Tag Archives: smile

Of People and Things.

Naksh was singing at the top of his voice! “Papparah Papparah Papparah… Badtameez Dil Badtameez Dil… Ahh… Haan

“Oh shut that radio thing off and stop jumping on the bed,” Shailjaa scolded her eight year old son, Naksh!

No longer jumping, he smiled at her and stood there, the hand held radio his father bought as a gift, still blaring what people called music these days!

She was still angry at him but this child of hers could not be least bothered! He’d misplaced her earrings and she couldn’t find it anywhere. She was sure she’d given to him to go and keep it by the bedside table. She’d even boxed his ears two hours ago but he came back and sat beside her in no time! Now he was jumping on the bed unashamed.

“Get out,” she said, dropping the freshly ironed bed covers and pillow cases on the bed. “I have to change the bed sheet.”

“Mummy, I am sorry,” he said, and walked out of the room, forlorn and dejected, head hung.

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Shailjaa didn’t reply.

She pulled off the old covers angrily. Unfurling the new covers, she went to the headboard side and struggled to pick up the mattress alone to push the new covers beneath. Something fell from behind the mattress onto the floor beneath. She bent down and looked under the four poster bed. Two pieces of gold shone out to her. One within her reach, the other rolled off to the other end. She crawled under the bed and got her hands on both the pieces. She craned her neck upwards to look at the bed from under. A coffee flavored toffee was sticking out from behind the mattress, fighting gravity, pinched in place. She pulled it out too and crawled back out from under the bed. She sat on the floor, head resting on the bed, turning the earrings back and forth. They were the ones for which she’d boxed her son’s ears. She felt terrible, devastated almost. She now recalled picking it from the bedside table and having kept it on the bed. They must have gotten wedged between the mattress and the headboard during the course of the night. She lay her head on her knees and held herself close. She sat that way for more than a few minutes and swore to herself she’d put people over things here onwards.

Getting up from her place on the floor, she went out of the bedroom to look for her son. He was standing in the balcony, listening to the radio. She snuck up behind him and dangled the toffee in front of his eyes. He whirled around and smiled broadly. But then he saw her face and his smile dimmed a little. Her heart pricked.

“You want this?” she asked him.

He shook his head.

She felt sad.

But then he said, “I want the mango flavor.”

Her heart jumped with joy! “I’ll get you those later. Right now, will you please help me with covering the bed?” she asked.

He nodded her head vigorously. Then he raised a finger and asked, “Can I jump on the bed after that?”

“Yes, we both will,” she said, laughing.

Beaming with joy, he ran towards the room, and she noticed as she followed him, that his radio was lying in the balcony. She picked it up and placed it on the table – a lesson learnt.

Graciously Yours!

Lost and Found.

He was rummaging through old letters his deceased wife had written him during a long marriage and before. He also found his first and only Valentine Day card from thirty years ago.

Tears welled his eyes immediately when he read and re-read the sender’s name etched in crayons. He called her. This would be his first conversation with her in more than two years. “I want to take you out for dinner today. Will you be my valentine?”

She wasn’t sure if she should even receive the call but she did. “Me? But, Daadu. Also, today is the 21st of January,” said his recently divorced thirty eight year old grand daughter.

“I found the Valentine Day card you’d made for me years ago,” he said, not going into further details.

Eyes closed, she pursed her lips and barely managed to say, “I’ll pick you up at seven PM today,” before tears brimming with happiness rolled down her cheeks.

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Graciously Yours!

It’s Your B’day!

Finally coming around to a proper b’day dedication for you!

Dear D,

If friendships were made in heaven, ours would almost make it to that list. Well, almost ‘cuz you gotta work on being perfect from almost perfect. I crossed the perfection threshold long ago! 😉
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I still have to figure out why I disliked you in the beginning, so much so that I wouldn’t want to pay attention to you. But the tables turned soon. You should thank me for that! 😉 You get too much attention these days, too much for your own good! And I don’t mean just from me.

You’re a good friend to have, trustworthy to the core, too practical for even me to comprehend at times and entertaining like none other.

Here’s a small wish for you:

May you get bored less often,

May you start with Sherlock Season One!

May you keep winning cricket matches,

And less of those Tinder matches!

I hope to keep brewing trouble,

And see you rise from the rubble!

May your whites take you to success,

They make you look good, I confess!

May the love never diminish,

Before you get bored, I’d rather finish!

Happy birthday! To the guy who’s guided me when I couldn’t make decisions, who’s supported me when I needed a shoulder, who’s never asked for an iota in return, knows which promises to fulfil and which he can get way with breaking!

You’re not perfect, and well neither am I.

But we can keep giving it a try. 🙂

Graciously Yours!

P.S.: In the age of smartphones and 13 MP cameras, how do we  not have enough pictures?

Marmee!

She’s flawed. Yet she’s perfect.

She’s elegant. She’s hardworking. She’s barely tired. She’s always concerned.

She taught me to accept nothing lesser than what I deserve. She made me bold. She proved women are at par with men.

She put me to sleep on long days. She stroked my hair telling me how proud I made her. She let me make up my mind about what is right and what wrong.

She taught me life. She learnt from me too. She shared her mistakes, overlooked mine. She broke rules. Yet she respected them.

She let me fly free. She brought me back to the earth when I lost my way. She cried at my success. She held me through my failures.

She fought for me. She let me hold her when she was weak. She showed me her weakness. She became my strength.

She’s my ‘Marmee’. And I couldn’t have asked for any better!

Some days, I miss you here. Other days, I write about you! 😉 Love you, Mom!

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Graciously Yours!

Sea.

Guide to reading : Below are, not one but, three completely unrelated short stories all bound by the one word ~ “Sea”.

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He walked towards the seas. Stretched far across till where his eyes could see, only blues greeted him, shimmering in different shades from azure to teal to royal blue with hints of cyan and turquoise pitching in! This was the quieter part of the beach. Not many residents came here. And tourists? Barely. He dropped the bag and slowly moved to the edge of the rocks. As he looked down at the lapping waves twenty feet below, a rush of excitement passed through him. Goosebumps lined up his arms. He took in a lot of air, breathing deep. It would be a while before he did that again. “Whenever you’re ready,” he heard someone shout. He looked across to the adjacent cliff. Nodding, ever so slightly, he gave the clique of photographers a thumbs up and then spreading his arms like those of an eagle’s, he swooped down on the water, cold air rushing past him and all of reality a mere joke in that moment of truth!


“Mom, be careful. The baby might get hurt,” my daughter warned me, as soon as I set the toddler on the sand. I smiled at her, nostalgia hitting me in my guts! Twenty years ago, my little girl was perched in my lap eating her way through sand more than playing with it. She ran across the sands, collecting shells, screaming with delight at wriggling snails. Crabs scared her. Starfish made her curious. Corals were her collectibles. I still had some kept in one of my boxes. I scooped up the kid in my arms. “Are you stronger than your mother?” I asked him. But he was fiddling with a coral in his hand. He curiously stared at it and gurgled “Ma”, the best way he could, showing the coral to me and his mother turn by turn. “Oh well, let him out on the sand. He’ll be fine!” said my daughter, possibly reminiscing her own coral days! “But we’ll bathe him once after,” she said, as soon as I put the kid on the beach where I had raised my family and my husband’s mother had raised hers and so on. We were the sea and sand people. You couldn’t take the salts of the seas out of our blood.


He needed to talk to someone. His brain was a flurry of thoughts. Everything was going wrong. He was screwing up whatever was left in his life after having lost all that he once had. He got out of his car. He closed the door lightly. His girlfriend’s banging of the car door still reverberated in his ears. Walking along the beach, he saw a girl sitting alone. Hoping it would not be a mistake, he went up to her and asked politely, “Do you mind if I sit here?” She looked up at him. Her tear streaked cheeks glistened in the soft lights. “It’s a free country,” she said, resignedly. He sat down beside her. He cupped up the sand and watched it flow out of his hands, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I don’t want us to be running out of time,” he said out loud to his girlfriend. “And if you go away, this is all I’ll ever be,” showing her his now empty hands. “You cannot love me so much. You should not,” she said, putting her hand in his. “The sands of time will take care of us. Just let them,” he pleaded. She sighed, didn’t say anything, but let her hand stay right where it belonged.


Graciously Yours!

Picture Courtesy : Devesh Lunia.

Of music and runs!

So there’s a music run in my city today and I’m all geared up to go for it! Why, eh? Because I love music. And I try keeping fit, or at least that’s what I tell myself!

Considering I’ve not run more than once in the past month or not done more than 25 pushups in as many days, it’s easy to comprehend the disappointing state of affairs.

But who cares? I’ll still go for the music run. In fact, I’m going for it while typing this out.

Now just because I didn’t run in the run-up to the run (see what I did there!) does not mean I am not excited about it! I am.

I decided to go for a jog every day in the last week. Did I though? Well, mail me and I’ll let you know. I swear my reasons are genuine!

I ordered myself a new set of track pants for the event. They arrived today after I left for the run!

I also ordered a pair of new running shoes. The order got cancelled. How is that my fault? I reordered. They should be here next week!

The chocolates we were supposed to eat before and during the run have been gobbled up already! Well, Bangalore traffic gives me hunger pangs. And engulfs me with sleep. Hence, the blogging.

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Guess which is mine!

Wish me luck! Hoping my emergency contact won’t have to be invoked! D, you know what you gotta do if that happens!

Graciously Yours!

Isra, I wish someday I can run like you! Until then I’d appreciate help getting off the couch from any runners we have in the WP family. Or any closet runners too! Wait. Closet runners? Who might these be? Oh they’re runners who don’t ‘come out'(to run)! 😉

The Hope?

He sent his father away for breakfast. It was ticking 10 AM. She would be coming over  any time to the shop now. And there she was, clad in a sari, hiding all possible parts with the six yards of cloth. She had a beautiful body, one she should have been flaunting had it not been marred with red, blue, purple and brown. Her eyes showed what the clothes hid.

His eyes lit up and smile broadened whenever he saw her. And when she looked at him and smiled, his wings fluttered to fly! She handed him a list of groceries required. Their hands touched. Neither pulled away. They both knew they wanted it. It was her console and his concern.

 “How are you today?” he asked, while slowly picking out items from the shelves. There was no hurry. There never was.

“Same as yesterday. Same as every day. Existing.”

She was morose today. Anyone in her shoes would be.

“You’ll start living soon.”

“Will I now?”

“Yes,” he said with a conviction she admired in him. He was the reason she had more purple than red.

“He touches you again and it’ll be all over, okay?” he asked her, handing her the packet.

He took the money she gave him and put it aside in a drawer his father knew nothing about.

“I’ll give him a week at the most. He’s a rotten fellow.”

“A week it is then,” he said, looking at her. Her sad smile spiked a pain in his chest. He knew she wasn’t an infatuation. And he let her know. Every damn day.

“I love you,” he said, his parting words.

“I do, too,” she said softly, her day already feeling better and brighter.

He watched her walk away. She was married. She was elder to him. Theirs was a match the society would frown upon.

But he had taken to her like salt to sea. He was her only hope and she his beacon of light. Together they would alight the horizon.

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Graciously Yours!

The Pixel Way.

Four days ago, I was awkward, silent and judgmentally observant. Four days later, I am lively, chirpy and still observant but not judgmentally! Oh and 104% tired!

What happened in these four days, you ask? PIXELS ~ the photography club at the company I work in. They organised a three day trip to Kodaikanal, Madurai and Rameshwaram and those three days have by far been the best in the last couple of months! Except the family reunion, of course! Jeez Mom, don’t doubt my love for you fellas! 😉

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#EarlyRisingPerks! P.C. : Ajit Singh

Waking up to such scenes may be difficult but when you have friends to capture them for you, there’s nothing better! 😉 Kodaikanal at 13 degrees Celsius in the morning is the best way to wake up to! Until you realize that the geyser in the bathrooms doesn’t necessarily spout hot water.

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VIBGYOR and beyond! P.C.: Nishant Aggarwal
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Clicking the clickers. P.C.: Deepanshu Tiwari.

Sightseeing had never been this interesting! With so many cameras clicking around me, for once I didn’t have to bother about capturing places. I only had to live through moments in the best way possible.

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Making Memories ~ One Day At A Time!

Sometimes you meet the most unexpected people in the most unexpected places. Period.

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Wanna go for dinner, Darling!
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Note the logo. Says the Professional, captures the Amateur. (Hint – Baskin Robbins!)

The names of the restaurants, schools, colleges we came across were hilarious! Apart from these, a few that stood out were Booty’s. And the *drum roll begins* ‘American University of India’.

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Yeah, visiting date and time at the temple noted. #VandalismMuch

From temples to beaches, parks to caves, waterfalls to forests – we covered it all. And the one most obvious thing which I couldn’t manage to squeeze in? Shopping! Such a relief, I tell you 😉

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The Flowing Light. P.C. : Janakiraman G.

And that right there is how each of these talented photographers’ create magic! The Pamban bridge connecting Rameshwaram island to the Indian mainland is one of those marvelous pieces of architecture that we’re forgetting about.

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Nothing tires us ever. Except office!

Three days of fun has never been called long and short in the same sentence! Until now. To each of those who came together for this trip ~ thank you for making the heat, the hunger, the pain, the sleeplessness and the wait at the temples all bearable! 😉

Graciously Yours!

 

The Poetry of Life.

She awoke to the Tyndall effect the rays from the nearest star made in her small room. She could see the dust particles dancing around each other. She wondered how much of it was cosmic. She smiled.

On her way to work, she bought more than a couple of roses from the young boy at the crossing. The water drops shone like precious stones on the petals. She smiled.

She typed out the report she was to submit. As her fingers moved across the keyboard, the clicks rhythmically buzzed in her ears.  She thought of the electrons zigzagging through the silicon jungle within her laptop. She smiled.

She passed by a temple in the evening. She had never ventured into one. Yet, the smell of the incense sticks was her favourite. She smiled.

She popped corn kernels for a late night movie. The oil simmered and the kernels flowered with the pop, clonking against the lid. She smiled.

“She smiles easily,” they said.

Because. “Every atom has a poetry,” she thought.

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Graciously Yours!

Life Notes #10.

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Among the few worldly possessions I own, these are a few stones that I have. Actually they are more like pebbles from river beds. I’ll leave you guessing how I ever even laid my hands on them!

I took them out after a really long time today. A friend suggested an idea which I turned down initially but later seemed appealing to me in my boredom. The idea was primitive! Literally. Could we start a fire with these stones?

I tried it obviously. Under parental guidance! The only guidance my mother had was “Please keep the stones away from your face.”

I tried. I struck the pebbles hard and fast against each other. I was eagerly waiting for a spark to ignite! I’m sure if you looked into my eyes then, you could have seen the sparks of excitement! Well, turns out they were the only sparks.

You know how long I tried? I tried for almost four times the attention span of average humans. I tried for 30 whole seconds.

Well it’s not my fault that humans on an average have an attention span of eight seconds now. We’re down from twelve seconds in 2000. Even a goldfish has an attention span of nine seconds average, a full one second more than ours! Yes, that teeny weeny goldfish which has a teenier weenier brain weighing 0.097 grams (Average human brain weighs 1.5 kilogram).

Note to self : Primitive life wouldn’t suit me. I think that the primitive man/woman who first started the fire by striking the stones for, apparently, a very, very long time was more angry than bored! Boredom suits me. Anger doesn’t. I’m happier without pebble fire!

Graciously Yours!

P.S. : How long would it really have taken to ignite a spark though? Anyone knows? Or is it all up to Google again?