Darjeeling – Down memory lane Part IV

Darjeeling – Down memory lane Part IV

Day 4

Having wasted a precious day on my food poisoning, we had to make the most of the remaining trip in a jam packed itinerary. So we hired the hotel cab (hiring a cab comes out expensive in Darjeeling) & left for Mirik Lake. Since it had just rained, the ferns drizzle & greenery on the way looked splendid. The houses, whether big or small had plants potted & walls painted. A feature I noticed in every house on the way. Had hubby & I not fought on the way, Mirik, with its pine trees & clouds passing through the lake would have been a romantic paradise for us. 

Pic Courtesy: Google Search

But I will always remember this place as the place where we had our first serious fight (girls, they remember all the firsts!). So while hubby was fagging away to show off his anger, I was trying my best to attempt a long solitary walk on the bridge over the lake. I could see people enjoying boating & Pony rides while we 2 stood with fowl expressions on our face. It was best not to try anything more as we had paid for the cab & didn’t want to spoil the trip.

They say sometimes journeys are as beautiful as the destination itself. Such was the case with Darjeeling. Terrace gardens with corn all over, I didn’t know how much to stop & click. We stopped near the Nepal border area as I had not eaten at the good restaurants on the way, thanks to our fight. It had also begun to rain. We took rest in a small shop & I savored the best momos that even the best restaurants in Delhi wouldn’t serve. Soft, fresh & steaming hot, they were just the perfect thing on that rainy day. We gorged on momos & chai & hubby made up for the fight by pampering me with perfumes etc.

The way to Teesta & kalimpong is one of the most beautiful memories of my life.  Let me share a little secret. The reason why I had wanted to go to Darjeeling was that in the song “Pehla Nasha” from the movie “Jo Jeeta Wahi Sikandar”, I had seen Amir Khan enjoying & falling on tea plants & since childhood it was a secret wish to do the same.  And when I saw the tea plantations, I just shrieked “ooooooooh” like an overjoyed child! I went running towards the tea plants & fell on one of them. Mr. Hubby was surprised & laughing! He must’v been wondering what sort of a girl is this. Though now, he tells me he was concerned for the plants since I had fallen on the bunch! Men…

We had a longish photo session & a few meters ahead, we reached a place from where we could see Triveni Point, the point where river Rangeet meets Teesta. I have no words to describe how panoramic the view was so u can see these pics. The calm river Rangeet coming from Kanchenjunga meets the turbulent Teesta coming from Sikkim & the confluence is a treat to the eyes! A must visit. 

Triveni Point from the top

The driver told us, we were to go down to the Delta created by the confluence. Wow! I couldn’t wait. We crossed the Teesta Bridge & reached the Delta. It was monsoon time so the area wore a deserted look however; we were told that in summers, the place is a rafting aficionado’s haven. I have done rafting at Shivpuri as well, but Teesta was just too turbulent, with multiple rapids. I wish it was season time so that I could enjoy the rapids. We enjoyed some quality time together walking barefoot on the Delta’s wet sand & promised we would return someday & do rafting at Teesta.

Teeestaaaaaa!

It was evening when we reached Kalimpong & the driver had already warned us to keep everything quick coz we had be back to hotel before it got late. The nine hole Golf course there perhaps is the most scenic Golf course in the whole country!  The driver also took us to Kalimpong cactus garden which was a well maintained private property. We spotted some amazing varieties of cactus together at one place.

Golf Course

Golf Course

There is also a famous monastery at Kalimpong, the Tharpa Choling Monastry. The silence felt so relaxing & we wished we had more time. But had to cover it in just 20 minutes and hurried to a temple. It was getting dark & it was heartbreaking that I had come all the way from Delhi to Darjeeling & was missing out on Sikkim due to a wasted day of food poisoning. But the damage had been done. We reached hotel back in time for dinner but it had been a long & tiring day & before we knew, we had dozed off.
Read about the final day of the trip here...

Cactus at garden in Kalimpong

Monastry in Kalimpong

Darjeeling – Down memory lane - Part III

Day 3

We were woken by the kukdoookoo of the rooster outside our hotel  window. Let me tell u something strange about this Rooster bhaiyya. We all have heard that the kukdookoo happens with the crack of dawn. However, rooster bhaiyya ensured the lazy folks got up on time. You could snooze the alarm, nit him. His periodic kukdookoo could be heard way past afternoon as well!

But something inside me wasn’t right. The palak paneer I had gorged on the night before didnt go well with my tummy. Burp & all the good things I had savored in dinner came out one by one. Mr. hubby was scared of my sudden food poisoning. Medicine, mint, chocolate, whatever I took refused to go inside. A SOS call to parents in Delhi & some timely homeopathic medicines did some damage control.

We had planned to head to Kalimpong and Sikkim that day but now my only option was to rest in my hotel room & listen to Rooster bhaiyya. Mr. Hubby knows how to make the best out of worst. Movie was a good option, I just had to sit & watch. In Delhi, I am used to reaching in time, to get tickets in time. But this was Darjeeling, laid back and chilled out. The theater showing Hindi movie was almost empty! I enjoyed the show like a private screening & changed my seat thrice until hubby signaled me to control.  

By the time the show ended, my sickness had disappeared and the tummy wanted some fuel. And we discovered this cosy eatery called Boney’s snack bar in Capital Market. No fancy interiors or menu, but the brother sister duo who run this place serve sandwiches & pastas as per your choice & with free smiles & hospitality. Hubby became a fan of this eatery & this became our breakfast point for the remainder of the trip.
Read about Day IV of the trip here...

Darjeeling – Down memory lane - Part II

Day 2

The hotel staff had asked us to wake up early, for we had to go to Tiger Hill. We had heard so much of “a must visit” Tiger Hill. Since the spot offered a scenic view of Mount Everest along with Kanchenjunga, Hubby & I were up at 4 so that we could catch the glimpse to our heart’s and camera lens’ content! But they say, excess of everything is bad. Over excitement proved us expensive. Clouds played spoil sport. We waited and waited with endless cups of coffee. The place has a lot of local women serving piping hot coffee they carry in thermos flasks. After we realized it won’t be anything more than a coffee date, we decided to capture whatever we could and moved on…

This is wat we expected (pic courtesy: Google Search)

This is what we saw

Spoil sport

The driver was a good chap & seeing our disappointed faces, he suggested we visit the Ghoom monastery which fell on the way back to our hotel. The toy train was like a fast friend, meeting us every time we were out to explore the lovely Darjeeling.  It was a treat to see Ghum station, a small platform which has retained its old world charm. You can even catch a glimpse of the station in the movie Barfi.

Toy Train!!!

Ghum Station

Buddha Statue at Ghum monastry

Ghum monastery, also known as Yiga Choeling Monastery has a 15 ft high statue of Maitreya Budhha. My exposure to monasteries had till now been confined to the documentaries on Discovery. Actual rendezvous was a treat for my eyes. The colorful paintings, architecture, prayer bells spoke of rich culture. By now, we had began enjoying the drizzle which never stopped. We got a nice blue umbrella from one of the shops near the monastery.

Anybody loving to shop in Palika Bazaar in Delhi would love the several shopping complexes in Darjeeling. Just like Palika, the shopkeepers give u a visual scan & quote the rates. I found the fashion sense a step ahead of Delhi & if you are well versed with the tricks of bargaining, then it’s a shopper’s paradise!

A nice, long and romantic evening stroll was followed by an authentic North Indian dinner & we called it a day.
Read about Day III of the trip here...

Darjeeling – Down memory lane (Part 1)

Darjeeling undoubtedly has been my best trip ever for two reasons. First, it was my first trip with Mr. Hubby so thinking of it reminds me of all the lovy dovy stuff we were enjoying at that time. Secondly, I have to admit, I haven’t been to another place so laidback & relaxing as Darjeeling. Just like the movie “Barfi”, everything happens at its own sweet pace. It’s great to see a place where people still love to relish the small, simple joys of life, a welcome change for us from the metros, where everyone is running a rat race.

Being pakke ghumakkad (travel freaks), hubby and I are always ready to pack our bags & set out without a notice. However, surprisingly, Darjeeling has been our most planned trip, planned 3 months in advance. 

It was the first time anybody from our families was heading out to the North East & I still remember the concern in my father in law’s voice when he used to call us daily & suggest numerous precautions everyday. But I have to admit, from the moment we landed at Bagdogra airport, there was a not even a single moment when I felt unsafe. The warmth of the people is still afresh in my mind and had it not been for our hectic schedules, once a year Darjeeling darshan would definitely have been on my itinerary.

Day1

The idea of travelling to Darjeeling in the month of July was received with much resistance by family and friends. However, passion needs no bounds. So, on the rainy morning of July 1, 2009, we left home for airport, hoping the rain God would have mercy & not cancel the flight. Just like our cute little destination, the aircraft too was small and cute with only a handful of passengers (mostly honeymooners & families) bound for Bagdogra. Though rain God had mercy, the fear of bad weather kept us anxious throughout the 2 hour flight. I still remember an elderly uncle who had a heated argument with the cabin crew as he was being asked not to move or use the washroom as the weather was bad.  Just too bad for the poor guy, I thought. The frequent chanting of bad weather by the flight stewardess made me somewhat scared as this was my 1^st flight ever. My wicked mind remembered all the plane crash stories I have ever read in newspapers & I was fretting. Mr. Hubby tried his level best to calm me down, trying to divert my mind.

Finally our flight landed at the Bagdogra airport. What a transition – from the gargantuan runway of Delhi airport to the small runway of Bagdogra airport, where one plane landed at a time & quickly made way for the ones about to land. Some things never change no matter wherever you go & cabbies were over enthusiastic to spot tourists. But he didn’t know with us he was inviting agents of decibel torture! As if we had an overdose of laughing gas, hubby & I laughed nonstop during the drive from Bagdogra to Darjeeling. The cabbie kept looking back, perhaps scared if we were insane, as he still had to be paid!

Our hotel was at a certain height from the main road. However, the cabbie, bugged by our bursts of laughter decided he’s had it enough. He dropped us abruptly on the main road & said the resort was just 10 steps up. Before I could look back at him to tell him it seemed more than 50 steps, he was gone! Price paid for our paagalpanti! Hehe …like mules, hubby & I dragged ourselves up the hill till the bellboy spotted us & came to our rescue!

After attacking the room service menu & taking some rest, we set out for a long romantic evening walk. The place had an old world charm like I had seen in Kasauli. The antique architecture and relaxed environment stole my heart. Coffee & muffin at the famous Gelenery’s further ehanced my spirits. Exhausted by the travel & the climb up to the resort (yes, we had to do it every time we went out for a walk), we dozed off much before dinnertime…

Read about Day II of the trip here...

Pic courtesy:Google Search

Pic courtesy:Google Search

The forgiven...

Today, me wonderzzzz about forgiveness…

As a kid, forgiveness to me was about dancing behind mom whenever I did something wrong. She wouldn’t shout or spank. She would just give a foul stare & stop talking to me. So whenever I got that look, I knew I had it from her. As I grew up, the mistakes reduced but her modus operandi didn’t change. I too made a discovery. When asking for forgiveness, the way to the heart is through the stomach. So whenever I had to ask forgiveness, I would stand with an “I am innocent” look with her favorite cup of chai in hand. Now that she is no more, I can’t even ask her why the “royal ignore torture” policy gave her more satisfaction than spanking.

Pic courtesy:Google search

In school, forgiveness was about crocodile tears, coz that was the only way one could escape a slap from the teacher. Donno why, teachers of my times felt the child was forgiven only after they fulfilled their quota of punishments. Thankfully for me, I was mostly in good books but I can recall the faces of children when teachers summon their parents to school.

College was a step ahead. There was no room for forgiveness. Since teachers could make students dance to tune of the “mandatory attendance” factor, there was no room for forgiveness. I still remember that in my final year of college, my friend & I were punished for being 5min late for the lecture. (Actually, it was more than that…we had dared to giggle looking at the professor & he thought we were making fun of him!). He made us stand outside the class & when fachchas passed by, we felt like criminals facing media persons.

Then came corporate life & the mantra was “to err is to lose out”. There was cut throat competition and rivals waited for that one error from u that would make their day. No wonder the seeds of six sigma were sown at that time, so that one realizes the importance of being error free.

With friends, life is simple, they forgive or they are forgotten!

In relationships, forgiveness is something every girl likes to give & every guy has to ask for, no matter who made the mistake. But it irritates me when I see most wives making their husbands dance around for real petty things. As for me, Mr. Hubby happens to be my mother reloaded. Same silence more extended. And it’s back to childhood for me, as I dance around with his favorite dish in my hands & “I am innocent” look. Just that it takes longer for my Kaikeyi to come out of the kope bhawan & I wait & wait.

Well, the purpose of me sharing all these experiences is not to bore my readers. I wonder why is making mistakes so easy & asking forgiveness so tough? Actually it’s the interim phase that’s more frustating, when we wait for the verdict, just like a cricketer awaits decision from the third umpire. Half of the world’s issues remain unresolved because it’s a pain to ask forgiveness. Since childhood, whenever I have wanted forgiveness, I have prayed to God to simplify the procedure a bit. 

I thought & thought. From banners one could wear on head to a light system like the ones third umpires use to give their verdict; from spokespersons to God doing the job on our behalf, I had the wildest of wild ideas, anything that would spare me the torture of being ignored, spanked, scolded or made feel miserable.  I saw my pet dog…he looked so cute that he seldom had to ask forgiveness, no matter what he did. “From sms to tweets, when everything in life is becoming simple, short & sweet, why not the procedure of forgiveness?”I thought.

The answer lay in something my mom in law says quite frequently (though in different contexts)…”one should give only what s/he is ready to take.” When it comes to taking, we want the big & the best. We love being pampered & showered with numerous apologies so that we can finally give forgiveness as recognition of several tough efforts the seeker has made. What happens when roles are reversed? The same us who love being apologized to, take to self pity & look for easy options that would save us the effort. When mistakes are ours, then apologies are ours too.

An honest confession…

Despite penning down this overdose of gyaan, my heart tempts to install a light system (similar to the ones third umpires use) in my house. The seeker could write the apology in not more than 50 words (only written communication allowed). Till the time, there’s no light showing result, there would be high decibels of continuous “I am sorry” enough to bug/deafen the giver; the red light would have a permanent dysfunction so that just like Hindi movies, there would always be a happy ending!

To the readers, who stopped reading midway, or got bugged by this boring post, my sincere apologies. Happens with me too, but sometimes, it is better to write it out!

Pic courtesy:Google search

Song review – Lat Lag Gayee (Race II)

Mr hubby & I are poles apart in our choice of movie songs. I am a retro while he is a metro & loves to try out new things. I feel like an antique piece when hubby & niece discuss the latest songs. But that’s the beauty of being married. The best of both come together & we are an amazing Antakshari team.

Few days ago, he called me up & was humming this song in some ‘”Uh uh uh aaaa yey” I was like “you fine?” He then said it was the latest hottest number from Race 2. He usually updates the old fashioned me however he was all praises for Jaqueline Fernandes. As the wife in me fumed inside, I hid the smoke & lovingly said “Sure baby, will check it out”.

I must admit I usually think all men just like women with less clothes & probably that’s why he was all praises for Jaqualine. But one look at the song & it proved me wrong. The lady is doing all she can to make her mark in Bollywood & the efforts do show. Here’s the song...

It’s the first time that I looked at a song &  noticed the girl more than the guy. Hey! Before u jump on to conclusions, I’m perfectly norrrmal. But look at Saif in the song. He doesn't look normal. He needs some lessons from his new begum on looking young (he can try by throwing that cigarette) and  being more stylish. Once look at the song & he is looking the oldest odd one out in the entire cast. Mr. Casting Director, poor Jackie is making so much efforts to brighten up, at least do justice to her by casting some young actor! I know u compensated for Saif’s fee by cost cutting in Jackie’s clothes. But I just loved her green mini skirt & the overall look.

Overall, the song is a treat & I couldn't help but tap my feet to the amazing techno beats. Shalmali Kholgale has done full justice with her attitude waala voice & has proven her versatility after songs like Pareshaan (Ishaqzade). Full marks to the choreographer for getting the steps right with Jackie, specially the finger on the lips step which caught immediate attention of Mr. Hubby. However, Saif could have done more than just jumping on the fragile dance floor (thump, thump, thump!) & his same old blank face, trying to give the same old macho looks.

4 on 5 from me for the song. The one point has been deducted due to the Chhote Nawab, else everything is flawless.  Maybe its time Saif focuses more on pleasing his Begum than romancing actresses who look much younger than him…

Ek Chhoti Si Hate Story

This blog received a Wow mention @ Blogadda!

Location: Finance lecture

Actors : Mind & heart

Director: But of course, our genius blogger

Background Score: Professor with his fusion of jargons & philosophy

Pic Courtesy: Google Search

Once, the mind and heart were sitting together in a lecture. The mind was trying its best to comprehend and retain the professor’s shower of technical jargons. The heart, on the other hand was greedily looking at the iphone screen on the second bench and the game being played on it.

Heart: I forgot to get my laptop, else I too would have survived the two hour session.

Mind : Shhh! Can’t you see I’m trying hard to concentrate on the lecture? You better not disturb me.

Heart (in a playful mood): Concentrate…ooh as if your rusting neurons & grey matter are as good as that topper sitting on the last bench. Why waste time, when you won’t remember a thing at the sight of the examination paper. No matter how much you try, you never leave your parampara (ritual) of cribbing after every exam. Chill! I have an idea. Let’s try to sleep with eyes wide open!

Mind (infuriated): You wicked heart! How dare you call me inferior? If I don’t cooperate, you will go far from being a good heart to an insane one. Had I not been there, you wouldn't even remember who to love and who to hate. Imagine, what would have been your plight had I created few cross connections here & there.

Heart (with a foul face): Monsieur Heart, just because you do me few favors don’t mean you run the show. Don’t forget, if I leave, nothing survives. Business is all you mean. But at the end of the day, it is I who decide whether the person is happy or sad.

Mind: But I give consciousness, else…

The professor spotted the dilated pupils & immediately popped up a question. Poor mind hastily got its act together & the heart had a hearty, wicked laugh.

Two hours into the lecture, the heart had it enough.

Heart: I am yawning nonstop. Can’t take it anymore. I wanna doze off. Shut up your useless activity & let me rest.

Mind: You think I like all this? It is so tough for me. But what to do. I am the mind. I don’t have the luxury of wanting & desiring like you have. I have to do what is right.

Heart: But we can take a break! You are so tired my dear.

Mind: I am the mind, it’s a horrible life, I can’t rest till the class is on, else I won’t have any inputs even to my subconscious memory…it's technical stuff, you won’t get it. Just stay quiet for another hour & then we can take the desired nap.

Heart: Alright dear, I have no choice, can’t leave you. But I have a condition. Every 5 minutes I want an update on the minutes left for the class to be over, else I will trouble you with my useless nonsense & you can’t even ignore me else I will make you sad.

Mind: You are such a Betaal!

Heart: And u are my darling king Vikramaditya! Hate me, curse me, but u can’t leave me.

Mind: I hate u

Heart: Like I love u

Mind: Okay, all conditions agreed. Now keep quiet for the next hour

Heart (winks): Shhhhhh

The mind took notes religiously for the next one hour while the heart looked here & there and waited for the next time checked.

As the class got over,

Heart (screaming): yippeeee

Mind: Phew! Finally….I am exhausted….who am i? A zombie?

Heart: Hehe

Mind: You must be very sleepy. Sorry. Lets catch up on sleep.

Heart: Now that the class is over, on second thoughts…Neah!  Miss Youtube is waiting for a movie date & I must look my best!

Mind (winks) : Oh!!!!!

Mind & Heart (singing): 

The class ends, the class ends, 

We have become best friends

Lalala!  Lalala!

To see Miss youtube, we cant wait

Lets rush for the movie date!
Lalala! Lalala!

Pic Courtesy: Google Search

This post is a part of <a title="Write Over the Weekend" href="http://blog.blogadda.com/category/write-over-the-weekend-wow" target="_blank">Write Over the Weekend</a>, an initiative for <a title="Reach out to the largest community of Indian Bloggers" href="http://www.blogadda.com/" target="_blank">Indian Bloggers</a> by BlogAdda

Fears...

Pic courtesy:Google search

I have recently started seeing a surge in people wanting to face their fears. Be it the reality show “fear factor”, increasing number of people going for adventure sports, increasing focus on healing one’s life etc. "Sometimes people like to do things just to do something", I told myself. 

Fears are like the clouds in the sky; the shapes might change but they are never out of sight. How is it possible then to face one’s fears in the eyes specially the ones whose very mention give us goose bumps & that sinking feeling in the tummy?

I was watching a famous Bollywood actress in an interview last night. As she spoke about her constant ventures to overcome her fears, I wondered if it is too good to be true. Do people claim victory over their fears or they are just saying it aloud so that their heart can listen & remember to turn a blind eye to those fears?

I am scared of a freaking lot of things in my life. Instead of bragging about my self-proclaimed triumphs over them, I prefer being honest & accepting my fears. It’s good to be human sometimes & I am definitely one.

However, temptation is very wicked. So last night I had this sudden itch of overcoming my fears. They have been hovering around my grey matter all these years but to write them down & accept that they did exist & trouble me, required some guts. My brown eyes obliged many of them with ample saline water & I just let them be… Also jotted down the things I want to do in life….and I must say the list far far faaaar exceeded the list of fears. I’m a greedy gal!

I donno if this will help but when mere acceptance gave me so much relaxation, I hope the journey will just get better now…I wish myself all the best for this new endeavor!

Pic courtesy:Google search

You only live once

We all begin our lives like a white board – clean and clear. As we grow up, we dream of making it big. The grind we endure in academic years is to ensure freedom to earn and do whatever we want without having to look up to anyone. Till one day, we are on our own. Own money, own life, freedom that we had always yearned for. “Wow”, we say, “The party has begun”

Our greedy mind wants more, and there are no free lunches in this world. So we work extra, strive to succeed, get that extra share of pie. The days extend into nights and we become so busy with “just getting it right” that we forget why it all began. To be happy! And happiness no money can buy. It comes from within, triggered by the small joys of life.

The grass is greener on the other side. When we are young and have the small joys at our disposal, we ask for bigger, better. And when we get that bigger, better, we realize that the innocent, sweet fruit of happiness lay hidden in those small joys we once had.

As it happens with anybody at the start of his/career, I, in my first job was at my workaholic best. I would stretch to limits that would surprise my bosses, would eat, sleep and think about my job. My office began to see more of me than my family did. I would enter home just in time for dinner and doze off. Then, one day my mother asked me “Why have you decided to work?” “So that I can be independent & do what I want”. I said. “But are you really getting time to do what you really like doing? How many books have you finished in the last 2 months?” That got me thinking. The rut of life was pulling me inside like a whirlpool, and I was not even realizing it. But when you are 20, all that seems right is big, better and beautiful & so I forgot her words the next morning & happily gave in to the busy bee syndrome.

Many years have passed since this dialogue. Mom & I never spoke again about it. Now, she is no more. I am doing well for myself. But when I see myself not getting time to blog, despite my mind bubbling with ideas, I wonder what’s wrong. Everything technically right happens in life, but suddenly you find yourself hard pressed with time for the people you love and the things you love to do…the reason why it all began…and then you wonder….

As I write, I recall the scene from “Rock On” where Farhan Akhtar turns off his system just in time to be with his rock band!

The lesson, I have learnt is that sky is the limit to ambitions. But one should always give priority to the people one loves & the things one enjoys doing. Coz it is what you love that brings happiness inside…and only if you are happy, you can enjoy any luxury money can buy…

Have a similar experience? 

A home is a home is a home

Whenever I read reports in newspapers about disturbance in a country, I wonder why cant the people there shift their base rather than living in fear of death and uncertainty. The world is a much open place now and anyone can go and settle in the place of his choice & live a better life. And my opinion applies to people living in extreme sub zero climates, places with forever political problems, high militancy areas etc etc. However, I am told nobody likes to leave his house…coz home is where the heart is.

Even the pigeons on my hostel window reflect the same attitude. To be honest, I hate being away from home, away from the happening city, in a place everything, right from food to climate to infrastructure is in a state of despair. Yet, everyday I see a bunch of pigeons living happily on my room window. Its no easy situation for them either. The place is not an ideal destination for enough water, or food for them. Still, no matter how much I try to shoo them away, they always come back to the window. They have a free mode of transport, would need no passport/visas to shift to greener pastures & are not even bound by a residential program (like me!)…so what is it that motivates them?

And then I look at migratory birds in Lodi Garden in winter mornings. Like tourists, they come every year, to survive extreme weather conditions. Yet the comfort is unable to make them stay here forever. Come the right season in their home country & they happily take the long flight back home.

They say the solution to life’s puzzles lies in looking inside, so I introspect. No matter how much I love Delhi, there are people who strongly share the opposite opinion – people from other cultures finding tough to adjust here, tourists harassed  by the locals, people finding the city unsafe…they have their own reasons that nobody can counter. Yet, what is it that binds me to the place? Like a migratory bird, I look forward to taking that first flight home whenever I can…because home is where u feel comfortable and secure… home is where the heart is!

Exams are over tomorrow & I head home! 

Pic Courtesy:Google Search

Men and their “get and forget”

Just like New Year resolutions are meant to be broken, my anti blogging plans always end up in the trash bin! I had told myself – no blogging till the exams are over, no checking of page views. But Dil pe kisee ka zor nahi (nobody can control matters of heart)…and the heart feels like shouting it out loud on this blog!

Like most wives, I too have someone to blame for this problem…

My Super Busy Husband…

So, while he works it out in the office with some new team who is keeping him away from his wife, he doesn’t realize he has become my latest bakra for “Shaivi Ka Funda” Wow!

We always long what we don’t have, get into a “do or die” situation to grab it….as if it’s the most important thing in this world. And once, we have it as ours, closed in the closet, safely. Since there is no risk of losing it now. Such is with men (I know men reading this post will abhor me, but guys, I can’t help but sound feminist, I am agitated right now). 

Scene 1: You see, I am not a typical chocolate, flowers loving girl. And to impress a literature freak like me, he indeed had to work hard. And his courtship period report card has been very impressive…reading out my favorite blog to me, writing poems, birthday wishes in 10 different languages, a  new adjective every sms, discussing new books everyday…etc etc etc…he did it all with finesse. I used to wonder then, is there really something as an epitome of perfect gentleman? Coz he proved it every day. Once he actually stopped on the road while going to office so that he could focus on talking to me. NO work, no meeting was more important than me…and I found this too good to be true. The woman in me, Oooh…was on cloud nine!

Then marriage happens…

And now…

Scene 2:  He wakes up in the morning but waits to be woken up officially by me, announcing tea in a particular way. And just when I am enjoying that favorite article in the Sunday paper, he orders another cup. Had I been a restaurateur, I would have loved the extra order…but my reaction is that of a clerk in a government office, when his boss throws and additional file, just when he is about to reach the new high score on solitaire! I continue to look into my paper like a pigeon who closes his eyes, but a 2:1 ratio (the hubby & mom in law v/s me) has me in the kitchen again!

So, I was saying something about men. Once they know they have us, all other things take precedence on us…the boss who never gives them credit, the colleagues ready to stab in the back, the pest friend always dropping in at the wrong time, all intruders are welcome in the “us” time. All is fair with men and their work. But we women know how to juggle various hats. And then they shower the “you should have done….”gyaan…Men…Phew!

I know now you will say one has his moods, commitments, work…but where is our work when we take out time to talk to them, where is our mood when we happily listen to their stuff even if we have things piled up to do…because we women don’t believe in "get and forget!"

I know Mr. hubby, you will hate me after reading this post…but what could I do…I called you today at work, wanting to have a nice little conversation & the word “boss, busy, business, bye” from you sounded like “blah blah blah” . I know u men have a lot of work, meetings and commitments, but so have we. And add to that, we have home, ur family, our family, kitchen and a lot of blah blah blah to attend to. But we never ignore your calls, always listen even if we are busy & give you priority long even after the courtship period is over. We don’t want you men to leave the world for us, but what we need is some (actually as much as u can) pampering, quality time & PRIORITY…

And now, an honest confession….Now that I have vented it out, I feel I have inflated the issue, just to get some fodder for today’s blog…J

Blogging ke liye kuch bhi karegaaaaa! (Anything for a blog!)

Pic courtesy: Google search

To, the angel who blessed me...

Losses are a part of life. Material, financial, human or emotional, we all go through them sometime of the other. While some console themselves by treating losses as act of destiny, most crib, cry and question why it happened to them.

On this very day, two years ago, I lost the one person I have loved the most in my life, my mother…

Our relationship began right from the womb. While carrying me, she became extremely unwell & was advised to terminate me, but her love for me stopped her from doing so. She often used to tell me that during those days she saw her life in me and the moment I came into this world, she looked at me & felt as if any pain, any illness never happened. She recovered soon after my birth and people around started saying I gave her life…

Like most mothers, she did everything and anything for me, keeping my needs and happiness above her own. But she taught me something nobody else did…to embrace life. An avid reader, she introduced the word “optimism” to me at an early age, and it has stayed with me ever since; finding a place in any description I give about myself. As a little kid, Sunday mornings would begin, not with the usual “TV” but with ma reading aloud interesting articles and horoscope forecasts from the Sunday paper. She would read out a sentence and show me the beauty of literature, and say “someday I would want you to write like this…”

And I started early as well…debates, recitation, declamation contests while still under ten. I remembered how I would never open any prize in the school and bring the unwrapped gift home to mom, ask her to present it to me like they do in award functions and then open it for me. She would take it as her win, her prize and the pride in her eyes was more precious to me than anything else.

My 1^st national award, then 2^nd – she was there with me always, asking me to look at her in the audience if I ever felt nervous while reciting. And when people complimented me for my talent, she took more pride than I did myself! In fact, the year I passed out of college, she told me “with you, I have won so many awards, studied science, and then done hotel management. Being involved with every step of yours makes me feel as if I myself have acquired all these degrees.” Where else would you find a person who feels that way?

In 2006, I wrote her a poem on mother’s day. She never said a word, but the tears in her eyes and that warm hug said it all! Today, I miss her proof reading every time I write, her face cheering me from the crowd every time I go onstage, her organizing kirtan on my birthday, her guidance in every project I take…

A “not up to the mark food” now invites frowns and comments from my mother in law. That time, I always remember my mom kissing my hands every time I made something as she would understand the effort and emotions and acknowledge them.  It’s only the mothers who love you for who you are and not for what you do. Yet it is strange that most of us, after we are on our own, end up doing more for the new relations in our lives, and continue to take and take from our mothers.  And they continue to give, just wanting love and some quality time in return. And that’s how mom was – waiting for me at the bus stop if it got late, waiting for me to have meal together, adjusting her schedule with my convenient time to call, bearing the pain, just for me. The love flowed even on her death bed as, she told me “It’s so much trouble right now that as a human, I would wanna go, but I wanna stay back, to live with my kids"…

And now, it’s an endless wait for me….

Mom became my pillar of strength. Any laurel without her is incomplete and any pain without her is incurable. Yet, she was the one who made me to be the strong woman I am today, taught me to love, share, care and most importantly, think positive and creative.

My hands on this keyboard wouldn’t just stop…I think she deserves a book on her…

Today, as I write this blog, I also realize that we should remember such angels in our lives with a smile, not tears. It’s easy to be selfish and cry on someone’s departure, considering our loss. But, it takes guts to remember the departed with a smile; acknowledge God for bringing them into your life, rather than cribbing about the loss. “The glass is half empty, but also half full” as she always said.

That’s embracing life, and that’s what you taught me mom…

Thanks for everything…May you continue to rest in peace, happiness, smile and radiate that positivism!

Miss u mom! And love u the most!

That's mom & I!

Writing Prompt - I wish everyone loved

This post is written exclusively for the writing prompt by author Preeti Shenoy.

 

I wish everyone loved…

Sharing…

Yes. We all love happiness, smile, prosperity, fun…but for us and our loved ones. What about sharing love and happiness with someone unrelated to us? Someone who’s of no benefit to us? The true test of our character is how we treat someone who can do nothing for us.

We love bigger, better, best. How many times have we not frowned at seeing someone prosper? Not felt jealous of our rivals? Shared their happiness?

By nature, Homo sapiens (that is we, humans) look out when its time to take but look away when its time to give. If everyone relished the joy of sharing, the world would be such a better place!

Perhaps if people knew how to share pain, the unfortunate gangrape incident in Delhi wouldn’t have occurred. It’s our love for self at the cost of trouble for others that is the epicenter of all wrong doings. I wished people "shared" pain as it were their own…and my wish did come true when I saw people out on streets to seek justice for the victim!

But we need more of sharing...

I once ordered Pizzas for friends who were to drop in to my place. The weather worsened & they cancelled their plans at the last moment. I was in a fix … to have a super heavy "Pizza" dinner or give it to my neighbor who would show this huge favor by taking leftover (she would call the sealed packet leftover!) Pizzas. Hubby & I chose the 3^rd option. We took the pizzas and distributed them to the beggars on the traffic signal.   As I prompted a young beggar to take away the Pizza, his eyes twinkled instantly! He ran as fast as he could to grab the pizza before anybody else took it. The happiness in his eyes gave me more happiness than 100 pizzas would have given. And I didn’t know him! Nor was I to benefit from him in any way. Yet, I tasted the joy of sharing….

Me Wonderzzz...

To do something special, one needs to dare

Learn to look beyond self love and care

The world would be a better place

If only everyone loved to share…

That’s my wish…

Shave Or Crave

This post is a part of the 'Shave or Crave' movement in association with BlogAdda.com

Looking at his evening stubble, I roll my eyes & ask him, what is it that u crave? “Am I a gal that I will crave?” he says and walks away. “Men”…I say as I sip my coffee…

We women have a new craving every hour (pani puri, chocolate, shopping, coffee, breezer, Chinese, Italian…an endless list). The Martians (i.e. Men), on the contrary are so predictable, so plain.

If u plot a woman’s choice on a graph, the crests and troughs will drive u crazy...her ever changing moods, wants, desires.  A man’s choice as usual, would be a straight line parallel to x axis! Same socks, shoes, the tattering old t shirt he still holds on to, cricket (wait…cricket…but my man doesn’t even crave cricket!)

“The Gillette must be lying idle and he must be enjoying the smoothness of his single malt”, I grumbled

My cribbing continued…

Men have no cravings coz they get what they want. Even if they crave, they won’t show. Like a charmer, they will get their object of desire. So simple and smooth, just like their clean shaven face. When everything has to be so smooth, then why that evening stubble? Where does the penchant for smoothness go then?

Me wonderzzz…

We women are so brainy & brave

Frustration we hide and patience we save

Woo him first and then make him crave

Till he gets a smooth, clean shave…

As I plan, he comes, his eyes shine,

brings his gillete  shaven  face next to mine

I smile as I notice his shave

He whispers in my ears “It’s you I crave” 

This post is a part of the "Shave or Crave" movement in association with www.blogadda.com, "The biggest community of Indian bloggers"
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 title="Shave or Crave" target="_blank">'Shave or Crave'</a> movement in association with 
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