and pride filled her heart, and she uttered a word of prayer for her friend, suppressing behind the tinge of devilish envy.

written as a part of FSF by Lillie Mcferrin. This week's prompt is 'Envy'.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Missing the true Diwali

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Write Over the Weekend inspiration for this time

Write a Letter to someone you miss the most this Diwali.

Dear Grandpa in heaven,

Its diwali, not the kind of the festival that we used to celebrate, the piles of turmeric speckled new clothes of the members of our joint family overflowing, the early morning 'Ganga Snanams' and the innumerable crackers of all kind. You are gone and gone are the moments of togetherness… Aunt's work schedule becomes hectic, uncle's son falls ill and it is evident that everyone wants to celebrate it in his or her own way in his or her own place. We still wake up early, but we do not have the crackers, as we have become aware of where it comes from and what it costs... If you were here, you too would have thought of the same.

Grandpa, there are new clothes still, but there is no one to exhilarate the beauty of the newly clad grandchildren. Every year, after giving us our dresses, you would be waiting for us to come back dressed in our new attire and so do we quicken up to show our new dresses to you, because it was you who would give the feeling to each of us that our dress was the most elegant than the rest. You would say, "Very glad!! Very glad, you look like a princess" and everyone would get the same compliment, and diwali would get complete for us.
Google Images
 The true joy, the true love, the true sense of diwali, a festival for giving, sharing and being together was wishfully fulfilled when you were there. 

Now, diwali happens through the long distant calls. Had you been here, my children would have witnessed what a real diwali would be like, what a feeling of pleasure giving and sharing delivers and how great it feels to be appreciated. I also wish to take a closer look on your dress and appreciate you in the same way as you do… Did I ever, or did anyone else do that to you, thatha?

Anyways, time enlightens us many things and it is quite an expert in making people cope  up for their losses. Time flies, we have diwali every year, trying to follow the traditions that you have enrooted in us, except that we miss you every moment. Keep blessing us, dear thatha!

With lots of love and memories,
Your eldest grand daughter.