It was the last day in the city, the place where I grew up
and her 1st day at work. She came running down to bid her final lines of farewell. Instead of saying two affectionate words of love, I
immediately judged her in my head for the way she had dressed up…ugh….her usual, old, maroon
kurta and a black salwar with frizzy, unruly hair pulled to a pony tail. Couldn’t
she buy a set of new clothes to be worn on her first day to work? Even a little
makeup would have done better. I met her at the lobby and all that we exchanged
were a few parting formalities. I could clearly see the silenced pain in her
big, deep brown eyes.
Saturday 15 July 2017
Monday 10 July 2017
The Diary of a 4 year old
Dear Diary,
This happened, on a lousy afternoon, an old friend of
Mommy’s pings her up and says that she should re-start writing on her parenting
journey. Yes, it had a been a while she wrote for her dear parenting websites
(Apologies Sangeetha aunty…but my Mommy heavily misses her old days and I have
heard her talking about you so much) about the wacky, yet so memorable my baby
and toddler-hood phase. Now that I am 4 years old and slowly outgrowing her
lap, it has taken a backseat. Her life revolves around so much more than
before. Leave aside all the roller coasters and tora-toras, there are also merry-go
rounds to talk about.
What do hilarious discussions, irrational opinions,
invalid justifications, unannounced alarm, soiled clothes, unwanted delays have
in common?
Its us, KIDS!
Its us, KIDS!
Thursday 6 July 2017
The Chronicles of the Unspoken
Back in our school days when we were caught for those
incessant giggling under the desks on our lame jokes, we were not even given
the opportunity to speak up for the chuckles of laughter orchestrated alongside
the lesson. How thankful I am to God now, we were usually shown the door or the
teacher might have branded us insane and remembered us for our gross humour
sense. Agreed, it’s a circumstantial boon and may be even the teacher was least
interested in the blame game of who started what, first!!!
For many like me, there exists a deep, dark tunnel
between the mind and the heart. It is that unknown, mysterious subway where you
make your life’s toughest decisions. Several times, I have found that even
those choices don’t come out in words and in due course get influenced by many
whom you meet and connect.
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It was the last day in the city, the place where I grew up and her 1 st day at work. She came running down to bid her final lines of fa...