December 5, 2010

Around (&about) my life of 60 days

Firstly thanks to my friend, once-neighbour, now business-partner and alltime-anytime girlfriend Sumi for leading me back to my blog. One sleepless night got her back to blogging, and one tweet about that found my cursor clicking its way to my virtual mind. There is never a pattern to my blog (feel free to disagree): sometimes I treat my blog as a punching bag, at times an agony aunt, or just my online diary and at other times it's a dreamland--a space where I share my desires, aspirations, loves. Must confess that there have been times when I have forced a blog, written just to keep the promise of regular blogging.

Though i do give myself the concession of being a convenience blogger, someone who blogs at her own will, at her own pace and her own level of regularity, this time I am a little shocked with myself (actually disappointed) for taking such a long break. Simply because quite a bit happened during this 60-odd days.

For my own sake, am going to try to recollect and put down at least some of the interesting or important things that I went through in the past 2 months:

1. I found my time, talent and timepass: Can't quite elaborate on that one, except that I was back to work. It felt great, it made me feel 'worth it', had me excited every morning and exhausted by evening, saw new faces, had new conversations, read new things and felt fresh in the mind and heart.
2. Caught up with some very unexpected people on facebook, and it feels awesome. Sharing secrets of school days, laughing over the silly games and giggling about the crushes. Distance and two decades later, it all seems sweeter, funnier, crazier.
3. Gave up on my 'attempts to diet', instead decided to be happier with myself and occasional resort to healthy eating!
4. The turning point: my friend and boss puts me the proposal of joining the firm as partner. Share the responsibilities, the challenges, the madness, the success and the fun. A few days later I knew what I wanted, and today am partner to DropCap Media. It's not the position that thrills me, the fact that we are two like-minded people, believing in the power of words and the magic of technology and striving to give the best combination of this to people. This process excites me.
5. Completed five years of my marriage. Being someone who never had much belief or faith in the necessity of 'marriage', this sure is an achievement.
6. Found a new friend. Mmmm here am a little stuck. Not sure where and how to categorise this person. We rarely meet (almost never), we never call each other, our conversations are limited to messages (on FB or phone), we never discuss personal life but talk about everything else under the Sky--from a killer wine-cheese combo to the dirty games in the corporate world to new releases, music, travel to man/woman debates to love, commitment and animals...and a lot more. It's an interesting friendship, and the best thing it's a non-judgmental friendship (whatever you figure out from that).

7. Had a few bitter, nasty arguments with people who stand very close to my life. But am glad they happened 'coz it ripped off the mask and showed the real picture: what some people really are, how their mind really never manage to run of the narrow corridor it's stuck in (though they pretend otherwise), how some men mistake male to mean 'superior, the ultimate and the decider'. It's left me doubly strong-willed about my decisions, choices and inspires me to 'damn the senseless souls and move ahead'.
8. The flat-shopping we've been working on for almost three years now has finally come to an end. No we didn't find a flat that suited our desires and budget....So we just decided to stop the search. For one, our budget doesn't quite match up to the demands, and also we didn't quite spot any that made us want to own it right there.
9. My little boy is really now the little BIG boy. Yes, he's grown taller and is doing bigger tricks...but what amazes me most is his vocabulary. Not sure if am overreacting and being over-enthusiastic (it's my first time as mother so am entitled to a bit of hyperism) about his 'new words' and 'new skills'. He talks non-stop in a 'nothing-could-be-cuter' tone and rhythm. He takes a piece of my heart when he leaves to school every morning, blowing out kisses to me and screaming out a 'Amma, hab a good day' (translated: Have a good day).
10. I find myself crying lesser, laughing more these days. Before I give you the impression that my life was one big tragedy and I was living a torture, let me tell you it doesn't take much to make me cry. At the risk of losing a very dear friend who would be horrified at me for saying this, I can cry watching Kuch Kuch Hota Hain! Anything that isn't happy could have me in tears. And this has stopped now. Am glad about it. The laughter moments are thanks to my new office, colleagues and back home my little munchkin.

It wasn't a forced attempt to touch ten, but now that I've hit ten, let me stop at that. These are a few things that made my days special in the past two months. I have just noticed another half-baked blog in my draft, hope to finish that too soon.

PS: About the Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, a friend recently told me that her husband cries at some of the scenes, too.

September 19, 2010

B'coz mom says so...

Should I feel guilty about this long silence? My last post was more than a month ago. It's no sin, especially since I had vowed that I wouldn't be blogging just to keep up the 'a-post-a-day' promise. Will write only when I feel like it. Read a few interesting posts in the past few days, and maybe somewhere it inspired me to write. This may not exactly have a theme or a topic, just some thoughts.

Today, as a mother, I often surprise myself with my words and actions. Many things that I tell my little boy make me pause and think: "hey haven't I heard that somewhere before!". Soon, I realise that it's just what my mom had told me during my younger days. I swear it's not intentional, but some things are so etched in our minds that we end up repeating it, without quite realising it.I can clearly remember how terrified my mom was whenever she saw kids being fed while they're lying down. I sense the same fear in my mind when I see kids do it. Amma never fancied little boys wearing shirts or cute little girls paraded in salwar kurtis. She always found t-shirts cuter, and always liked girls to be dressed in tiny frocks and skirts. I feel just the same. I shrug at the many shirts gifted to my son: some (like a friend aptly described) are so stiff that it can stand on it own, some that come with pokey pokey glitters all over that will promptly cling on to your face or hands the minute you try it on. I have so many memories of my mother screaming and making a huge fuss when she saw me or any other kid play with tiny things (tiny here is defined as anything that could possible be downed their throats with a little effort from the kids). I always thought she was over-reacting and being overly fussy. She still freaks out when my little boy plays with broken pieces of toys, or paper or worse rubber bands or balloon bits. But I no longer frown at her, not after my son almost swallowed a magnet! (Let's not get into that....whew!).
It's not just kids' matters...their preferences in a lot of other things too have impacted me. My father disliked the colour 'yellow' (for reasons best known to him) and my mom had a strong dislike for navy blue.Until recently my wardrobe had no traces of yellow or navy blue. Must confess that yellow has now found place in my 'favourite colours' list: vibrant, bright, sunny, floral, many emotions and moods that I associate with yellow. Navy blue, though, hasn't yet charmed me.
Once I started cooking, I once againd found my decisions being influenced a lot by my mother's methods and habits. It may seem funny but I insist on using the Prestige pressure cooker. I have nothing against Hawkins or any other brand, but my mom's used Prestige for as long as I can remember and it in some way makes me more confident about my cooking! ( may see no logic in it). Of course, I have fallen for the tempting looks of the Futura brand and own one too...but in the past five years have never once used it. Am not sure it's something to be proud of, it's only my superstition that 'my cooking tastes best when done mom's way'.
The way I stir food, the way I make my dough, roll it, the way I clean or chop certain vegetables, the pattern I follow in adding ingredients...have all been influenced my mother's methods.
 Funny, but whenever I look at the number plate of a vehicle, I automatically find myself adding up the numbers. Blame it on my mom for I've seen her doing it for years! It could be an autorickshaw or a BMW; we sometimes play a game of it too. The way I (try to) sing certain songs have been influenced by mom. [While dad's humming has helped us learn how not to sing a song!]. My tastes in music, movies, flowers, fragrances...have a lot to do with my mother's interests. Beads, bangles, chains...she introduced me to the bright, funky world of jewellery.
What's best is that we both share almost similar taste in men! Most often we end up going 'wow' at the same person; just that my 'wow' has a more 'how-I wish-I-could-befriend-him' tone while amma's is strictly 'appreciating a thing of beauty' wow. I must add here that she turns to a typical over-concerned mom when her daughter grows too fond of the boy/man. She was far from approving of many of my choices!
There are many more things in my life--some serious, some funny, some strange--that turned out the way it did because somewhere my parents' choices/preferences have impacted me.

PS: And yes, she loved my tattoo!!!

August 5, 2010

My July Moments...

I am partial to some dates, some days and some months. Today I pick the month--July, August, November, December feature on my favourite months list. Why? I really can't explain. My birthday falls in JULY, I got married in NOVEMBER, my parents have their wedding anniversary in AUGUST..are these good enough reasons or do they make me a self-obsessed woman! AUGUST--I so like the sound of it, a feel or pride, a touch of sophistication, a royal ring to it. Now does that make me a pseudo-socialite who loves to flaunt, feature and bitch!
DECEMBER--Blame it on Jesus Christ, Santa Claus and the snow. Christmas, for me, is always what books have made it to be: snowing times, christmas trees dressed in bells and stars, Uncle Santa who comes with his goody bag, pretty cakes, delicious feast, carols and a lot of happiness and merry making. Confession: None of my Christmas memories are even remotely close to this fairy-tale white Christmas.
A lot of my favouritism, I think, can be blamed on my 'love for the rains'. July, August, November are all rainy days. Cloudy mornings, grey evenings that come alive with sparks of lightning and thuds of thunder. Not the best of things if you have a new born at home, who's out to win the 'Who pees the most' contest!?! Laundry is a horror during these times, shopping isn't exactly all-fun either, and the traffic barely moves...but everything else is oh-so-gorgeous. The plants look greener than ever, are topped with droplets of rainwater, the air smells fresher and happier, the roads look cleaner, the dogs, cats, birds all are at their laziest (the pigeons find shelter on our window sill, which my little one so loves, while the cats and dogs curl up in the car porch or under the sofas or some other cosy corner).

The rains have swept me away from the shores of my thoughts. This blog wasn’t meant to be about my picks from the 12. It has been a long break from blogging (excepting the one tiny make-my-presence-felt blog). This one was to be about the month of July, its happenings and what kept me too busy to blog. July--being the month that welcomed me into this world--definitely makes me Smile. Lately though, the smile has become a bit low-voltage coz it also meant that I was now entering the 30s-club. That year has passed and now am happily 31 and enjoying it.

Now when I try to recount the just-passed July, I am a little blank. I am certain there were a few exciting things.
Had a wedding (where people were more obsessed about my weight gain than the wedding itself)--Not Exciting.
Finally finished my driving classes--Exciting. But sold our car--Not Exciting.
Missed a family function--Not Exciting. Instead did a weekend Mumbai trip, a fun time with friends, lots of kids, cakes, booze and some airport drama--Very Very Exciting.
Birthday morning! Woke up to mom's birthday wish (love you, amma) followed by lovely lovely friends who called/messaged/Facebook-ed birthday wishes--Wonderfully Exciting. Partner forgot my birthday--Not Exciting. First birthday where I got no gifts or surprises--Awfully Non-Exciting (and am still crying over it).My loving dad took me out for dinner, the only special part of the day. Nothing too fancy but good food and a play area for the little one--Exciting End.

Cousins came over. Had a Tequila night--Very Exciting.
Dinner at neighbour's place. Awesome food, good drinks, delicious biriyani and some fun times--Enjoyably Exciting.

This is all I can recall for now. 31 days and according to my statistics more Exciting than Non-Exciting moments. Good!
Oh, No! How could I forget that special Saturday. TATTOO Saturday. Finally, after a wait for almost 10 years, I find the courage and opportunity to live my desire. Now I have a pretty black butterfly (with shades of red) sitting pretty on my left arm. I am kicked about it, my mom found it cool (though she wished it had more colours), dad smiled at it, partner acted like he didn't notice it, and my son loves it... he's just a little scared to touch it coz he thinks its gonna fly away like the many butterflies he's seen so far!
This has got to be the defining moment of July 2010. My Tattoo--my birthday gift to myself.

July 16, 2010

Too much of too many things

I am missing my blog. The times when something would go tring tring in my mind or there'd be something stupid nagging my mind or somebody pisses me off big time and leaves me fuming...., or just those moments when I find myself drawn towards my blog and before I know it, I am either penning down memories, or sharing fun moments, crying over a dear one or just letting out my steam. It's not that my life is calmer now and nothing is nagging my mind.
In fact there has been too much randomness, too much madness, too many temper tantrums, too many surprises (rude ones too) and a whole lot of S*#T. I'll be back once the madness settles down.

July 6, 2010

Miss you & Thank you time...

In the past couple of days I have opened the blog and stared at the 'New post' page many many times. Sometimes wondering if I should write, at times wondering what I should write, sometimes just happy that this marks by 100th post, sometimes just checking out the font/picture options here. This doesn't happen too often because I no longer blog as a compulsion. I remember the first couple of attempts at blogging when it was more a compulsion to make at least one entry a day, an effort at proving (to God knows whom) that I am a regular blogger. Well that was not to be and the excitement died down rather soon. This time, however, it was different. There was no forced effort. It just happened. Thoughts crept into my mind, frustrations were brewing in there, excitement was waiting to spill out, anger popped its head and at times laughter took charge. My mind and heart was busy cooking a cocktail of emotions and I just had to share it with someone. I love expressing my expressions.
Giving it a little deeper thought I realise, it's loneliness and silence that cemented the bonding with my blog. I can't remember a phase in my life when I've been surrounded by none else than myself. In the past one year I have been my biggest companion. I have had my biggest debates with myself, had the most bitter arguments with my mind, laughed loudest at myself, shared jokes with me, cried like a child with my heart, flirted with myself, shared my secret fantasies and attractions and so much. I am so full of ME.
Living in an apartment rarely allowed me to be myself. I was lucky to find some absolutely crazy, warm, fun-loving and lovable friends. We took community living to such heights.... Every home was just an extension of each other's houses. We'd walk in and walk out of bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchens of any house at any time. Our partners often found their bedroom taken over by the lady-next-door while his wife was busy cooking snacks for the kids-next-door. It was the maddest and best-est days for me. And then one by one, the friends moved on. They bought their own homes--pretty, cosy and beautifully done--and moved in to their own space. Of course I was thrilled for them, love their homes, but I miss them all. There is this feeling of sudden loneliness. My days now begin and end the same way, every day. Partner goes to office, little one either goes to school or plays around for a while, eats, sleeps...and am left with myself following the same routine.
I miss the laughter, the chatter, the loud laughs, the coffee/lime juice that aunty sweetly bought us while we chatted away sharing gossip, jokes, dirty talking. My little one too misses his first friends and his favourite aunts who pampered him, played with him, gifted him lovely things and took care of him whenever I needed help. I miss the yummy dishes that my next-door-aunt brought in almost regularly knowing my love for anything non-vegetarian.
People can leave such a lasting impression on you. I still visit them all whenever I can, speak to them often, but it's not the same as seeing them, spending the day with them and sharing the moments and laughter with them. It's this loneliness and this unwelcome silence that's brought me closer to my blog. Thanks for being there when I need a patient ear, a warm hug, a punching bag, a shoulder to cry on. Thanks to you my blog for taking my emotional outbursts, rude comments, bad temper, crazy fantasies, heart breaks, sob stories, giggles, loud laughters...thanks for tolerating me and allowing me to speak my heart, mind and soul through you.

I miss the maddening crowd. I miss the girly giggles. I am glad I have my 'cuppacoffee' to keep me going.

June 30, 2010

Barbies Vs Basketball

The Man Vs Woman debate on who is the superior gender has been on for years. We have now reached the 'They are equal' conclusion. Talk on empowering women, educating the girl child, fight against female foeticide, dowry deaths, honour killings, career women and a whole lot of things favouring women/girls are constantly being discussed and debated. I vote for it. I agree women rock! Women are awesome. They are wonderful at multitasking, balancing work-home, and they don't shy from speaking their mind, reacting, rebelling and choosing their path and walking it too.
I am not discussing serious issues of gender equality or women's reservation and its significance or any such thing. My reason for this blog is very simple. It's about babies. I don't think this needs a disclaimer suggesting these words are purely my personal opinion, because my blog is obviously my mind and my thoughts. I am mother to a little boy and I absolutely love him and adore him. In the past 21 months (since I first held the little one) I have so often been told my many--friends, family, acquaintances, near strangers--on how I should go for one more baby, and it comes with an add-on that says, "Don't worry, next time it will definitely be a girl." WHAAAT. When did I ever give them the impression that am brooding over having had a son.
Let me be honest here and admit that I did desire a girl, but like any anxious first-time mommy my secret prayers always wished for a healthy, happy baby. I am blessed with just that. Touch wood! I remember the moment when the doctor took the little life from within me and told me 'It's a boy'....I did feel a prick of disappointment. It lasted a few days (the time I took to turn mother in mind, sould and heart). And then the feeling vanished just the way it came: sudden and unexpected. Since then, not once have I been haunted by that worry. I love my boy and he brings the brightest smile on my face.
This is no boy child vs girl child debate. This is just my response to the many many concerned and loving people out there who keep comforting me saying it's never too can still try for a girl. When you've just had a baby [boy], why bless them saying: 'Congrats and hope you soon have a little girl too'. What's the fuss about.
Yes kidswear brands are partial to little girls--the super cute dresses they bring out for the little dolls. For boys, it's mostly the shorts and t-shirts, with some brands being nice enough to add a little twist to the designs. Yes, girls can be dressed, accessorised...the polka dots, the floral prints, cute bags, pretty hair bands, tiny colourful shoes, ear rings, bangles and what not! For boys, its often just a cap or belt.
Yes girls sound far cuter when they talk, they ask the cutest questions in their sweetest voices and have you cracking up in laughter, while the boys are busy kicking the football or riding their cycle or breaking things. Just one little observation [by me] goes in favour of the little boys--they seem less fussier/crankier than girls.

When it comes to hugs, kisses, loving and making you feel wanted....the boys are just as cute and just as innocent. They hug you for no reason, kiss you to soothe your anger and just makes you feel so special. To all you moms out there who feel you're family's incomplete without a little doll or who feel you've been denied the joy & love of a little girl or who feel boys means trouble and torture....this one's for you.
Playing football with my little macho is just as much fun as dressing up Barbie. Hearing him cheer for a goal or go clap clap for a sixer is just as exciting as watching a little girl do up her doll house. Watching my little boy dance and sing to his own steps and tunes is my ultimate entertainment, and I feel so special when he drags me to join in the dance. Kids are adorable, they are addictive, they are amazing: be it boy or girl. Love them and they'll love you just as much or even more.

This is my little brat....and I soooo love him. Muahhh my munchkin!

June 25, 2010

Girls, I miss you

This post is dedicated to two dear friends who shall be referred to as N and T in the blog. N is now in Bangalore married to her childhood sweetheart and mother to an adorable little girl. T is now in the US, married to a handsome man and mommy to two darling children--a boy and a little princess. Why pick them from among my huge friends group. Are they dearer to me than the many others, or have I known them longer than others, or have they been my shoulder-to-cry-on. It's nothing too emotional, actually. Some things, some pictures, some conversations, some reads take you back in time (Yes I haven't fully recovered from the Past-Forward syndrome) to old schools, old faces, old friends, old memories. Memories: some are faded and slightly forgotten, some others are fresh and forever.
N and T are part of my fresh & forever memories. Friends from school--we have been together a long long time-- we have shared some hilarious, heartening, heartbreaking and crazy times together. The group had more members, some with whom am still in touch, some others who have disappeared. We have done the crazy, the weird, the unthinkables...have been other's support, strength, agony aunt, punching bag...wept together over lost loves, laughed & celebrated birthdays, loves and many special moments.
Fifteen years later we still cherish the friendship, though we don't get time to catch up as often as we'd like to. I can't remember the last time three of us got together. I haven't even seen some of the kids. But we know we still care, we still enjoy the company, we still love to hear from each other, we long to see pictures of each other's family, our faces break into a smile when we find one another online, we would love to meet up and relive some of the mad fun of past years.
The birthday treats, the shopping sessions, the movie outings, the school days, the college times, the scooter rides, the stay-overs, the secret adventures, the secret crushes we shared...and so much more. Cheers to our friendship! I love the times and I soooo miss you girls.

PS: Dear N & T... you know who you are, right!

June 22, 2010

Q&A on the years gone by(e)....

Is thirty a good time for introspection? Not quite if you go by the new-age theory that 40 is the new 20. It's not yet mid-life or even  the rebellion teenage then. But the mind seems to differ and is seeking a few answers to some 'heavily loaded' questions. I have always amused at how our mind starts its day. At times it's so in peace with itself and just blends into our plans-for-the-day, at times it wakes up angry and fuming and sets the temper tone at its highest, at times it's infectiously funny and keeps us smiling and happy all day, then there are days when the mind's on a holiday--you hardly know it's there-- and you end up doing mindless stuff. Oh and then there are those days when the mind wakes up with 'loaded questions'. Today's one such morning where my mind's hit by the Past-Forward Syndrome: a look back at the past, the way it's turned out and a look ahead at the future and the way it should be shaped.
Taking the time machine-ride to revisit the past years, the mind has popped up this question: So what have I achieved in these years? The heart replies: Is life about achievements? Life is about living, learning, experiencing, enjoying. Mind ponders over it, not quite convinced and decides to still do a postmortem of the years lived. Where do I start? Taking stock of the good-bad, haves-have nots, yes-no, smiles-tears, faces-places, dreams-nightmares...not an easy task. It's just a quick flashback to find a few answers: What have I achieved? Have I lived life good enough? Do I want to live my future differently? 

What have I achieved?
If achieving something is the purpose of life, well, I am not fully empty. Achievements don't just mean certificates or trophies or awards. My first day at school, my first friend, learning to ride the cycle, my first painting (that had a blue sun and yellow sky), the day my first attempt at gardening bloomed into a pretty pink rose, my first omlette, my first lone bus trip, my first time on stage...and so many more 'first times' that I so cherish and pat myself about.

Have I lived life good enough?
Good enough is a tricky phrase. Maybe I want to ask myself if I have been more happy than sad about the way I have lived my life. There are things that I have done to make myself happy. There are things I have done to make others happy. When weigh the two I think I've been a little partial to others' happiness. I say this because my Things-To-Do-Before-I-Die List is still quite long with some longtime desires put 'On Hold' either because mom didn't approve of it or because a friend wanted it first or because a dear one doesn't seem too thrilled about it, and some because I have not managed to find the time, the money and the courage.
There are also the many things that I wished I had done differently.
No 1: Taking Commerce for my Bachelors. I am skipping the 'why I did it' story.
No 2: Not mastering the skill of driving through the traffic maze. I successfully got my license at the age of 20 but ten years later I have now once again joined a driving school to relearn the skill.
No 3: Not experimenting enough with my hair. I would like to think it's still not too late, but my hair says a different story. It's bored of sticking on to my scalp and plucks itself off and clings on to my hairbrush. Then it lives a free life, flying from one room to another and then to the waste-bin from where it travels to another new world.
No 4: Not sharing enough laughter with my mom. This is one thing am now trying to make up but once again stressed for time and laughter moments.
No 5: I claim to be in love with the waters, but the last time I took a swim was ten years ago. What's my reason for it, especially when I have a pool barely 5 minutes from my home! I hope to get back into the water, praying I find my breath and not go drowning down.
No 6: Falling prey to fashion trends and ending up looking like a clown. The pictures in my album could scare any sane being: the hair styles, the clothes, the make-up. Ugghhhh...Eeekkss... Am smarter now.
No 7: Stopping with three pricks on my ears. Did a fourth one but took it off after a few months. How I wish I had more. Now can't find the courage to go through the pain and trouble yet again.
No 8: Saying it as it is, is not something I often did. At times I was honest but on most others I failed to speak my heart. Lost friends, lost loves because of this.
No 9: My Music class. Never took it seriously and never understand the beauty of it while learning it, and today I regret it. How I wish I had continued it.
No 10: Allowing my grandmother to hug me more often and kiss me whenever she wanted to. I thought I was a big girl and too old for such sweet gestures of love. Today I hug her for no reason. Love you.

Do I want to live my future differently?
I don't try and learn lessons from each phase in life. I just let it pass and then maybe later cry over it or laugh about it. But yes, a small decision--where my mind and heart are in unison--is that I will try and love myself a little more. I will pamper myself a little more. I will listen to my heart more often. I will give myself some time to live its desires and dreams. It's never too late to start loving yourself. I will try and fulfill at least some things on the 'To-Do' list. I will love more, laugh more, live more.

June 17, 2010

Missed your bus...blame it on the Rudrakash

I should not have bought that diamond pendant. It's bringing me ill-luck.
This stone isn't working for me. Things have been going wrong ever since I started wearing this.
Please check with your astrologer before you buy precious stones, especially diamonds.

Have you been through this phase? Or have you heard people blame their ill health, accident, theft, failed exam, heartbreak, etc on the pretty shiny gem on their hand or neck or ears? Jewellery never brought sparkles in my eyes and so I've never found myself visiting jewellers frequently. The only jewellery shopping I did was during my wedding time, which again was considered a 'cheap buy' by many of my relatives. It didn't match up to their expectations in weight or cost. I can't say I barely where jewels, considering I have six pierces on my ear and one on my nose. Three tiny pairs of ear-rings and a dot-like nose-pin/ring are the only decorations on me.
Well, I am not here to praise my abilities at shunning the sparkles and the gems. I enjoy checking out new designs and trends in jewellery, and if I had a ever-brimming bank account I might have even picked up some pretty ones. This is about a 'Rudraksh'. The Hindu families, typically insist that women wear a chain always. A bare neck is considered inauspicious, especially for young/married women. Chains were never my favourite piece of jewellery (I prefer anklets). I was often caught bare-necked, and while my mother had grown wise and stopped arguing with me over it, other relatives weren't so understanding of my personal choice. To escape the constant and repeated arguments and debates, I got myself an almost thread-like chain which barely showed. Even that invited unhappy comments but I couldn't care less. Ok I am deviating from the topic yet again.
The matter here is that I have always wanted to wear a Rudraksha bead. I finally bought one (actually got my father to buy it for me) two months ago. The jewellery shop I went to showed me a small packet full of Rudraksha beads--all the same size, shape and weight. The salesman said they were all the same variety and size. Not knowing much about the origin, history and power of the Rudraksha, I picked one (which looked the neatest to my eyes), put it onto my chain and wore it with joy. A few days later, a curious friend asked me where I had got the bead from, which "mukhi" it was, did I feel ok wearing it..etc..etc. I answered the parts I knew and smirked at the others. I had more people quizzing me about this, with some asking me if I was wearing it for any particular reason. Of course yes, I like it and I find it kinda cool.
Now, two months later, I find myself repeating some of these questions. Is it really Ok to wear a Rudraksha without consulting an astrologer? Do women, other than the sanyasins, wear it? Do I need to check the 'mukhi' factor? Can it bring bad luck? It hasn't been a tragic summer (except for the soaring heat), and I haven't suffered any serious setbacks or worries. But suddenly I find myself staring at the Rudrakasha every time I have a bad day or I catch a cold or when I am unable to meet deadlines or when my son gets cranky or if he falls of his cycle or if someone calls me fat or when someone doesn't reply to my call/sms or even if my recipe doesn't turn out quite right. I give a long, hard stare at the Rudrakasha, chained around my neck, half expecting it to speak up and yell at me for freedom. Somehow I know that I will have it removed within a week. Superstition or Stupidity!

June 16, 2010

Show me your feet first...

I have often heard people say: 'To judge a man look at his feet'. I wasn't told what judgment to make based on the many types of feet I have come across in my life--the perfectly manicured, the never-washed, the soft & blushing pink, long (at times painted) toe nails that run over a layer of dirt, sand and anything they fancy, the wrinkled worn-out feet, the hairy, dark, rough look, and then feet which have a differently shaped nails on each toe (thanks to the 'peel off' routine practised).
How does the feet maketh a person theory work?
- Clean feet means a man with a clean-heart or clean habits.
- Long & dirty toe nails means he's too much of a workaholic to bother about his dirty toes.
- Perfectly manicured means he's the metro or whatever-sexual man who loves to pamper himself at parlours, stock up on cosmetics and who loves to put his best "foot" forward.
- Soft & blushing means he barely exerts his feet. He dresses them in Nike or Puma shoes, sits back and orders things/people around than actually get up, walk and do it.
- Wrinkled & Worn-out means he believes in 'barefoot' tradition. No fancy footwear for him please.
- The hairy, rough look is meant to scream Macho.
- The zig-zag designer toe-nails scream Stay Away From This Man. Peeling off (or in very bizarre cases biting off) toe-nails is a time-pass that soon turns addictive. Imagine picking on the dirty nails and then dipping those fingers into your snack bowl!

Is this what we are supposed to infer? Or is there a more logical reasoning to it? Feel free to enlighten me please.
There have been feet I've found attractive but it definitely hasn't been the reason I chose the men I have (had) in my life. Didn't know feet mattered so much. Do I have to get fussy about my son's feet to ensure he makes a good impression!

PS: While in school we were given this great piece of gyan that the size of a boy's/man's palm or feet is an indication of how big/small his proud possession is!

June 12, 2010

Dusty, dull...that's the way I like it. Ahaaa!

A faded brown, a dusty look, the smell of a forgotten existence in some corner of the shelf, a used-and-abandoned feeling...this is how I like my books. The spotless, shiny book covers, the white pages with bright black ink that almost throws the contents on to your face, the handle-with-care look, the fresh, unused feeling is not something I enjoy. Yes I am one of those people who like to buy books rather than borrow, read and return. My growing up years have, I confess, been spend in Lending Libraries where I did exactly this: borrow, read, return and pay for the pages. But I've always tried to keep a note of some of the books I have thoroughly enjoyed or books that have impacted me in some way or books where some chapters have remained deeply etched in my mind or some books that hold an emotional quotient (maybe I find the author charming or maybe I am in love with the title or simply because it's the favourite book of my first crush!). Later, when I could afford the money and the time, I have tried to find these and add them to my little collection of books.
There, inside the dusty shelves of my cupboard, they lay for months...sometimes years. Until a friend would ask to borrow it or I would suddenly rediscover my love for it and search it out from the many boxes/shelves. And then when I see its shiny clean surface replaced by a dusty coat and find the pages to have a new-found dullness, I fall in love with it all over again. There's something about the perfectly packed, new, glossy look of books that I don't quite enjoy. For me books have to have a secret life of their own, their own years of memories, their own many experiences...and with this they age into the dull, dusty look.
It may seem funny, but when I pick up books (I rarely buy books in 1s, it's always a set of 4 or 5 for me) and bring them home, I right away stack them into my shelf, amidst the many other reads that's ageing in there. As they go in, I pick up a couple of earlier buys that were stored to age gracefully and I spend the rest of my days reading through them. And then a month or more later, I pick up the other lot which has now enriched itself by sharing experiences and stories with its fellow bookers...and has attained the antique-look. The allergic in me does burst into continuous, almost-nonstop sneezing sessions when I retrieve these books from the dusty corners, but that's the way I like it. Ahaaaa!

June 4, 2010

I carry a slice of the place along...& leave a part of me behind...

Living in a city is one thing, being able to make it home is another. I love travel and would have liked to live each phase of my life in a different city: childhood in one, the school days in another, do college in a new place, move to another city for a job and then keep finding reasons to travel newer places. Every city would leave a slice of itself in me and I would leave a bit of me somewhere in each of the places. What I will carry along are the many friends I made in every city, the many memories the places have gifted me, the weather that's unique to each place and yes the fragrances. Every city has its own variety of smells, aromas that give it an identity--be it the steamy, milky aroma of the filter coffee in Chennai or the almost-nauseating smell of my office canteen in Bangalore or the more appetising aromas that tickle your nose if you walk down Brigade Road/MG Road, the smell of the sea while you walk down the road in Mumbai.
I would have wished to live my life as above, but it wasn't to be so. I have had my share of short stays in some of the cities. Be it a day, a month or a year, each place that I've lived in has become my home quite easily. There is a part of me that goes home-sick at the mention of each of these places, there is a part of me that longs to back. Weekends of plays & dramas, coffee outings with friends, staying with absolute strangers, my first hostel experience, standing out on the streets with 2 loaded suitcases and 2 dear friends with no clue where to go, heart breaks, night clubs, long drives, rain dance, carol singing, girls night clubs, long drives, rain dance, carol singing, girls night outs, loads of mischief (which can't be put down here), fights, break-ups, make-ups, my first ticketless train trip in an unreserved compartment half-sitting half-standing, a variety of flavours and tastes, many many Forever Friends and so much more. Each city has gifted me suitcases of memories that I open on a rainy day or a particularly happy/sad day, rummage through, smile or shed a tear over, dust them cleam and wrap them back be opened another day.
Revisiting a place I once frequented is always an emotional experience for me. A church, a coffee shop, a mall, a beach, a park or a friend's house...each weighs heavily on my mind. A lot would have changed, it may be bigger, better, prettier now, but you'll still long to see it the way you left it, to smell the flowers you saw bloom, to see the views that you left behind. What you see is a bigger renovated church with no traces of te candles you lit or the broken benches where you sat and prayed, you enter a bigger, swankier coffee shop with a new colour theme, the message board where you put up a smiley note for your friends is no longer there, the Mall no longer has the short cartoonist who would sketch your portrait for Rs 40, the tiny eat-out by the beach that served delicious burgers for just Rs 20 has been replaced by a post eatery, the Park now closes by 6 p.m. and you can no longer take a latenight walk with your loved one/friends, and your friend has moved into a bigger apartment, the bright, airy rooms are gone and yor favourite floor cushion has been replaced by large sofas. Change sweeps it all away, gives it a new, today look.
The few places that I've lived have made me what I AM. The many cities that I wish to make my home for at least a short period will add more to ME, will gift me many more flavours, aromas, memories and friends.

June 3, 2010

Cheers to you, my friend

You have met them, you have spoken to them, you have spend time with them...but you have never noticed them or never understood them. We have our family, our friends, our colleagues, our here & there group, our gym buddies, our neighbours, and then there are people who have been part of our lives at different times for different reasons. Maybe a friend's friend, a cousin's classmate, a colleague's cousin, a neighbour's niece/nephew or just someone you met at a party, a driving class, a day at the parlour, in a bank counter or just somewhere. A smile, a hello, a few courtesy talk and their forgotten.
On another day in another phase of your life, you come across the very same person, and you probably don't even recognise him/her. The embarrassment of a weak memory put behind, again a smile, a hello, a courtesy catch up on the years gone by, and before you realise you're chatting and chatting and chatting and enjoying it too. It's a situation I've been in more than once in my life. People I have met but not bothered to know, have in some later point made a re-entry into my life and found a special place. A wonderful friend, a mentor to tame my madness, a brother-figure and more. You've met him/her not more than twice, spoken to them maybe thrice in the past ten years, but suddenly in the past one hour you've chatted like age-old friends. How many of us have had such an experience? I have.
Each time I've been glad I went through it. Each time I have earned myself a good friend, interesting companion and a fun person who's added smiles and laughter in my life. Just found one such person yesterday. A casual hello, a little general chit chat and there we were joking, arguing, discussing and laughing loud. It was so easy to be myself without worrying what he/she might think. With some people you just know, they'll understand and respect you for what you are. We joked, spoke about the most random things, discussed our relationships, our family, even planned a secret mission. (Let the secret remain!).
You've been an absolute sweetheart S. And remember we have more tales to tell over that cup of coffee...

June 1, 2010

Live. Love. Let Go.

Laundry, cleaning up, cooking, paying bills, hunting for a new wasn't the easiest or laziest of days for me. Lying in bed finishing two books over cups of coffee, soulful music in the background, a feel-good mail from a crazy buddy, a de-stressing chat with a friend, the company of was one of the best days I had in the recent times. I can't remember the last time I managed to read through at least half of a book without a dozen interruptions: calls from the maid, demands from my little son, random people who think it's polite to ring the door bell at least thrice, answering phone calls and what not! The only thing missing today was the rains. While it stormed and rained (and even hailstorms happened) in neighbouring cities, Mr. Sun chose to be extra nice to us and beamed brighter and brighter all day.
No complaints though. I loved every bit of the day including the times I lay in bed, staring into the nothingness while my mind was busy re-running a conversation it hoped would happen. It hasn't yet but am not giving up hope just yet. The mind was on a time-machine ride, jumping from one 'phase in life' to another at the press of a button. Browsed through the many people I met, some who found a special place in my heart and life, some whom I wished to place in a cosy corner but were gone too soon, some I still hope to meet one day and offer a lovely corner of my mind, my life.
It's funny how sometimes we ride on a certain train of thought and soon we hear or read someone else say the same. So it happened with me today. During it's time machine trip, my mind was wondering and weighing the significance of 'The Forever Love'. Does it really exist? Can we find true love in one person forever. My life forces me to say No. I believe in love. I love the idea of being in love, of being loved. But finding one love and believing it to be the true forever love is a crazy idea. How does one know he/she is The One? I've heard people say: 'You just feel a bond'. Sure you do, but how do you know it's for life!
I have lived, loved and lost. Loved again and lost again. None of it has weakened my belief in love and my love for love. I still love, truly, madly, deeply...rejoice in it, revel in it. But is it forever, I don't know. I often love in part and pieces. I so easily fall in love with a voice, with an expression, a look, a gesture. It is easy to fall in love, to surrender to the moment and enjoy it while it lasts. Do not complicate it with the burden of a 'Forever Tag'. Do not spoil the beauty of the moment by forcing it into a lifetime locker. Enjoy the dimples, the smiles, the touch, the kiss and don't drag them along till your wrinkle-days. Live. Love. Let Go.

May 28, 2010

I am The CoffeeCup writing

More than two years later and after 89 posts, I decide to rechristen myself. I am The CoffeeCup henceforth. When I decided to start a blog, I was more excited about the 'finding an interesting blogname' part. Naming always fascinated it for my dogs, my articles, my scribbles, or my son. Never have I been satisfied with the outcomes, either. With the blog too, I went through a lot of options. I don't quite remember how I zeroed in on this one but one thing's for sure, every brainstorming session was accompanied with a mug of coffee. In the 90 posts (this one included, obviously) very few have been penned without sips of coffee.
Coffee was a rather late discovery in my life. I survived fine for 20 years without coffee (save an occassional cup or so at some insistent host's home). They were, I later realised, disastrous versions of this oh-so-addictive drink. It's Chennai that introduced me to coffee. The city of 'filter coffee' or 'filtarr kaaphi' as they say it! Tiny steel glasses filled with steaming frothy coffee was placed inside a small bowl and given. You could pour it out onto the bowl to cool it and sip from it (traditionally that's what is done). The flavour was like none I had known: rich, strong (almost bitter), intense and intoxicating. The first glass and I knew I was in love.
Since then not a day (in my one year in Chennai) went by without a sip of filter coffee. It remains my first love in coffee, but others followed soon. The Cappuchinos, Mochachinnos and Espressos followed. I enjoyed most of them, but didn't quite take to flavour of Espresso. Well, now I am a caffeine addict! And I so love it. I believe people who haven't tried good coffee are definitely missing something in life. (Am sure we all have our favourite must-try things). I don't down cups and cups of coffee every day, it's just that if offered I can never say No. A bad day, a feel-good day, a pleasant surprise, a rainy day, a grey sky, a phone call from a dear one, memories, chit-chat with mom, lazy days, stressed & strained days...anything is a reason for me to get my hot, strong mug.

Somehow the coffee craze stopped with the blog name. When it came to a sign-off name I don't think I even gave it a thought before typing in a shortened and mostly-used version of my name. It was a boring thing to do, I now realise. I like change and those who've been reading me for a while would know how many times I've changed my template. Now it's a rechristening of myself (at least on the blog). The CoffeeCup girl is here, and am liking it. Perfect for the cloudy, misty, lazy weather that I've been waking up to these days.

May 26, 2010

Grass only looks's just the weeds growing

Greener, brighter, on the other of the fence always looks happier and heartier. It's a feeling most of us get and we follow it up with 'Wish I was there' and let out a deep sigh! Being happy with ourselves, our lives and our surroundings is so easier-said-than-done material. We are constantly trying wear others' shoes and walk their path, that we bruise our legs. It's not just the big things that matter. Finding joy and contentment and taking pride in our little things is also not easy, at times.
The fat want to lose weight, the thin want to add a few kilos/ the long-haired wants a short crop while the short-haired wants lovely long locks/ you get that pretty pink dress and then you suddenly want the sunshine yellow skirt you saw 'that' girl wearing/ the dark-skinned try all tricks to go lighter while the fair-skinned soak in the sun to get a tan/ you order pasta and soon find yourself slurping over the dish on your neighbour's table/ you decide to study Maths 'coz it's what the intelligent do but soon realise Arts is what the smart do/ you so want to grow up and once you're there you so so wish you were still a it goes on. This is the story of my life...and the lives so many of us.
Maybe we should just break down the fence and build a tall wall so that we don't see the other side. Life would be so much more fulfilling and we'd find joy in all the small and big things.

May 24, 2010

A to Z days...

Mmmm...It's May, it's a Monday, it's a Monsoon-y day, a Memory haunts me, my Maid bugs me. It's a Monday that's a little Mad, a little Moody...and am hoping for some Magic. It's definitely an "M" Day. Have you ever attributed alphabets to days? It happens to me all the time. I have had my L-days, P-days, W-days, R-days, S-days. Can't remember others.

Often I wake up feeling L for Lazy and then I find my entire day revolving around the L-word. I have a Late start, then Lose something, suddenly get Lucky with things but soon dip into Lazy mode and then end up having a hearty Laugh. There are days when I wake up Sleepy, feel Sick, but a Sweet Someone drops by and am Suddenly Smiling and Singing. W-days are great fun coz they start on a Worried note but move on to make Wishes come true, while I enjoy some Wacky moments with my Weird Wild friends over Wine and Whatever!
The P-days swing between Past and Present, and have me swaying between the Painful, the Precious and the Passionate Periods of my life, the People I came across, the Poetry of life plays out in many forms.

May sound strange and stupid to some (that calls for an S-day!) but it does happen to me.

May 22, 2010

Amazing, amusing world of dreams

Dreams...always fascinated me.I never really knew how it felt to have a dream or never quite understood how one could have conversations, meet people and go through pain/joy while sleeping. I don't remember having a dream until very late in life (I was almost 20 when I had my first dreamy night). I was always amused when classmates and friends shared their dreams, spoke about the fun things they did in their dreams, the lovely people they met and some depressing dreams as well. I listened intently, and waited for my first dream.

When it happened, am not sure I even realised it. Did I wake up in the morning with that wide smile of having finally fulfilled my dream (pun intended)? Am not sure. I don't remember the dream either. That was only a beginning. Ever since, I have had many many dreamy nights. There have been times when I've woken up talking, or laughing aloud, and in one particularly disturbing instance woke up crying and shivering. Dreams often seem so real, like it's there and you're living in the moment. I have often jumped up wondering if I spoke too loud and if my secret would be out, or did I ruin the surprise by blurting it out aloud!

I haven't had the kind of dreams I've read in books or watched in films...where you come across a face you've seen in your dream, or lived a moment that had appeared in your dream. No such magical or mystical dreams...but yes there have been dreams I wished were true. I've met people I longed to meet, I've had conversations I've longed to have, visited places that I wished to. Wouldn't it be nice if there was a way to record our dreams.

Have you had any particularly interesting dream? I'd love to hear about it. Let's have some fun.

May 20, 2010

A few questions....

It seems to be hibernation time for all. Many of my blog friends are in hibernation, hardly making any notes in the past week or so. And so it has been with me too. It's been a while since my last post. My reasons: some work, a few days of travel, the exhaustion following it, long chats with old friends, heavy monsoon and a confused mind.

I am happy. I had long long conversations with my favourite friends. Different people, different lives, different countries, different backgrounds...but there was so much common in the conversations I had with each of them. It leaves me wondering, and thinking. A few random questions pop up in my mind. I am putting them down here. I'd be glad to know your take on each of them. Sounds weird? Well, I told you my blog was about the random nothings!

- What is unconditional love?
- A husband/wife or a companion or a dog. Who makes life fuller?
- Who do you live your life with: A person you would like to go to bed with or a person you'd like to wake up with?
- Be nice or be honest?
- Should the past be left behind, forever?
- Follow the heart or the head?

It would be great to hear what your mind has to say.

May 11, 2010

Small, Medium more. I am Standard Size!

Sorry madam, this is the largest size we have in women's wear. You could try out the men's section for bigger jeans. 
Ouch! That did it. I just wanted to kick him hard and run out of the shop and never look at myself in the mirror. Yes, I have piled on extra kilos (and have been carrying the baggage for a long time now), but am definitely not the Biggest Girl around. I've seen larger sized people in my neighbourhood and at almost every street. Why then am I faced with such depressingly devastating situations!

I am addicted to shopping and have loved the activity of walking into shops, checking out the many beautiful (sometimes hilarious or absolutely absurd) things on display and have never been completely successful in resisting my temptation to buy. I indulge and I love it. But since my maternity days, I have refused to indulge in my favourite passtime. Size does matter to me and moving from the S (small) section to M (medium) to now L (large) has not been the most pleasant of experiences. And definitely not one that I take pride in.

I have more or less survived on the same wardrobe for the past year or two, making an addition only when a special occassion came up and I was required to look a little more presentable than my everyday look: "over-sized kurti teamed with a pair of leggings, hair pulled up into a messy knot, a dash of kajal, and a pair of over-used flats". Not a very impressive sight, and definitely not ME at all. I love my clothes, the colours, the beads, the dangling ear-rings, bright shoes, lipsticks and the many mix-n-match experiments.

Bigger and rounder was not taken kindly by me. And now I see it's not taken too kindly by shopkeepers either. To tell me am bigger than the biggest size the brand brings could he be so rudely honest! Finally settled for a pair of drawstrings that didn't mention any sizes on it. It's a standard size madam, said the lady at the shop. I ain't bigger or rounder than standard size. I am glad to have finally made a buy, but it's been the most depressing, disappointing and disheartening shopping experience ever.

May 7, 2010

Grandparents...they amaze me

Patience was never my virtue.Surprisingly, when my son came into our lives, I discovered a sensitive, patient and tolerant side to myself, that I had never known before. Everyone from my mother to husband to people who knew the wild, impatient, up-in-flares-for-no-reason me were amazed at my new found calm. And secretly they were thankful for it too. My son wasn't the easiest of babies (not that I know too many. In fact he was the first baby I ever held). Nine months of peaceful life inside seemed to have bored him, for he came out bawling for activity.

He was up and active almost all through the day and night. As the months went by, he learned newer tricks, bettered his tantrums. Unfortunately for him, the magical calm that had taken over my mind disappeared almost instantly. He was now facing a rather intolerant mom who wouldn't take his doings with a smile. Well, I wasn't as bad as I portray myself. But definitely not as (at times almost irritatingly) tolerant as my parents are to their grandchild, who is my son. He often gets away with his mischief because am more amused watching my parents (especially my dad) at their calmest and most patient avatars.

How goes this sudden halo of calm, tolerance and patience shape up in people as soon as they graduate to grandparent status! Being the only child, there was a general misconception among many of my friends that I was a pampered child. Their definition of pampered child: I just had to think of something and my parents would get it for me. I could be at my disobedient worst and they wouldn't bat an eyelid or even let out a frown. I could spend, splurge on anything that caught my fancy and my father would only be proud of me. YEAH RIGHT!!!

I had to spend hours convincing my dad of the genuine necessity of a request I had put forward. I had to have my accounts perfect while handling money. If my tone or actions crossed the permissible decibel level and permitted heights of rebellion...God save me. Today, my son could get away with almost everything except murder. He could refuse food, scream aloud at being put to sleep, insist on playing with all the banned-things (read remote, phone, books), could bawl at dizzying tones for no rhyme or reason, could hit whom ever he picked on.....and my parents would have a very convincing reason for it all. My dad's favourite for anything from cold, fever to temper tantrums to plain mischief is: "It's all because of the climate. It's so hot these days. We ourselves can't take it. Then imagine these little children. They get irritated and restless." Now I know why my son threw my pen out of the window, why he pulled out the neatly-arranged shelf, why he punched my nose and why he broke his toy car...blame it all on the heat.

If, in the right of being mother, you dare to be hard on him (read refuse him to be as mischievous as he'd like to be) prepared for another long session on 'the art of parenting with patience'. Wonder why they never took these lessons while bringing up their daughter!

May 6, 2010

My family rocks!

I have often been asked: "Do you miss having a sibling?" The answer is YES by all means. I have always felt a sense of loneliness, missed having a brother/sister to fight with, share things with, have fun with...and whatever else comes with it. Many a times I've heard people say: "Oh he is so difficult and adamant. He doesn't adjust at all. It's because he's been the only child and had it his way always." OR "She doesn't mingle with anyone, always stays aloof and quiet. This is what happens if you grow up alone, with no brothers or sisters."

I believe that growing up as a single child pushes you to either of the two extremes: an absolute introvert or a total extrovert. Me falls in the latter, and no one would dispute sure! I can't remember when friends and friendships first entered my life, but they were here to stay. I enjoy being with people, love company and always had a huge bunch of friends. I remember my school days, if my parents or anyone said a word negative about my friends, I would be fuming with anger. I didn't know the depth or true essence of friendship then. For me fun meant friends, laughter meant time with friends and if I was down and low, I would again run to friends. Over the years I started respecting, admiring and appreciating my friends a lot more and shared a special bond with each of them. I still do.

In the midst of all this, I somehow ignored family. Family functions, family visits, time with relatives...none of this pleased me. I would turn grumpy at the very mention of it. Spending time with relatives at my ancestral home was never my idea of fun. My heart would still be with my friends, munching popcorn and clapping inside a theatre, or downing ice-creams or just roaming the streets.

Today, more than a decade later, I have begun to appreciate and admire my family too. Does it have to do with my 'motherhood' status. Well, I don't know. One thing I do know is that motherhood has definitely made me respect, admire, appreciate and adore my mother more than ever. The feeling's now spread to the rest of my family too: uncles, aunts, grandparents, cousins and the little ones. Why this sudden love for family! Well, we had a family get together at my mother's maternal home. Almost every member of the family made it to the two-day function. Their spirit and happiness was indeed contagious. I was definitely excited about it, but they were all ecstatic about it.

A few hours with them, and I realised how simple they all are. It's so easy to make them smile and brighten their day. Just walk up to them with a smile, give a warm hug, say hello...and see the sparkle in their teary eyes. They don't make such people any more: simple, straight forward, honest, innocent and full of love. From the youngest member to the oldest, each shared the same spirit, energy and joy in making the day special for all.

Memories of the days bygone, tales from the was a nostalgic trip. We payed respects to our dear departed ones and welcomed the new members. Every word spoken, every story told, every experience shared, every photo shown...had millions of memories attached to it, and stirred a thousand emotions in each of us. It was an emotional rollercoaster ride for all: smiling one moment, teary eyed the very next moment, suddenly bursting into loud laughters and again slipping into an emotional silence. The effort behind compiling the rare and precious moments from our lives and giving us a chance to once again wallow in those memories needs to be lauded.

The two days went by laughing, smiling, playing games, sharing memories, tears and joys...leaving us all with a heavy heart and happy mind. It was time to say g'bye and we left with a promise to come back here again, next year. I am looking forward to being with my family yet again...very soon...And I hope to make up for the years I missed, spread more smiles and love them more.

My family rocks!!!

May 4, 2010

A little smiley came knocking...

A little yellow smiley visited me this morning and has been by my side ever since. In the form of phone calls from a dear one, messages from crazy friends, chit-chat time with mommy, sharing love and laughter with my little one, a book, a haunting song, moving words, some harmless flirting, playing chef and enjoying my many moods, many forms, many names...the smiley gave me moments to laugh, rejoice and experience.
Whoever send her to you and thank you. Smiling at your self helps you smile at others too, being happy with yourself keeps people around you happy too.

It's been a pleasant smiley day made happier by people I love, care for, admire and love with a passion. All I miss is having a dog to cuddle, who'd welcome me with a wagging tail and running his dirty paws over me and rubbing his wet nose on my face. The one pleasure I miss. Bow..Wow!!!

April 28, 2010

For the kisses & you all

Logged in to write a thought that popped up after a chat with a good friend earlier in the day. But as is my ritual, I had to check out the other blogs I follow and enjoy reading, and I found a post that had me all emotional. The writer of the blog is not a friend/acquaintance but can't call her stranger (at least not anymore). I know her through her blog, which I find extremely enjoyable. A few comments on couple of her posts made sure we were no longer strangers. In fact we even referred to each other as soulmates, after some of our gourmet etiquettes were found to be embarassingly similar.
This is not about my new-found blog friend, but about a post written by her. An email from a friend from the past and a phone call to the same friend inspired her to pen the post. Once again I found so much of me in her words, in the post, in the emotions described. My best, strongest, craziest and most intimate friendships are from school and college. I still cherish them, hold them close my heart. I know that even if we haven't had time (or made the effort) to catch up on each other or haven't managed to make it for each other's special days or didn't call up the last time he/she was here in town...nothing will change. One phone call, one meeting is all it takes to bring back the same emotions, same joy, same fondness that we shared years ago.
We still find ourselves welcoming each other with a thumping back-slap or hi-fi or the 'beep' words and soon we are rattling off about the good times: the inter-house culturals, the Holi celebrations which had us suspended, the sip-ups and ice-sticks from the canteen, the combined study sessions, movie outings, birthday treats, affairs (some survived, some died a sad death while some celebrated the end), teachers, gossip, exercusions and so much more. School, college and its memories fill the conversations, leaving no space or time for anything else.
We have a hearty laugh at the many fights, arguments we had over things that now seem silly, rag each other about the stupidities we've done, regretted over fights that cost us our friendship, and then laughed and laughed over our old photographs--the dance costumes, the farewell parties, the fashion shows, the Onam/Christmas celebrations, Union elections...
I could pick one friend after another and go on about the wonderful moments we shared. The infamous gangs we had in school, college and even today in our lives. Somewhere along we became professionals and met more people, made new friends, lived great times, shared laughter, tears (and bottles of Bacardi Breezers and Vodkas). Sometimes we sense a feeling of oneness after barely a hello or sometimes even without it. In my last organisation, I had developed a feeling of familiarity and friendship with my neighbour-colleague even before I met her. She was on her maternity leave while I joined. From day one, I had people telling me how similar I was to Her: my loud laughter, one-track mind that often steered to the dirty track, my wild manners, don't care sense of dressing, and guess what we both are Leos, both our husbands are Scorpios. By the time she was back to work (almost 4 months after I joined) we were already buddies. From neighbours at office, we soon became neighbours outside office too. I believe it's just a feeling that hits off a relationship. I am happy about every one of them I have and I love each of them.
Cheers to the many people who've made my life special in their own ways with their kisses and kicks. Thanks to Anne, my blogger friend, for taking me down this trip.
Any interesting/funny/emotional friendship tales to share? 

P.S: I have not mentioned any names for there are too many people who have taken over my heart, mind and soul. Someday I'll do a series on each of you. For now...luvya, missya..muahhh.

Just so that I don't forget what I originally wanted to write on, am leaving a hint hint here 'Concern Vs Curiosity'.