Saturday, 27 May 2017

Playing Guitar with my son and niece

If you think love is the only thing that can sweep you off your feet, well, you are wrong. The heavy rainfall this eve has just given it a tough competition. And it was beautiful. The weather still is in good mood. No wonder I have a cup of steaming coffee resting by my side. Jealous already? You can get one for yourself too. 

So here I am tonight to share a heart-warming video featuring me, my son and my lovely niece. At my native recently when i was singing a song one evening on my Guitar, my niece joined me. I encouraged her to sing with me. My son too got towed along. Never knew this light but beautiful synchronization would end up in a desire to create a video of me playing with them. So one night after making pizza in dinner for everyone, we settled down in my brother's room. Two things - I was damn tired and, 2. my bhabhi (brother's wife) too was exhausted after a whole day work. I requested and she allowed us to hijack her room for some time. I am so thankful to my brother and Bhabhi. Brother recorded the video. 

Anyway, when I was done making pizza and changed into night suit, I asked kids whether we could make the video right now. Mind you! It was probably 12 at night. But bursting with childhood spirit, they said Yes. I was surprised nonetheless happy. I just pulled my hair into a neat ponytail and went out of the room for some work only to return finding my naughty niece raiding my make up box. She was applying lipstick. My mouth fell open. She is so small yet she was doing make up. Grinning at her enthusiasm, I too joined her although I said in the middle - 

Don't you think it's too late for fashion?

to which the girl said - 

Bua! Time does not matter when it comes to fashion. 

I was awestruck and impressed at the same time. The  we hurriedly raided my brother's room like some crazy musicians were trapped in the bodies of normal human beings. After one trial, we finally got around to make a perfect video. 



I must admit. This was the first time I enjoyed so so much playing on my Guitar. You should have seen how excited my niece was! You can see happiness dripping off her face in the video. My son too sang very nice and we all three crazy kids managed to end the day on an amazing note. But before I end talking here, here are some behind the scene pictures because real fun lies in being natural. Courtesy once again goes to my little brother. 

Friday, 26 May 2017

Rising to the glory - a teacher's job

This afternoon, I was watching TV. The Millers was on. Usually I like The Middle or Friends but this one seems to be funny too. So I started watching The Millers. The episode going on had an ostentatious woman teacher speaking loudly on mic reading to parents what her students had written for her on Valentine's Day. And probably every student had written very nice and appreciative comments about her. The ex-teacher (a woman again) was also present. As the current teacher went on rambling about her reputation among rows of parents, the latter was fuming and thinking why none of her students wrote anything nice about her ever. Furious and angry, the latter left the hall in the middle but not before turning on the fire alarm to dismiss the silly celebration the current teacher was having at her own dispense. 

Fast forward, the ex-teacher's three children (they were all her children, I suppose) started digging the school compound in search of time capsules in which their mother's students (in her time) may have buried some good things about her. They were taking a risk doing it but since there is none like a mother's love, any and every danger is welcome. At the end they all were caught and punished. Then once again, the ex- and the current teacher had a face off. The current teacher could not stop herself from reading the comments the ex-teacher's students had written. It was awful to say the least! The ex-teacher went all sad and seeing her miserable condition, the current teacher again started blabbering something something. And as they say, do not scare someone at the extent of ending it (no one says it but I just stole this dialogue from Mary Kom starring Priyanka Chopra. It's a good dialogue, I believe), the ex-teacher rose from her misery elegantly and pulled the attention of the current one. All three children were witnessing this all. 

The ex-teacher showed her letters and said that 'it was not her job to be liked or disliked by her students. Her job was to educate her children in such disciplined manner that would last for a lifetime'. In her letters, students did not make a single grammatical mistake. They were all error-proof while in the current teacher's, they were full of errors, a vivid reflection of bad teaching. 

The error-free letters gave the real power to the ex-teacher and she blew the current teacher with her tiny little lecture. And she was right. A teacher's job is not to be liked or disliked but to educate her students in the right manner, in a disciplined way and to direct their lives in the right direction.

At the end, the current teacher stood just speechless and I could tell the celebration in her had died somewhere.

The transformation

Having legs stretched after seven hours straight feels so relaxing. It's as if life is thrusting itself back in my body once again. The feeling of being at home finally puts me at much ease. 

I was at my native for last few weeks. Needless to say it was once again a golden period being able to live and breathe and talk silly under the protective shade of my parents. staying off all the household responsibilities is always mesmerizing. Yes! Daughters tend to get selfishly lavishly lazy in terms of cooking and cleaning and managing groceries once they are with their parents. With them, life is innocent once again. There is hope etched all over. But I do care for them. I have my own way, own tricks and turns, own handbook to do it. All in all, getting to the place where your roots belong is binding. 

When I unlatched my house door, I was welcomed by an upturned but dead cockroach right on the floor of living room. I smiled. Not because that was the sight I wanted to be welcomed with but to be able to be at home once again. I entered with all our luggage and then started the inevitable. Opening bags, taking out necessary articles, cleaning tables and kitchen, thinking what to eat at two of night, doing best to handle kid with his crying and howling because he is missing his maternal grand parents, getting washing machine loaded with dirty laundry, brushing teeth and a few more things. I amaze at the transformation I slipped into in a second. I am no more a daughter here. I am a housewife now who has a few priorities to sort out before she gets to sleep. But I don't mind. This is life. This is home.

So finally I ended up having dinner made up of total junk food. Once in a while is allowed. Besides, Maggi can be eaten anytime. There is no such law declared for Maggi to be eaten at any specific time. Blessings to Nestle! I wanted to put my feet up on the couch and slurp the noodle and watch TV but kid was still not okay. He was still missing everyone. So I dropped the idea of TV and went to sit next to him with my plate of steaming Maggi. It took sometime but finally he was settled and now is sleeping. I, instead of getting the opportunity to stare at moving screen, settled down with my laptop.

Eyes are droopy now. But weather is nice and pleasant. I like it. Back at my native, it was extreme summer. But here in Bangalore is different. I remember myself looking out of the plane's window at Bangalore. House were lit here and there and in clusters. They looked to me as if they were symposiums of fire flies gathered to decided which place to light up tomorrow. It was a serene sight. I continued reading my book on Kindle and thanked my husband profusely for giving it to me last year. Books truly are your best buddies. I enjoy reading on my Kindle very much. It is so easy, so very much convenient! 

Before I end, let me be honest. I too miss my parents here. But can't go like an open book about my sentiments just as my son. I have to be in control and reality check. Yet I miss them. It's alone here without them.

Now good night!

Tuesday, 23 May 2017

Amor Fati

means the love of fate or love of one's fate. In other words - 

When you embrace your fate regardless of its nature.

When you are ready to accept the fate - good or bad, beautiful or ugly, awesome or terrifying - every emotion starts to ooze a specific meaning, a special way of alignment to the course of universe, and no matter what or how it looks, nothing seems bad enough to reject it. It brings peace, yes but moreover, it magnifies the ability to look forward after a terrible loss. Accepting fate can also be rewarding.

The term had caught my attention on FB a few days back via a video. Usually I am bad at watching videos (I don't click on videos unless there is a gun on my temple) but the term was strange enough to catch my eye. Honestly, I thought the website has misspelled it or something so I started watching and turned out, the spelling was perfect. Amor Fati indeed is a term, an inspiring one on that note.

When you stop complaining and whining over 'Why Me?', the mind pulls out peace from hidden corners of your being. Acceptance makes you calmer, gentler and provides stability in challenging times though I agree it is not as easy as it sounds especially when there is a personal loss or financial crisis involved. Accepting the fate is a Herculian task but can be done some times, if not always. It helps in making the situation less revolting, offers less twisting to the persistent agony and the pacing across the room narrows down to an extent. As I said, stability.

In other words, it can be carried around as  - Whatever happens, happens for good, Or, जो होता है , अच्छे के लिए होता है। 

We just need to find the needle of goodness in the big heap of haywire.

Sunday, 21 May 2017

Non-fiction to fiction

Every relationship is raw. No relationship can be strong enough to let it be, to let it grow on itself. We have to keep working on them until the last breath. So, every relationship is raw.

Repeating my own words here, uttered almost an hour ago. Life is a serious stuff, a melodrama...big one on that note. Many things in it keep it alive while just a few things can be enough to keep it on halt. And through both the things, we have to keep up with the speed of life; we have to stand on two little feet and keep going, keep sucking the essence of daily life in the hope of redemption, salvation or in simpler words, peace of mind. 

But I wish life could be a dream at our dispense. If the previous dream did not turn out good, well we could have another one, the favorable one tonight. Didn't want that heavy storm? Alright! We can have a pleasant refreshing rainfall instead. Didn't like those goons chasing? Okay! Let's run with unicorns and color changing butterflies. Was it a reflection of the horror movie you watched recently? Smile. We can have your favorite things donning tonight's dream. Wouldn't it be beautiful if life could be slides of a never-ending ppt where we could decide what would go next? 

The start of this post and the way it's going are growing different with each word. I am sliding from non-fiction to fiction. Dreaming something impossible. Dreaming...something that can keep us alive, that can make up for just the right amount of hope for a better tomorrow.

This one may not be a powerful post but it feels good, to write something here after so long. May be will write something else tomorrow. After all, the relationship between me and my writing is also raw. 

Monday, 15 May 2017

The elegant presence in my book club (The 500th post)

They say, where there is will, there is way. And I believe in them.

I am at my native (my home more than any house in this world) spending time with my parents, brother and other family members. Being away from Bangalore reserves few regrets for me. One of them is - my book club. I thought I'd miss it for an entire month until I went back but no. Since readers are everywhere, so do books and my book club. I started taking club sessions for my niece, nephew and kid.  These three nuisance somehow manage to help me invent my book club in a different but interesting format. We are just four but fun can be garnered with this small crowd as well. 

 Today was the second last session of this month. The most fun and biggest advantage running your book club at your native can be - that your parent/s can pop in anytime and be a part of it. So my mum dropped by unexpectedly this eve during the session and fortunately, we were having a relaxed session - Mind Spa on Monday. We read for thirty minutes followed by another thirty minutes of coloring pages. I was coloring with my nephew when my mother made an elegant entry. I asked her - When was the last time you did coloring? She said - Don't remember but it has been years! I invited her and she took my place. I was joyous seeing my mother being a part of my book club (which is an impossibility when I am in Bangalore).

She started coloring with my nephew and I could see she was enjoying herself with pencil shaped trimmed crayons and little coloring book. While my nephew went on coloring crooning an indecipherable song, mummy was too focused on the task at hand to look elsewhere.


My most fav picture of the recent