Go on, lil one....

They turn around, and walk on.. holding their future in their hands..
We stand still, watching.
Will they be ok? 
We ask our hearts..
We spend our children’s growing years, imagining what their future will be like.
Will they be happy
Will they be successful
Will they be at peace.
We run our lives around them
Only so they will be what you want them to be. Loved. And happy.
It never matters that we put aside our needs.. just so we see them happy.
That one smile from our child, sparks a million lil peaceful smiles within us.
We live for that smile. For that hug. For that ‘I love you, ma’
We know that their ‘You don’t know, anything’ just means ‘Leave me alone’ but we watch from the sidelines.
Our prayers will always be that they’re happy.
And when finally they fly.. spreading their wings, that we helped nurture, a piece of us cries.
We let go.
We let that tear fall.
We want to go back and hug.
We watch quietly from afar.
And when their eyes light up with joy..
We turn around and walk on..
Full with the joy that our lil one
Is happy...

...And you soar high.. turning 18 as you fly..

The day 18 years ago.. I had smiled while I held on to the lil chubby fingers of my older 4 year bright eyed boy, your brother ...we both looked at this peaceful lil bundle with long curvy eyelashes and sighed... 

6 months and I was at peace.. Here was my sunshine gurgling away...

2 years- I looked back... I saw a blur whizzing past me... I turned away and smiled. Life was normal. Everything around me was normal. This little sunny boy....  If one had to look inside they would find a heart of gold. Soft.. sensitive, loving and most generous.. 

Always my sunny boy. 

How do you hold so much love in your heart? 

5 years and our journey with growing up hit us full force.. broken bones notwithstanding.. You managed to bring a smile on the faces you interacted with.

Your mind had its own string.. you swung by.. and each time you went past.. you enveloped your dad, brother and me in a warm hug. 

Your brother and you were the two ends of the spectrum.. you helped spin it so fast that your fingers clasped each other every passing moment.

If ever there was an emotion to describe you.. it would still melt in a puddle of warmth, compassion and madness. 

The ‘you don’t know anything, Ma’ was a recurring dialogue in our lives. Soon it happened that I really didn’t know and I was learning things from my child and I realised I was prouder now than I ever was before. 

I wish you the courage to grab all the opportunities that will come by you and I wish you the perseverance to live your life to the fullest.

You’ll soon find out that being an adult is much less exciting than being a child. But shhhh don’t tell anyone. That’s our secret. 

I can’t guarantee that your life after eighteen will be totally smooth. But as your friend, I guarantee that Appa, Rishi and I will always stand by your side whether you are eighteen or more.. 

Go fulfil your dreams and stay joyous as you always should be. Don’t look back in regret. Look forward with hope. 

Be a star in the lives you touch. Spread your sparkle and keep smiling. And someday when your lashes get entangled because they’re too long, remember not to cry.. It’ll just get worse.. Let it be....Let go....Soar high...and spread love beneath your wings..,

And pick up the phone....because I will continue to worry..

Happy 18th! My dearest child.. Amma loves you

An age, a licence and the confidence of being a teen

And so the day dawned.. The day that the boy had been waiting for since he stepped out of his 10th std all of 16 years. The day he thought, 'life is one picnic, because he had joined college'

A two wheeler is the dream of most kids that age. My son was no different. He ate, drank and dreamt of riding a two wheeler to college. He did not foresee a wall in the form of his mom. No son, no licence, no touching the vehicle ever. He was shattered. He had a long list of reasons ready.
"A is also my age, and his father has got him a licence by changing his birthdate"
"X is riding his bike the last few months, he hasn't been caught till now"
"We can get a licence from xyz town, they give a licence very easily"
Excuses and reasons were aplenty. But none that were legal, or that would be accepted.
I had refused to budge.
A friend tried telling me, "You rode a bike when you were that age, so why not him? I let my child ride the bike when the roads are empty"
My parents feeling extra proud of their daughter would extol the varied pursuits of hers. "Your mom rode a bike when she was in her 6th class. She would do this,she would do that.."

For me it wasn't about the roads. It wasn't about the safety of my boy on the roads. It was about ethics. When the law was not permitting, he will not do it.

But sadly, teenagers have a rule book of their own. I'm not categorizing all teens. It's mostly what I know,we as mothers discuss about and stress about.

I was told, that my boy might ride a vehicle behind my back. While in college or while I wasn't watching. At that I was confident. I had brought up my boy to be honest. I knew I could trust him. He had given me that equation. The equation of belief and trust.

Every two months he would plead with me. He would ask to go to the class right down the road, or for his hair cuts when there were time constraints. He bullied me, he cajoled me. He called me names. ( Yes, he did that. I'm sure there are other kids too, who do it) He was angry, he was feeling defeated.
Here was his mother who was acting 'weird'. Who was not like 'other moms'. 'Here was a woman who hated him'

Dear son, I wish you really know the agony I go through watching you hurt and upset. There have been times when out of frustration, I've wanted to hand over the keys and say "Ok, just this once" . It's been tough for me too. To stand and be honest to my principles.

I had said "You turn 18, get your license and the vehicle is yours"

It's been 2 years of stress, fear, uncertainties for the mother in me. As much as I would like to be strong, when it comes to one's own child, we are putty in the hands of these emotions.
It's hurtful to watch that boy who towers over you feel defeated. Feel upset.
But the only thing I have to say is, it hurts for now yes. But if something were to happen, god forbid, because you relented and it was against the law, as a parent you will never survive the mental agony.

I'm glad I stood my ground. My boy all of 18, confident and happy now, a wee bit disappointed with his mother, but putting that aside ,walks off with his documents in hand. Says he will not pay an agent. Says he will do it on his own. And that he is old enough.
Yes, he did manage..though there were a hundred calls to the mother in the few hours. But he did it.

And I'm a proud mother of a boy who now holds a licence to drive a vehicle.

Phew!
I now will just continue to worry...

Can 18 get any better?

       The books said, that the feeling is so amazing.. That once a baby is born, your world is brighter, it changes.. I didn't feel any of that. All I could remember was that I was done with the push and the scream and the pain.. I smiled at the boy baby they showed me and I promptly went kaput. It took me a couple of hours to get to being the 'Mother'... The first hold, the gentleness that I felt when I saw the most adorable face (that was the only part I could see) can never be described. And to hold those feelings precious, that only I can treasure. He was mine.

He made me his, when he followed me around holding my fingers...refusing to let go. When he refused to go to others I felt a sense of victory. (Later I wished, he'd go to someone, anyone ,so that I could at least use the bathroom when needed)

A child whose eyes twinkled when he laughed, taught me to hope. To live, to be happy for no reason at all. Each time there was a dip in my life, all I had to do was watch him look at his world and mine would be alright. He was my boy. He was my first born. He became my existence.
Time travels..and with it, it teaches experience.

Experience to know that the one who held your fingers, will glare at you if you get extraloving in school. No mom, you can't hug me...'I'm not a baby'...
But dear one, I need to hug you for myself.
His questions  became fewer, and his friends became more.

One day when he comes back from his cricket practice all by himself, I had no idea I'd be overwhelmed. I was learning to let go.. No more did I think that every auto guy would kidnap him nor was I worried he would take the left turn at the first sight of a HDFC bank.

For the mother in me, I didn't need big things to make me proud and happy for him. He was my Doberman... Moody ,snappy and silent at one, and then chattering away n happy the next, wanting me to hug him and pamper him.
I have truly and properly handed him my OCD genes.. And when I whine, my husband rolls his eyes at the madness we bring in.
The boy grew up and a young man soon followed. The young man closed his room door, spent more time inside, listened to songs the mother hadn't heard of even...
And refused to watch the absolute 'junk' (in his words) tv shows with me anymore..
I grew from being his 'sweetypie', 'loveyooo', to 'chill', 'nerd' to 'weird' mother. I've lived it all. But through it all,one thing was constant. 'You don't know anything, MA'...of course we moms don't know anything at all..but to watch their babies grow wings and fly away while we swallow that lump in our throats, for fear of being weird again.
I am the mother who will tear up, seeing her son bring home medals and praises from school. I will also tear up when I see him being generous with his affection to his friends who've gone through bad times. We understand and we just love.

Today as he turns 18 years.. I let go. I let go of my need to think of him as a baby. I let go, of my need to fear the worst for him. I know he will survive, I've taught him well. I let go of my fears for him...I let go of my boy. Go on son, dream on, live your dreams, make mistakes, learn from them, have the strength to accept your faults and forgive. Be a good human being..and just live your life.

In 18 years that baby I was holding is a young man now. That protectivenes I feel is still there, but I have been forced to slowly let him go.  This might be the hardest part, watching him step out into his own life and make mistakes, guiding him without nagging, balancing his need to be autonomous with my need to cling to him.. I will want to shout at him as he walks out the door, “I have kept you alive and well for 18 years, don’t mess this up for me now!"

But always remember, your 'weird' mom will forever love you and will continue to wait up, till you get back home to ask you 'Have you eaten anything?'

Here's wishing my big boy all of 18 the very best he can ever dream of... Sigh!! Even that bike that he always wanted.. Yes..

At 18, everything is possible and tomorrow looks friendly. - Jim Bishop

"So let's make this a memorable occasion
In every single way
And I'll be there to help you
Ensure it's a wonderful day. -

The love of friends and family
Will be with you today
So enjoy the many wishes
Which are bound to come your way"

Happy birthday my son 

Will they always be an experiment?

"You never got me a mobile phone when I was that age!" Screamed the 17year old. 
"But I haven't got him one as yet, so why are you getting so upset about it" I  replied... 

"You always give in to his tantrums, but you never bought me anything" 
"He is watching tv till 10 o'clock"

Life is normal in our household. Silence is what I need to fear.
For a child who was the firstborn, and always had my attention life gifted him 'big boy' status in a matter of hours. For a child who was being fed his dinner the previous night, was suddenly asked to behave like a big boy. "Your mom is busy with the baby" they said.
Much as I would like to change many things then, I know, that there will always be something that will pull at my strings of guilt.
Will a mother ever be biased with her children? There can be many answers to this. But I'd like to say, that at some point in time, we just do that. And it's always the older child that bears the results of all our experiments in parenting.

As a mother of a 4 year old when my second son was born, I had no idea that I would be dealing with my own confused conscience years later. It was always learning on the go. No amount of elder speak or books or advices can prepare one for the issues that a child can bring in.

I have done it. I am guilty. I have let my boy grow up overnight and expected him to be all understanding. I didn't know any other way. But little does he realise that he got the best part of me.  The younger child always had the liberty to fall or to stay back late or refuse something. Only because I knew by then thanks to my 'big boy' that it would all be ok. It was not life threatening.
The first borns will always remain an experiment in the parent's life. They want to do their best for the child. And with no prior references, we turn to letting life teach us.
The younger ones will get by. We are aware that climbing a tree, will just result in a fall, broken bones, hospital visits and it's all going to be ok. We learn.

But have the firstborns learnt? That their parents love both equally? There will always be a time where they will judge their parents and will come to their own conclusion. But I will say, it's ok let them learn. But don't stop being what you have always been.

And she will fill her world with colour..

"Daughters are like flowers they fill the world with" .......



She had always wanted a daughter...they seemed special to her. Their eyes always pleading to love them. And all the time while she was studying, she would baby sit friends and aunts daughters. There was an inner peace.
She prayed she would have daughters when her belly grew with the life inside and the angry kicking.
She went to sleep knowing,those restless feet that pushed through her swollen belly belonged to a baby boy, who'd fill his mother's life with joy n absolute chaos. Twice she had hoped. But there were plans being made above..girls in her life would hug, kiss and implore. And then one day walk away into the arms of their man who would love them just as much.
But she was blessed.. She would have not one but two wonderful girls, walking into her life, in the arms of the boys she had borne. Them she would watch, while they cared and loved and brought that twinkle in her boys' eyes.
Yes. She had always wanted a daughter. And she will get one

This post is written for the Marathon bloggers December session. Tuesday themed and how... 

#MB2013 

The disaster of this moment is tomorrow's blessing :)

“You can't spend the rest of your life tiptoeing around to try and avert disaster. It won't work. You'll just end up missing the life you have.”
― Kim Edwards,   

And I agree.

As a young girl, studying in college, living a life filled with dreams..I can imagine what life could have been, had I prepared myself for the worst. It won't happen, ever.
How much can one prepare for the future? It is a tough task.

We can dream..we can try to realise those dreams. But if we start living the day thinking of all the failures that can happen with those dreams, we can never achive anything. We lose the present moment, the joy of visualising what we want, the smiles and twinkle in the eyes. We worry ourselves silly with thoughts that are negative and then drive ourselves to despair and disapoointment.

Don't ever let your negative thoughts, turn your dreams into a disaster ever. Give them wings and let them fly. Reach for the stars..you will never know what you might find on the way. If not the stars, rest assured the journey to reach them, itself is made lovely.

So dream on, and turn every moment into one happy one..

This is my post for day 4- Disaster. as part of our blogger prompt week, for Marathon Bloggers

It's Monday ...but it is OK :)

DAY -3 Monday :)

So come Monday and the schools reopen and my life is going to be back to regular. I am so lookin gforward to it. Some call me crazy. Yes I am. There should be someone in this space who will like to swim against the tide and that is ME :)







When the whole world groans and moans about a weekend getting over and the Monday looming in the horizon, I get all excited.I like weekends. I am not complaining. There is a small bit of peace when you dont need to follow a rigid timetable. But the high I get from a day that is packed with energy and work, is not to be compared. After my sons started going to school, I started loving Mondays all the more. The routine, the hectic pace with which the day moves and the certainity of a pattern...that's something I thrive on. I'd rather go to bed exhausted, bone weary and hallucinating than spending a day lazing around.

Being a stay at home mom of two boys, a teen and pre teen, makes me crave for some me time. I and I get it, when i'm nose deep in my work at home on weekdays. Not for me are the lazy weekends, where there is no saying if breakfast gets eaten at lunch time or eaten at all. :(
So mad rush for the week, waking up early mornings..savouring the beautiful silence of that part of the day..the silence of the mind that gives me the chance to collect my thoughts and dreams. It has always been a favourite part of my day. and with lots of honesty I can say...
I LOVE MONDAYS :))

Crave...thirst and goals

To fill up the senses
to quench the craving
the need to fulfill

Isn't that what we seek
To flourish
to succeed

To always be happy
To see the smile
Of belonging

The thirst for love
For health, for money
and for all that it means

Isnt it simple
A task born out of thirst
and need

So where then
Is the end,
the end to all the need

Where thirst ends
Your goal diminishes
and the horizon blurs

So keep at it
Cherish the need
and savour the fruits

That thirst brings

As weird as we can get!

“Through the blur, I wondered if I was alone or if other parents felt the same way I did - that everything involving our children was painful in some way. The emotions, whether they were joy, sorrow, love or pride, were so deep and sharp that in the end they left you raw, exposed and yes, in pain. The human heart was not designed to beat outside the human body and yet, each child represented just that - a parent's heart bared, beating forever outside its chest.”
― Debra Ginsberg

Last night my teenage son announced that he was going out for dinner with his friends. I had just come away from my kitchen, after making the rotis, that he loved so much, and the dal, the younger sunny boy loved. There was peas pullav too, if he wanted rice, which invariably he would want if I hadn't made it. I had just settled down feeling smug, that I had just about managed to understand my boy and today I had succeeded. And then his 'matter of fact' announcement happened. My heart was angry. I did the first thing i'm sure any mom would do, I asked him 'WHY'. His answer was simple and just that. He wanted to go out and eat with his friends and there was nothing else to it. 

We mothers are weird like my boys say. I want them to be independent, I want them to have friends, because, these are going to be their lifelines when they grow older. The boys see us, surrounded by friends. I have a treasure trove of them and want the same for my boys too. That's a small thing to want. But then, why did I react the way I did? Because I convince myself that i'm just normal.
Took me back to my childhood when we would sulk, when the dish made for dinner was not to our 'exciting' standards. (The same food is my comfort food now). We would walk across to my neighbour's house and eat what she had cooked. It didn't hurt then. It hurts now. Now when I think of what we put our moms through. We are our mother's daughters. 

I see the same rebellious spark in both my sons. I see the same emotions and the same 'groan'. They are my sons after all. At times, I am the paranoid parent. I can imagine all sorts of nonsense that can happen in their lives if i'm not around. I feel I am a superwoman who can prevent them if i'm around. I have my friends who hold me back. Who tell me to let go. I am learning. It hurts. It slowly dries up the tears that flow inside. And one day I see my boy standing tall, confident, happier and with that spark still in his eyes. I know I did the right thing.

Teenagers can be difficult. For themselves and for their parents. But inside they are just small lil boys waiting to be hugged and told that we still love them. 
My mother was not an expressive lady, like most of them of that generation. She loved us nevertheless, in her own way and we knew it. In every single movement of hers. Each time I stand at the door to say a 'bye' to my older son as he steps out for his college, I know i'm carrying on a tradition that my mother followed, which then didn't mean much, but its in my bank of memories that I love. I know my son loves it too. And i'm hoping that one day both the boys will turn back and think of their childhood with as much love as I do. 
My mother saw me through and i'm forever thankful. 

I am 'the weird, crazy' mom to my 17 and 12 year old boys. I get angry and scream and sulk. I hug them and smother them with love too. But I let go too. I see them grow and I am proud of what they are.

I am a mother. These 2 boys gave me that right. And i'm forever thankful too.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO EVERY MOTHER. And continue to be weird, that is our exclusive right :)

Stranger Blues

“. . .sometimes one feels freer speaking to a stranger than to people one knows. Why is that?"
“Probably because a stranger sees us the way we are, not as he wishes to think we are.”
― Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind

Its been many years since we all got onto the virtual world. Some of us out of curiosity. Some because we just wanted to see for ourselves what the rest were talking about.
I was sceptical at first...nervous because I never knew what to 'know' or how much I should 'know'. I clicked on the keys of the keyboard and what sounded like clicks at first slowly turned musical. The words typed themselves. The virtual world was thrown open to an individual, who believed that 'if you want to stay in touch with your friends, you need to make the effort.' I did just that. The friends brought in others who had dropped out of the planet, but were thrilled to be drawn in and find some smiling faces that they had left behind.
They were the familiar faces of my childhood- the ones who had hidden in the dark with me, the ones who I had shared secrets with. Some of them I had never imagined would ever go away. But go away they did..and they just remained as names. Some had held my hand through happy times, and some through those insane phases. They grew with me. I held on because in them I found peace.
This world somewhere conspired and brought in the yearning to jot down my insane thoughts, and with them came in a whole new world. They read what I wrote, commented, some felt for me, and some with me. Some came back and waited for more. In no time, the line between the stranger and friend dimmed. We shared, we laughed, we whined together. We understood. The only face I knew was the one on the screen in front of me, some stayed as flowers and cartoon characters they depicted. It didnt matter, I had already put a face to the words they spoke to me. The face spoke to me. Soon, some faces turned into friends we met, laughed and dreamt all over again.
Some I have yet to meet. Some I know I will not or might never meet. But they have all remained a part of my being. Of my growth as a human. One never knows how easily we slip into a conversation that we might never have with our own close ones. Its amazing how a person who was once a stranger suddenly means a lot to you...
What is it that makes the unknown so treasured yet so unpredictable?
I am still on this journey....

16 is not the same as 17..

That non stop chatter that would fill my house and my life all his young days. The need to tell me with actions and effects all that happened at school, at play. I could never say 'Later'..He would follow me around like a lil puppy. He would call out to me so often, that many of my friends and cousins would bully him saying that "Yes, she is your Ma, and she's not
running away anywhere", and it didnt stop him.

From tricycles to hotwheels cars, to tracks, to gameboys and psps to mobile phones to laptops..life moved on at a breakneck speed. As a 2 1/2 year old who refused to go up on stage for his fancy dress competition dressed as a clown, only because he was scared. Those big drops of tears that fell down his cheeks broke my heart then, that I had actually given in and played his favourite song "Soldier, soldier" from the same movie of Bobby Deol. It played its magic and he walked away clowning around and winning his first ever prize.
The apple of my eye..and yes he is. He towers over me..and sometimes it unnerves me. The lil child whose hands would cling to mine now reaches out to me, even if i'm to cross a road. And then I look back and smile. He is still my lil boy, the lil puppy, Only now, his eyes do the watching, but now it is watching over me, not waiting for me to reach out. It brings a lump in my throat, and the eyes as always tear out. I still get a call if i'm not at home when he gets back from college or play.He still throws his tantrums..which i've learnt how to master. He doesnt give up though..but now its to just bully me. The minute he sees me getting all irritated, he walks away with a sly smile and I know i've lost again. When did he grow up?

They say 16 is a sweet age..I agree. 16 is not the same as 17. You are suddenly left with a young man on the threshhold of his life...uncertain about his dreams, because he still doesn't know if he can let go. But strongwilled and determined enough to convince me if he needs anything. This is my lil boy who talked nineteen to the dozen..but now if I can hear 3
words more i'd be ecstatic. His silence speaks to me in different ways, and he knows I understand him more than anyone else. We have an equation that defies all parenting textbooks.
When he tells his father, that it is best to give me space when i'm angry (the cause of anger being him), it makes me wonder where I did the right thing?

His space, his time and his moods. I will cherish them all. It's made him what he is, and in the process, it made me what I am. A proud mother. Always.
But when he insists on riding the 2 wheeler only because he's grown up and 17 already, I refuse to accept that...NEVER.
He's my baby forever.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LIL BOY WHO GREW OUT OF HIS BRIGHT RED BOOTIES AND STEPPED INTO THOSE EXPENSIVE BRANDED SHOES..My blessings and love, forever his.

HO! HO! HO!

Growing up in a convent school, has its many many hours of fun and nostalgia.

 

Christmas season was the best of all. There would be plays, complete with songs, some students playing the piano, the guitar and lots of singing in that choir'ish voice.
There was that spirit of joy, the smiles that spread wide and so much cheer.

I remember going to the chapel (our school had a beautiful campus, with so much of green.) The chapel would be decorated so colourfully. The green of the christmas trees, the pine plants, the red streamers, ribbons, glitter and white of the cottonwool too. Nothing expensive but beautiful nevertheless.

The hours we'd spend making the nativity scene, using brown wrappng paper, colors and crushing them to look like a cave. Who would have thought that this festival was a celebration for Christians bringing in the birth of Jesus. We grew up with faith instiled in us. We grew up with belief. We knew the truth about Santa..but yet rejoiced and were so thrilled to see a Santa coming along with a huge red bag filled with candies and gifts) There would be a day where less fortunate ones woul dbe invited for lunch and would be given gifts too. It broadened our views on giving.

The tradition has carried on with my children too. They have their Christmas parties while in smaller classes and as they grew older they got involved with the lunches for the old age home the school organised. Each year, they come back with a small goodie bag with a fruit cake and some cookies. Its nostalgic.
I wouldn't have a Christmas in any other way. I still look forward to the day with the same enthusiasm. The gifts and cheer is contagious.

But times have changed now I see. The belief is diluted. When my son was in kindergarten, the Santa for their school party was but naturally the plump little teacher who was built tall. My son had come back home that day with a frown on his face, which i've never been able to change so far. " The santa in our school is a girl" he'd come back all forlorn..and i'd smiled and asked how can he say that? And he'd said "I saw the earrings and it IS Gina ma'ms."

Last year we had organised a Christmas party in our Apartment Complex, and to our horror, the Sanat turned out to be a scrawny, small built young boy, who went around pinching the kids. Where has the joy gone? I 'd felt like asking him, but then I realised, he has not been to a school and might never have seen a Santa at all..so how would he know?

8 years have passed and now he knows there is no real Santa..but i'm glad he's as mad as his mom..and still smiles wide when he sees a Santa Claus going past.
So now I get to baking an Oreo Brownie, a recipe that has been eyeing me from the time it was posted on Saffron Trails blog. I shall make some mulled wine too, thanks to bloggers who are helpful enough to put up the 'How to'

MERRY CHRISTMAS FOLKS' AND LIVE IN GOOD CHEER. BE JOYOUS, BE HAPPY AND KEEP THAT SMILE ALL AROUND, YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN SANTA'S GONNA COME VISITING.


My 25th post a celbratory one for this festive season and for the Marathon Bloggers

The Tiger Comes to Town!!!

"IS HYDERABAD NAMED AFTER HYDER?"- asked a little girl while she was waiting for her snack in the intermission.
Standing right behind them, I couldn't just not overhear. It made me smile. Children are such inquisitive beings, and these are opportunities for parents to give them information that they could hold on for years later. It will be attached with memories they will connect with visuals, experience and that one night they had gone out with their parent.

It was a scene straight out of my evening. When I agreed to go to the play 'TIGER, TIGER' by the Bangalore Little Theatre,  that my friend had sent an invite to, little did I know, what to expect. I just wanted to watch a play, and this was a great opportunity for me, because it fit very well in my scheme if things, it being a Sunday too. While I was trying to think up a blog post for the day, I remembered the play and made my calls and plans were made. But there was a small hitch. I didn't have company. My kids glared at me, like I was the tiger itself. I had to watch this play at all costs, I told myself. And then I agreed to go along. Just said, 'keep my pass, i'm coming'. And when he asked me if I was going alone? I smiled and thought of my bucket list.. And said, of course, Yes.

The evening was ethereal. I have lived in Bangalore for donkey's years now. But I have never ever visited the Bangalore fort. Shameful yes. I agree.

So when I did through the main gate, I was having a quizzical expression. This? So beautiful? Wow!..Yes The Fort is all that and more. The event "THE TIGER COMES TO TOWN" was a 2 day affair, 'A public history project organised by the Centre for public History in collaboration with the Archaeological Survey of India'.








The play set against the backdrop of the fort, under the starlit sky made it all the more divine. For that piece of history many have forgotten, this was a wonderful journey through Hyder Ali and Tipu Sultan's eyes. The entire production left me awed and wishing I could have done the previous day's Shadow walk, the History trail with Arun Pai. It was so beautiful. The whole evening was so well organised and so sleek. I am so glad I went.

The play itself was brilliant. The actors be it small or big, were so flawless and so at ease with their role.



And there was another achievement  :)

I got to score out one of my lists from the bucket list i'd just made...yippeee..I went all alone, left my kids behind, watched the whole play with no guilt, in fact I enjoyed it so so much. And came back a very happy woman. so yay! to me!!

My 24th day post for Marathon Bloggers..

A kiss that cannot be forgotten!!!

Its not everyday you get to live a life that you've dreamt of.

Its not everyday, you have your past coming back to make you smile

Its not everyday you look back on the years gone by and realise a 'sigh' has escaped your lips, just because, you still wonder 'How it could have been?'

Yes..Its not everyday that all these thoughts go past your mind, and it leaves you searching, clinging to those few moments that have been made into memories. That's exactly what the protagonist in the story "The secret wish list" by Preethi Shenoy goes through.

A humble story, the lines which make you stop and ponder. Because i'm so sure, every woman however happy she is today, will always have that one fleeting thought, that goes ' Thats one thing I wish I had done before I got married'
The book does not justify any actions, morales or any kind of upbringing. Its clean, neat, crisp and just plain simple. For people who understand (which is not very difficult) the needs of the woman Diksha, they would also feel the pains of Vibha (her cousin), Tanu ( a school friend-every child would have had).

There is an ease with which Preethi has made Diksha's thoughts flow, that even for a person who houses conservative thoughts about life, will think twice before judging her.
There is a bit of Diksha in everyone's life, and there is always that little bit of longing in a girls heart. This is put through so beautifully, that you just want to know what happens next, and before you know it, you are nearly building up her life for her.

I loved reading her book, and of course, I do have a secret wish list too. But I just could not put this one down, because of course, I wanted to know what the two lines at the back of the book that says -

"Does true love really exist?
Can a kiss change your life? "

actually mean. And find out I did, and wow!! It was so worth buying this book. A fast paced and exciting story, one would not want to put down in a hurry.


This is my day 23 post for marathon bloggers

I WILL :)

At Marathon Bloggers, we are one mad bunch. No doubts about it.

This week at the beginning, as decided we all thought we would list out our 'Bucket lists'. Call it paranoia? The Doomsday conspiracy? Or Just plain coincidence. Well Bucket List it is.

 

 

I said, I'd already done this a while ago..so maybe I should go check out what i've done and never gotten to even looking...well!!...I've spent half my morning trying to search my posts, but the post itself seems to have taken a walk into the sunset..

So I shall set out to make a new one..As we grow older we are entitled to change them, according to the needs, the demands, the technology and of course the MEMORY :P

I have never thought of it as a list to be ticked off before I die..NAH!! I don't ever think such negative stuff..its ecah day at a time please!!!
But these are a few I would love to have achieved sooner..

1.Climb the Mt Everest.

Its such a task that i've set myself out to do, that I still wonder..but i'm not giving up. The Himalayas, are my muchly loved mountains..that i've asked my ashes to be sprinkled from the top..that they happily dance down to the steep slopes. On one trip to Gangtok, my cellphone managed to wriggle away from me, and slid down to the steeps. I was happy strangely that it had got its final resting place..ya ya..I know, its weird, but I was envious too.

2. Kalaripayattu. This is one form of dance that i've always and will always want to learn. Yes, I know its an easy task. But being such a skillful procrastinator, i've never gotten around to doing it. So jump up in the air, and with flying kicks and graceful movements, Kalaripayattu it shall be..

3. Travel alone with just my girlfriends for company. This was the beginning to travelling alone. For those who do it regularly, they might never understand. But marraige tied me down, emotionally, physically and mentally. NO one restricted me, but I always made excuses. So a few months back, when a couple of my friends decided to travel without our families, I just went ahead. We were 4 of us, travelling to Bangkok, much to the amusement of the husbands, who just not fathom why 'Bangkok' But it was more about easy planning, shorter duration and most of our husbands had already visited theplace before, so we could go on without feeling guilty.. ( If such a word ever exists..sigh!!)

We had  a fun a 4 days. Of course we had those hundreds of calls, asking us for misplaced clothes, missing belts, maggie noodles for breakfast, lunch and dinner. But I have to tell you..I actually shut my mind off while I was there.

4 I want to travel, travel and travel more. I want to see places, like the south pole, I want to go Machu Pichu, I want to stand in front of the dead sea and just look. I want to go to Brazil for their Carnival. I want to trek the Amazon Rainforest and I
want to see all the continents.


5. I want to be able to say 'NO', convincingly and without leaving me in a mess of guilt and agony. I've started the process, but I havent yet mastered it. My sister can't believe I find it such a task.




6. I want to hold a party at home, where I don't cook a single dish, just order in, have a mad time, and go to sleep without, cleaning up the mess. (Yes, i'm obsessed. Even if I were nearly drunk, I clean up the place, rinse out all the glasses, stack up the crockery neatly, and keep the bottles in one place, and make the place presentable for the MAID when she comes in, in the morning. )

7. BIKINI. Its one thing to go and buy it and another to wear it. I want to step out wearing my bikini, on a beach, and have a good time, without feeling conscious about what people think about my body. So on my trip to Bangkok, I picked up not one but 3 pairs ..and now to tick off this wish soon..

8. The other day I was talking to a friend, who was telling me about a music concert, that he was attending. I love music and dance, art in any form. I would love to attend a concert, but i've most times missed going to my favourite artits performances, just because I didn't have company. This is one thing i'd like to do, Go to a concert, alone if I didnt find anyone to come along ...

9. I want to bungee jump in Australia, where you go down and dunk your head into the water. I've heard and seen such lovely visuals about that place, that i've always wanted to try. I'm scared. Let me add. I'm a very adventurous kind. I've gone mountaineering in the Himalayas, done deep see diving, swam in the Indian Ocean with no land in sight for miles around, but I feel I haven't done enough. So there..more adventure and more excitement for me.

10. I want to meet (i've met him before as a 12 year old, but Now when i'm older and know what I want) Amitabh Bachchan and give him a nice big hug. Just sit in front of him while he talks..I can die just listening to him talk.

Ok so there goes my 'Bucket List' and i'm positive i'll be scoring them off sooner.

Shhhh!! Who is it?

'Christmas is a season to be jolly'- I have been told this right from when I was in school. I studied in a convent, replete with nuns, who we always admired. For their politeness, their sweet nature and also made them the butt of our jokes. All those who have studied in such an environment will know what i'm saying.

Its fun, watching the festive joy that everyone partakes, regardless of their religion. Its beautiful to watch. I have only lovely memories of this season. And the last couple of days watching my 12 year old getting all excited about these festivities, I know i'm not wrong.

So, I missed being part of the 'secret santa' on the Bengaluru circuit. I was sad. This would have been my first time and it would have been fun. But of course, Bengaluru Santa, has promised me the top post in the next one. And again as luck would have it..I missed seeing the post on 'Marathon bloggers' (thanks to checking FB through my phone). And by the time I saw it, it was too late :(..Yet again...Now when I read all the posts, I so want to join.

The sonny boy though hasn't been out of the circuit. The kids in the building have formed ther own secret santa group an dare playing with such gesto, that it is infectious. The little hints they pass across, the small gifts they leave for their Santee..awww!!! I know, it is too cute.

 

 

 

To make up for missing this big event on our marathon bloggers, I decide I will write about it..lol!!! And i'm so tempted to join in and guess the Santa for everyone..But my 21st post it shall remain..

Huh!!!!!

It's been 3 hours, since i've sat in front of the screen..and not a single word, has been penned down. I'm blank. I have a lot of topics, to write about. If I had to make a list it could become a post by itself ..But

What do I write about those ?

I'm what one would say...completely mindf*&%..

You know that feeling where, you're sad but don't know the reason why?

You want to do something, but don't have the energy to do it, only because, you haven't got the motivation. You want something, but don't know what? There are many here who are going through this. Too many incidents over the last few days, has finally overpowered our thought process.

In all this gamut of emotions..there is just that one person who can make you smile. That one friend who can say some really mundane stuff and make you laugh. Its uncanny how each time, we always find that dear person. He/she could be your neighbour, your sibling, your school friend or even maybe an online friend who you've never met before.

Some moments just create that comfort zone and you feel much better after that conversation. Some conversations, even if it is with a stranger, leaves you with that smile, a strange kind of an emotion.
I'm sure each one of us here have gone through those emotions. You don't know how or why? But that smile is back.

And just when I was writing this out, one of my neighbours (a weird one at that) on his morning walk, with his headphones plugged into his ears, just walked past my window, and all I could hear was "aa...ooo...pungi...." Some people really give you the laughs...This is the song..

Have any of you been through such?

Marathon Blogging has been such a high..and low, but this is how we all do it..hop one over and take this journey.

Tag'd, dancing away :)

Well I started off the day, with a blank stare. No ideas for a post..and then remembered that Simran and Sirisha had left an easy peasy task for me..so tag I did..

1.Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?
    Never. I find it eats up your insides, and never solves anything. But I never forget, so I will hold that as a lesson to remember in my future




2) What is your astrological sign?
  I said i'd do the tag for Monday..but i'm doing it today..so there, the most confused person in the zodiac family -LIBRA

3) What’s the last thing you purchased?  
   Books :)..Its always about books for me. Hardly a shopper except for the essentials.

4) Did you have a baby blanket? Do you still sleep with it?
   Not that I remember..but my kids themselves don't sleep with one now..so it sure would look odd if their mom went around
sleeping with one!!!

5) Have you ever tried to cut your own hair? If yes, how’d it work out?
  Hahaha..oh yes, many times. If I dodnt like one lock of hair sticking out, it would go. Because it didnt fit in the
scheme of OCD.But seriously, yes, I've tried chopping off the ends and have succeeded in making it look smart and well cut
too.

6) Have you ever sleep-walked?
 Sleep? Walked? Never. Its very ,little of sleep but its a good, dream on kind of sleep.

7) You can only have one of these things: trust or love.
  TRUST. There's no point in  loving someone, if they break your trust always. That hurts.

8) Which of the five senses is most important to you?
 I want all. I can't be without any. But i'm a very observant peron, who can register stuff just by one glance, so maybe Sight. But taste is all important too, because i'm a foodie.

9) Would you be a more successful painter or singer?
  See, if one can be tolerant with my kind of singing, yes, most definitely Singing. But if you got to listen to me sing, then you probably would quickly beg me to paint. So I shall be safe and say I Shall Stick to Painting :)

10) What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?
  Oh!! I have many..You just have to play some music (no, no , not the sad ones they play in the 5-star hotel lobbies..not that, i've never understood that ever. I can listen to western classics, but not in the hotel lobbies.)

But some that make me dance away are
 Dancing on the ceiling  by Cutting Crew

Nothing's Gonna Change My love for you - George Benson

I've had the time of my life- Dirty Dancing

Sara- starship

And one last one for the girl in me who can't get bollywood out of her system..

Jee Karda from Singh is King.. This is such a peppy one sure to make you smile.
For those who know me and are wondering why Amitabh Bachchan's (my all time hero) songs are not in the list..well let me tell you..I'm too possessive about him to let you'll know.
This is one, tag I loved doing..All you Marathon Bloggers, see if you could do this too, for one of your posts..lets smile along the way and dance away too 

The smiles that never reached Santa

 

 

Each morning as a parent readies the child for the day at school, one just dreams of happy smiles, smudgy hands, stained clothes and chirpy faces to get back to them every day. Its the beauty in the vision.

And i'm sure every parent of the 26 little children were no different. There were dreams of tooth fairies, Santa climbing down the chimney, waiting to fill their Socks with gifts. Each child dreams..and every parent nourishes them.

Little did they know the horror that awaited them that morning.

I went into denial..I just couldn't get myself to watch the horror unfold. I just followed textual information. The images would haunt me. But it will forever haunt me. My heart goes out to all those families and friends who lost their loved ones, that day. I feel helpless and inadequate when I read such news. But I shall pray for them.

Adam Lanza's mother had no idea that she was seeing the son off with such rage and intentions. No mother does.

We know that no amount of words, prayers , service or gifts can take away the pain that they go through. But we as bloggers would like to reach out to them in our thoughts and in our prayers.

There are a lot of what could have happened, and what needs to be done. I know at some point of time, there should be a solution to such madness.

As a blogger, I would like to collectively participate in observing a moment of silence for the innocent victims.

“Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.”
― W.B. Yeats, The Collected Poems

Day 18 post for 'Marathon bloggers'