Keep it simple, sweet and short – has been my mantra almost universally with dressing up being the only exception. It’s simple, sweet and fairly long there. Not because of any prejudice towards short dresses but simply because my petite frame decides to present it’s worst best in those smallies. An accidental journey into one of those smallies left me with enough spice to last a lifetime. If sheer accident got me into it, gross luck finally got me out of it.

Walking into one of my favourite stores, I happened to lay my eyes on a nice long black skirt. Instantly, I picked it up succumbing one more time to my overconfidence about taking quick decisions. A cute and ever so eager staff in that section glanced at the apparel and suggestively suggested that they have larger sizes as well. But that was not to shake my unwavering optimism with smaller sizes fitting me a wee bit. With a condescending look, I bypassed her and the suggestion as I marched towards the trial room. I shouldn’t have missed that naughty glint in her eyes and her desperation to exchange glances with her co-workers.

Inside the trial room, in a flash of a second I slid it down my neck. As I pushed it, some loose strings that I had missed got entangled in my fingers and there dawned the enlightenment that what was perceived as a long skirt was indeed a short dress with those infamous / famous spaghetti strings. What I visualized to be starting from waist was indeed to start from below the shoulder. Before I could think any further, I realized that I was almost choking and stuck in that blessed dress. Then began the ordeal to get out of it. Some deep breathing yoga tips to keep my calm, holding my breath to take my stomach in – hoping to ease out of the dress to toe touches – almost tried every and anything I could within the constraints of that 3 by 5 ft room.

Sensing something amiss about my longer than usual stay inside and the commotion, I heard a helpful voice ‘Any other size I can help you with Madam’…Managed just to blurt out a feeble – no thanks. After a grueling workout of 25 mins finally at some point, things eased out or perhaps the dress too wanted to get rid of me and I managed to land out of it panting for breadth, with a sprained neck muscle and hair at its unruliest best. As I emerged out of the trial room, I was just waiting to be greeted by that same ‘eager to help and suggest’ help who was just waiting for her winning moment.

My 25 minute ordeal gave me enough chills and to her enough material to laugh her lungs out with her friends that evening.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just a step out of my den and I would switch off my mains, be tempted to break into a jig, raise my arms and soar up an up like a bird who attains bliss beyond a height. And then that trance that took me through catching up with friends, gossiping with cousins and giving mom those pitch dark circles under the eyes by coaxing her to sit with me and faff and babble endlessly about every damn thing and person. Getting up only when the sun would put me to shame and feign on hubby’s call ‘Oh I was missing you so much!!!’ and giggle like a school girl on hanging up.

Was it all from some other lifetime?? For the excitement still remains, but as I step out of my den, there is lots nibbling me inside and lots more nudging me as if pulling me back into the house. The calls to cousins and pals make way for calls to milkman and handing over rituals to the maids. The urge to call up and ask the maid whether the plants are watered well and curtains drawn nicely is just too hard to resist.

I carry a lump as I step out every six months. I glance longingly and quite so foolishly at the walls. The house might not be perfectly done up as on other days but the last day I am doing it up as if trying to bond with the baby more out of sheer guilt for leaving it back for some time. In the last minute handing over, I often miss that questioning look on my, otherwise quite matter of fact hubby’s face as if saying ‘Am I somewhere in the queue??' As soon as I’m done with the journey I do make a call to make up and say ‘I’m already missing you’ but fall prey to ending it with hope you switched off the geyser!’

As much as you want to run away as much as you love to hate them, you eventually fall head over heels in love with those very strings. They tug me on, they nudge me. At times they might even smother me but the fact is that I’ve somewhere got addicted to their embrace. I might say at times that I want to break free but inside I know I yearn for them to snuggle me. Such are these frills!!!

 

 

<script type="text/javascript">

 

  var _gaq = _gaq || [];

  _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-27694526-1']);

  _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']);

 

  (function() {

    var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true;

    ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js';

    var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s);

  })();

 

</script>

 

A glance back and 2011 seemed to have dished out a lavish spread;

Celebrations that left us enthralled,

Little setbacks taught us to move on.

That good news that made us gleefully smile at life,

Sadly some that shook that faith for a while.

Waiting eagerly to welcome a new life,

Helpless at another one just sink by.

Few bridges crossed,

A few fences built.

Handful of opportunities lost,

A few blissfully grabbed and savored.

 Wonderful relations relished,

Some endured.

Some chose to walk with us,

A few others walked all over us.

Some walked past and lost touch,

While others left imprints that still warm the heart.

Few cozy conversations went on and on….others just didn’t pull beyond.

A rush of naughty glances, warming ups, some cold shrugs, heated discussions and warm hugs.

 Almighty bless us with the courage to sail through storms,

Shower upon us sanity to be humbled by windfalls and not get swept off.

A heartfelt gratitude for the year gone by!

Let’s look forward to savor and welcome what 2012 unfolds !

 

Yesterday's happened to be the last one! Looking back every shot had its own share of drama -some low pitched and while others over-the-top. With the exception of the first one, on all others my boy ensured that he remained the protagonist and none of us hogged the limelight.

Clearly remember the first one. With the new mommy still confined, it was papa and nani who took him. Whilst the two day old baby just gave out a timid squeak, the new papa's pulse rate showed quite a few fluctuations as that prick happened.

The next few were while he was still in the lap. This time it was always Mommy not wanting to look at the needle going in. For the baby, of course, the aftermath was bad. A swollen bum, waves of pain and a forced smile. Luckily till that time, he was quite a patient baby.

Then came an era when those chubby legs got wings and vaccination time meant that the doc and we had to endure a couple of solid kicks and that high pitch wailing for a good time after that prick too. Probably the funda was 'Let me not make it too simple for them !'

Then came the 4-6 years phase. By now the legs had enough strength and the vocal chords raring to explode. From a naive and innocent baby, he was learning the ways of the world and had mastered a few tricks of the ‘bargaining trade’ by now. For us it was-- anything for that seamless shot ! With some fancy toy in hand and promises to behave and not shout beyond permissible limits, we would together land at the clinic. But alas -promises are meant to be broken! Along with the toy all promises would be flung in the air as soon as we moved towards that blessed bed. And there we had-enough drama to entertain for the patients waiting outside. Out emerged mama avoiding eye contact with people smiling, carrying a sobbing baby who did not forget to pick the toy notwithstanding the pain and peripheral drama.

The 10th one was certainly different as it came after a very long gap. This time instead of bargaining it was 'I'll get it done when it suits my schedule?' For a good two and a half months the schedule remained jam-packed with--exams, feeling sick, cricket match and on and on and on ! Finally yesterday, he had no choice. I picked him up straight from the ground to take him to the friendly neighbourhood doc, just a walk away. Here he was proudly telling his friends 'Oh! I'll just be back after the injection' like a macho man. The fear factor was there but I know how to hide it now. Luckily for me, one of his good friends tagged along. On the way, he kept asking me in whispers what to do if it hurts. I told him just to close his eyes and say Ek Omkar (means God is one, as in Gurbaani,).

At the clinic, as the assistant got the bum ready, mama forgot that she had brought along a baby who appeared all grown up but still needed that hold. All busy chatting with my doctor friend, I heard him just before that prick ‘mama, you need to hold my hand’. It was a matter of a second after that. And there he ran off with his friend leaving me chatting with the doc.

From zero to ten years, seems we both have grown together on this odyssey !

 

 

 

 

As I see Hamraaz excited for yet another transition- graduating from pencils to using fountain pens- I wonder why the memory of a shiny silver pen has been poking me so vehemently since the last few days and making me smile inside.

One of those childhood memories, when my father handed over his much used chinese pen and I had felt as if he had bequeathed me a fortune !! Along with this are memories of many small things and the emotions accompanied . A small Texla T.V.- the first T.V. set of our house for which me and my brother waited for months, my first pocket calculator that a dear uncle (now my father-in-law) gifted me on one of his visits when I was around 10 or 11years old,a Vespa scooter that carried four of us- Papa,Mama,my brother and me (perched on a steel carrier seat) to our ancestral house every weekend.That almost 20 km ride in glaring sun was such fun that I remember lapping up many story books on that steel seat and my brother playing his simple water game tucked between Mummy and Papa. And I can keep going on and on.......!!!

Wonder whether our children flooded all the time with new age gizmos and gadgets will have any memories of things they longed for and then finally got !! Without advocating deprivation , I feel we were luckier than our kids in this regard. Its not the material comforts but the emotions attached with every event and acquisition that etches them in our memory forever .My warmest memories are of the innumerable journeys by non A.C. buses ad trains to meet loved ones and cousins during holidays .Guess, we sacrifice and overlook many emotions in our quest for material comforts.

We shall leave our kids much richer emotionally if we bequeath them with a fortune of warm and rich memories of even small things .

Its not that easy to be put in practice today...I know !!

Always hear...We shall be happy, if people around us are happy!! So spread happiness and we'll get the same back !!  That's undoubtedly true!! But then what do we do when there comes a flashpoint where a vacuum starts nagging.....Everything is fine and yet everything is not so fine!! Have always believed happiness is to be found inside....SAB KICH GHAR MEIN...BAAHAR NAHIN (Gurbani).

 Off late, a journey inside, made me reflect on a new perspective totally. A discovery that made me feel guilty for a while so I kept pinning it down. Yet it kept raising its ugly head...hence I thought I hear the devil out. And the devil tells me ... The answer to "Everything is so perfect, yet everything is not so perfect'' is inside you!! Anchor , soul mate, friend,  agony aunt ,career person, parent....U choose your role but forget that you need to be fulfilled to the brim to perform them well !! Is your own self being nurtured fully? So when your own soul is under nourished, what are you going to radiate to others around you?"

No amount of meditation, no astrologers, no gurus will help us decipher the truth. The turmoil inside me made me turn to 'Gurbani' to seek answers. Always felt guilty for having turned to 'HIM' in troubled times and giving lame excuses to myself during good times..But 'HE' holds our hand and shows the way whenever we reach out...Is always just a call away...provided we call.

As I sat back and reflected on what all used to give me inner happiness, I realized my own misdoings which were a result of some self created paradigms..My passions were no sins as I started feeling them to be. They were simple pleasures...Writing a piece of poetry as a teenager to writing my son's diary- right from the day I held him in my arms the  first time or the day I slapped him for the first time......Painting  endlessly for hours through the night on canvas or fabric ....every figure or flower giving me pleasure that myself only could experience.....Reading to the extent that it was an addiction...working tirelessly with a mission on a job that enriched me for a lifetime and enhanced my self-esteem.

So where came the turning point where 'I somehow lost the focus , gave up the small pleasures and decided to be over focused on the some of the bigger pleasures. I need to be happy within to be able to keep others around me happy....How can I be a good anchor , if my own threads are lost.....How can I be a good soul mate if my own soul is seeking answers ?

So- be it a man or a woman- looking inside and making your 'SELF' happy is no sin.Love yourself as much as you love those around you......Do not let the guilt take away the passions inside you.

 Go- indulge yourself!   Do not over think !!   Do not allow your own benchmarks spoil the small pleasures of life... For -  We Have One LIFE To LIVE........and to GIVE!!                     

                                                                                          

 

 

 

 

 The colours on my canvas....are not my own, 

 The colours on my canvas come from varied zones!!  

A part of the canvas has all soft and pastel hues,

 They come from a fairy queen God mother,

 Such a compassionate soul!! 

Thou was there to hold me when I went through my baby steps,

With that boundless love ...you showered on me,

Am for life overwhelmed and .........drenched!!

Yet again U were there by me in my later lissome steps,

You would never utter a word,

Yet your warm gaze would tell me that those were 'the' steps...

You bestowed me with some precious gems,

And from them I 'draw' each day and still my kitty is ever intact...

"Your loneliness would never leave you amidst all the noisy crowds,

If your’ inner self' was not satiated and ever so beautifully 'right" ...

Even though miles separate us.....your gems are always by my side!!

Read the rest of this post »

The first glance I had of him , the first touch , his first smile , his first words , his first tantrum and also the first slap he got from me......and on and on and on. The first emotions were all so precious that I always feared losing them to my memory . Penning them down was one way just to keep them within my reach forever . My vision could reach only this far that some years down the line when he would outgrow my arms , hugs and caresses , I would reach out for these pale pages for that warmth.

Life springs up surprises and this has been one of those pleasant ones !!!! To one of those curious queries as to what were the first words he uttered , my casual mention of that diary to look up for some more moments made his eyes lighten up. And then began the pestering to let him have a peep into it.

Had never foreseen that a day before his tenth birthday I would see him hold that diary ,watch him read every word, see him get overwhelmed with emotions and smile with disbelief at some of the excerpts. And here I was all engulfed with emotions with that lump in the throat seeing and experiencing what wonders time does to small things and YES....HOW TIME FLIES !!!!!!!

Happy 10TH Birthday Hamraaz !!!!