Package Delivered

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Package Delivered

Package Delivered

Busy with daily blogging and reading schedule, I was engrossed in an interesting article when the calling bell rang. Most irritated I was at that point. It is not often I get free time by myself to write or read in peace these days. No choice but to get up and open the door.

I let the bell ring once more before I looked into the peephole to check who it was that had the audacity to break my reverie. The look of the guy almost scared me. He was standing dangerously close to the door and I could see a good part of his neck and chin. When he moved back I noticed a parcel in his hand.

Curious as I was , especially since it was my birthday, I opened the door with a smile on my face. As soon as he saw me he gave a startled look. I couldn’t figure out what whether he had seen a ghost or whether I had forgotten to wear a top. I turned around to look at my image in the mirror at the hall entrance.

I giggled at the person’s plight. My hair was in a complete disarray, I had a face pack on my face and my glasses were almost falling off my nose. The height of stupidly is what I looked like. The thought that I hadn’t freshened up as yet as I was busy with replying to birthday wishes on my personal and my blogging Facebook accounts , hadn’t crossed my mind before I opened the door!

The situation was beyond repair anyway. So I went ahead and started the conversation.

Me : “Is that for me?”
He : Err… Are you —– ——- ?
Me : No! That is the third door on the right in this side.
He : Err.. Sorry for disturbing you. Thank you!
Me : It’s ok. ( I smile)

I couldn’t control my laughter till I closed the door and burst out laughing to the horror of the poor guy. This is going to be an interesting day for him for sure, I thought. I am sure this was the first door he has knocked on today.

Brushing aside the giggling and the embarrassment of both , looking like a ghost and not actually getting a birthday courier, I went about doing my jobs for the day. A few hours from then, the calling bell rings again. This time I made sure I looked my birthday best before opening the door. And it is a good thing I did. It was my forever complaining forever courier receiving neighbour. Yeah, the one that got a courier gift on MY BIRTHDAY.

She came in and we had a bit of chat. She wished me and went I to the kitchen to get tea and snacks for her. She excused herself during the time and said she will be back in a few minutes. I was back on my sofa with the tea set in front of me waiting for her to return. When she did, there was a box in her hand and a smirk on her face. The same box that was delivered to her in the morning!

I was surprised to see a parcel with my name on it when she opened the box. My husband had deliberately planned this. The initial disappointment and then the present happiness. The neighbour and the courier guy were in on this prank. Right then the husband walks in with a bouquet in his hands.

Tring… Tring… Tring.. Huh? What’s ringing now? I open my eyes to the sight of my phone ringing. It was my mom calling to wish me a “Happy Birthday”. Soon after that the alarm goes off too. I woke up to a cool yet bright Birthday morning from a wonderful , non happening but highly pleasing Birthday dream.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Write Over the Weekend theme for this week

This time your entry must contain, ‘I was surprised to see a parcel with my name on it.’

NaBloPoMo December 2013

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Love Decline

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Love Decline

Love Decline

It wasn’t long before her mother discovered that she was having an affair with someone. The mothers are always the first ones to know. Rashmy’s behaviour had begun to change drastically. Ever since she came back home from her in laws house, she had been under depression. The kind of depression that a broken marriage can bring about is pretty bad. But add to it the fact that it was a love marriage that broke apart, the depression takes in a completely new definition.

Hema was happy to notice the changes in her daughter. After all,she did deserve happiness. The marriage, that lasted for two years, had gifted her daughter with a year old son, a husband who wasn’t worthy of her in the first place and a set of parents in law straight from hell. The idea of staying with Rajesh’s parents was something that Hema was against from the first itself. But she couldn’t tell her daughter to break up the family. That would be considered as bad advice from a mother.

Hema had lost her husband to a car accident when Rashmy was 10 years old. Since then she had tried to be a father and a mother to Rashmy. Hema was always aware of the happenings in her daughter’s life. That is why, when Rashmy confessed of her love for Rajesh and her desire to marry him, she wasn’t surprised at all. It first struck her, when she noticed the smile on Rashmy’s face each time a message or call came to her mobile, that her daughter was in love.

Hema was fond of Rajesh. He was a soft spoken person and was well set in his job. Rashmy and Rajesh worked in the same building and they had met at one of the restaurants during lunch hour. The friendship developed mainly through phone calls and messages. During a Diwali pooja, Hema had asked her daughter to keep the phone aside for a while. It was the day that Rashmy had had a lucky escape, from what could have been a major accident, with just a few bruises. She had crossed the road with her eyes focused on the mobile.

When Hema heard the phone vibrating on the side table , she did not mention it to Rashmy who was engrossed in singing a Bhajan with her cousins and thanking God for her narrow escape. Hema was shaken too by this news and felt a sudden enmity towards her daughter’s phone. She let it ring in silence.

Out of curiousity, Hema checked the screen of the phone after a while. She was shocked to see 38 missed calls in 10 mins! She wondered what was going on. She hurriedly took the phone to her daughter to check if anything serious had come up at work. When Rashmy called back Rajesh with a smile on her face, Hema’s smile widened too. She was happy for her daughter.

Today, during the time that Rashmy was playing with her son after coming back from work, Hema noticed her daughter’s phone lying on the dining table. The phone had just stopped vibrating. On it was an array of Whatsapp and Facebook messages. Modern ways of love were strange, Hema thought.  More messages, more calls, more concern, but nothing guaranteed love in a relationship. ‘Likes’ and ‘Comments’ can be faked, but love cannot. At least , not for long. If only her daughter understood that life was not like Facebook. You cannot undo life’s mistakes after making them. They remain as scars forever.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

This time your entry must contain, “38 missed calls in 10 mins! He/She wondered what was going on.”

Picture Courtesy : Imgion

NaBloPoMo November 2013

You Only Live Once

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Write Tribe Prompt
Prompt # 3 : You Only Live Once

It is not that life had been unfair to her. She had everything that she could ever want. A loving husband, two beautiful daughters and a life that could be the envy of most of her friends and relatives. But even then, at times, Shilpa kept wondering about the “What ifs” in her life.

On this particular lazy Sunday, she was cruising through the facebook profiles of her friends from college. It was not a very busy week and she was more relaxed than she had been in a while. Looking at the profiles brought back a lot of pleasant memories. She smiled as she remembered those Birthday Celebrations, those beach and park outings, dinners and even the once in a while study dates. It was a fun life.

Shilpa was never the friend magnet. She was more or less of an introvert by the time she reached college. This was not the case a few years before that. A chatterbox, a vibrant and happy go lucky person she was, who was never afraid  of a dare. With age she learnt to let go of her childishness. But even then her carefree and kind nature always won her friends. Good friends, not the follower kind. And she to this day has maintained quite a few of those friendships, even across distances and time zones.

Today she looked at the pictures of her friends playing with their 4 and 5 year olds. She couldn’t help wonder why there are no photos of her doing the same. She had loads of pictures with her kids, that was not lacking. What was lacking was the sparkle in Shilpa’s eyes that was lost in the long years of parenting.

She took out her old albums from college and compared them to the ones with her kids when they were younger. While gaining weight, maturity and two kids, she had managed to lose the sparkle in her eye. That naughty want for an adventure. That inherent taste of the unknown. The surprises, the love, the dreams and the ambitions of a young 20 year old. She was almost 35 now and she wondered where time went.

Then it struck her! This was her problem! This comparison. Why compare two different phases in life to each other? Shilpa woke up from her reverie with a smile on her face. She realized that what stopped her from being herself was the fear of the future. Add to it the past that she didn’t willingly leave behind. Her life could have taken an entirely different turn, if she had made different choices. But then, she couldn’t change her past or her choices now. But she could learn to live the present better than any past she had or any future she ever hoped to have.

She needed to enjoy whatever she did. For that she had to do what she wants to do with her life, not live it as per somebody else’s wishes. After all you live only once.

This is written as part of the Write Tribe.

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Love is

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“I don’t believe in love anymore.” “Love is ….”

I have heard many people say this. It has made me wonder why!

Maybe they have been burnt in love once too often. Or maybe life just never gave them an opportunity to experience love.

What exactly is love? This question seems to haunt me at all times. No, I am not saying that I do not know what is love. I just want to know what exactly people who say the above statements, refer to love as.

Think about this for a while. A dozen red roses, a pack of chocolates, a piece of jewelry or a big huge red teddy bear. Which of these do you think will make you the happiest?

Even while in school, I have seen boys give chic looking girls boxes of ferrero rocher chocolates. I have seen some others receive bouquets and cards too. It always made me wonder, where do they hide these? Do they go home and proudly show it to their parents?

While in college, I had noticed much less of such extravagant gestures. I attribute it to the fact that while in hostel, most people are on tight budgets. And a few extremely good ones consider it a sin to waste parent’s money on gifts for a girl or a boy. In those days cards were the most common ways of expressing your feelings.

In this age of Facebook affairs and instant breakups, do young people still invest money on love? I wonder! With every passing Valentine’s Day, my belief in this kind of display of love is depreciating. Or , May be I am just getting old.

I see red everywhere these days. Flower shops, gift shops, supermarkets and even stationary shops. At every signal I see ads of jewelry shops with beautiful looking heart shaped pendants. Commercialism at its best.

I have nothing against buying and gifting your loved ones with some kind of token of love. There is nothing wrong with it, if it is coming out from your own pocket and not from your pocket money.

If this commercial display is what love is, then I don’t believe in love anymore either.

Do you?

P.S : People with own pockets please continue to purchase solitaires. They are indeed a woman’s best friend.  For the others, stick to cards or even eCards. Love is not supposed to be expensive at all. Just Saying…

Anthropomorphic Valentine, circa 1950–1960

Anthropomorphic Valentine, circa 1950–1960 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Happy Valentine’s Day. Stay Blessed….

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Happy New Year

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New Year Demands a New look! Don’t you think so?

As usual I have failed to keep a promise. Or let us call it a Resolution. I was to stay offline till April 2013. Didn’t happen! Surprise! Surprise!

Just like the year, I too have changed a bit. I am thinking (Yes, I do that sometimes) that it is for the better. And to tell you the truth when I left blogging since Dec 24th, I was totally blank in terms of topics to write. And all in all I had a very negative approach to everything.

In my life negativity and postivity phases have always alternated. Now I plan to be positive for a long long time this time. Only positive, happy posts and inspirations.

Just like the look of the blog, I intend to change its type of content too. Going to try and maintain a standard for my posts so that you all will come back to read me At your own free will, rather than through my updates ( read constant nudging) through FB and Twitter. Yes, I am turning a new leaf.

As I sat down beside my son (who is doing his prelims now) while he was preparing for his board exams in April, I realised what I have been missing all these years, staying away from his studies and school work. Even now I am just here to give him a moral support and am not actively involved in his studies. He just needed a bit of organising. I helped him with that.

While I sat there beside him playing games on my smartphone and tablet, a whole lot of blogging ideas popped into my head. The fool that I am , I forgot to note them down. But then I realised that all is not lost. I still have some ideas for writing in me. I am hoping I can bid farewell to blogger ‘s block for a long long long time now. 🙂

With the recent happenings around the world and especially in India, the mood and the spirit had died. But life has to go on. No matter what, no matter how. And these what and how are what my posts will now comprise of. I am promising a post every Monday morning, if God Permits. Yes, I am planning to organise my blogging schedule and my blog reading schedule too. I am working on something that will help me access all my fav blogs at one place. Once that is done, I shall be a regular on your blogs. This I promise. 🙂

Wish me luck, as I start fresh again. I mean, kind of.

Here’s wishing all my lovely friends  A Very Happy New Year.

I am sure this smile is here to stay. And I hope you are smiling too.:)

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Diwali 2012

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What is Diwali without Diyas? And what is the point in lighting diyas if we don’t take good pictures of the same. This Diwali 2012 , I have seen some amazing pictures of Diyas and Rangoli on Facebook and elsewhere. I prefer the ones on Facebook because those are the ones that people I knew at some point in my life made and about how they managed to celebrate Diwali this year.

Diwali, for us, has always been about cleaning the house, lighting lamps for three days and buying and making sweets. Diwali as celebrated by my friends from other parts of India are really more elaborate. Over the years I have learnt a lot from friends, TV and FB about Diwali , Danteras ,Laxmi Pujan and Rangoli. I have never tried to make a Rangoli before. In 2010, I had bought the colours to make the Rangoli, but my bad back had prevented me from trying to make it that year.

This Diwali 2012 too , I had purchased the colours along with colourful diyas. I was also looking at designs online to get inspiration. With my back acting up these days, on the day that Rangoli was planned, I almost gave up on the idea again. When my kids agreed to do the Rangoli instead and told that I only had to supervise them, I was more than happy.

As I kept the diyas and colours ready, something in me just got a kick start. The back pain was forgotten and I was down on my knees trying out a design I found though Google with my kids. Within minutes we realized that we are going about it the wrong way. We had to draw the outline first and then put in the colours. This is not the case when we make Pookalam (click to see our Onam Pookalam this year)  during Onam. We just start making designs on the go. But then flowers are much easier to handle than colours. And I think the colours I got were the Holi kind. It was very difficult to use them.

Finally we dropped the idea of a big Rangoli (colours wouldn’t be enough either) and decided to do individual small ones as we please. Since the hubby was out of town , you can see three Amateur Rangoli (if we can call them that at all) designs in the pictures below.

Diyas were lit for two days instead of the normal three days starting from Danteras. We had to spend the Diwali day in a hotel in Abu Dhabi (Click to read about it). And I didn’t think they would allow us to light Diyas in our room!

So Diwali 2012 was eventful this year and a very memorable one too. I hope all of you had a wonderful Diwali too and best wishes for a wonderful New Year.

Happy Diwali 2012….. And waiting for next year…. to make a better planned and elaborate Rangoli.

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