Commitment to your child


Days spent vastly in anticipation, and a slight dread

Looking at the word ‘leisure’ longingly from a distance

Eating habits shift from binging to conscious nutritive intake

Running for the general knowledge book to brush up for later

Pleasantly surprised to find that you still love singing rhymes

The ‘right’ you ignored before becomes a norm to follow

Merging a play date with an afternoon with friends isn’t optional

Preferences change from me or us to him/her or them overnight

Enter into it with a blank slate, barrage of advice, but learn on the job

Falter, bear, devour and cherish, all with a glint of a smile.🙂

Parenting never came easy to anyone. Did it? 

Nothing artificial about it! 

On our trip to the supermarket yesterday I got a big loaf of cheese garlic bread. I had to use it up today itself for fear of it going bad and there was also some leftover food that needed to be done away with.

After some nerve-twisting in my brain I came up with a brilliant idea to kill two birds with one stone. Sometimes I feel like patting myself for my sheer originality. Nothing artificial about it. 😛

There wasn’t much glamour involved.I used up yesterday’s khichdi, added boiled potato, rajma, besan, some green chillies, salt and homemade garam masala to it and made small patties out of it. Shallow fried, so less oil.

Then I cut down the bread in a conveniently eatable size, sliced it half-way through the middle and layered it with butter, onions, tomatoes, patty, mayo, chilli sauce, tomato sauce, parsley and chilli flakes. This is how it looked!

Doesn’t this look like my rendition of Subway?😀

I wouldn’t risk calling this a challenge, but if we push ourselves and our creativity enough, what emerges out of the self brain-storming can be extremely gratifying. What say?🙂

Happy Streets

Waking up early on a Sunday morning and participating in such an interesting event is always fun!

Having taken part in its edition last year, I was looking forward to Happy Streets this year as well. Senior citizens, youngsters as well as children have something or the other here that caters to them. The energy is contagious!🙂

I will let the images do the talking for me. ☺

Zumba is always a big draw!

Diya making for Diwali

Along with this there was a Yoga Arena, meditation area and playing area for kids to do roller-blading and play badminton, football,etc. Rent free cycles were available for cycle enthusiasts. 

Apart from this there was the usual walking and jogging crowd. People who didn’t do the Zumba dance cheered on from the roadsides. The cool morning breeze and the fact that there’s a lake and garden adjoining was the cherry on the cake.😉

Me and my friend went a little overboard with our clicking, but can’t help it. 😛 Do participate if you can in such events. They allow you to relax and rejuvenate at once. 

A Punching Bag

Love, whether it is the kind between a husband and wife, boy and girl, parents and their children, friends, or neighbours, etc. can be one of the most liberating emotions in the universe. It has the power to enlighten the darkest of hearts with the flick of a tiny flame of affection and warm the coldest of hearts with the comforting feeling that they are being cared for.

Loving someone and being loved back by them, in same measure, is unarguably the most precious feelings of all. Who wouldn’t want to be the special someone to their special someone? Their eyes weaving millions of dreams, their loving heart, the soothing warmth of their arms, is all for you. Beautiful and surreal, isn’t it?

Is love all about walking on stars, promising to stick together till the end of the world, looking out for each other, dedicating yourself completely to the relationship or singing romantic songs for each other though? One thing we generally tend to overlook is the fact that when we expose our vulnerability to someone we’re as much prone to hurt as we are to love.


Knowing that you’re committed to them can easily turn people into the mean creatures they never were. If their success can be credited to you, so can their failure, if at all. Being integral to someone’s life also means carrying their baggage along with yours. You might do it willingly out of love, but it needs to be recognised and appreciated too, right?

I don’t think I’m selfish, but I feel I deserve respect for what I do for anyone. I don’t mind being someone’s punching bag, but certainly not the one that’s locked in a dark room and visited only to vent out. We all have good and bad days. Love can survive only when we call on each other during both.

I’m a romantic, although not the mushy red-roses-and-candle-light-dinner type. I guard the ones I love fiercely and would take anyone head-on for their sake. It isn’t wrong to expect a small fraction of it in return, is it? Sometimes I wonder if I’m being naïve and unpardonably touchy.

Care to share your thoughts on this?

Puzzle me

The biggest ever threat to my capability in studies and promising future came when as students we were introduced to the two most perilous-sounding and dread-inducing words; Algebra and Geometry. While the latter helped me sail through owing to my love for drawing and diagrams, the jokes around its last three letters weren’t enough to camouflage the undercurrent of acute phobia for the former.

I would’ve classified myself as a nerd had I not scored more than remarkably in languages like English, Marathi, Hindi and Sanskrit, was good in Biology, loved to explore Geography, or did well in all my aptitude tests. Some things just aren’t for us though, are they? Interestingly, I went ahead and did Mechanical Engineering and Finance Management later on, both of which have no way to bypass mathematics, in any case!

Having set a less-than-inspiring precedent, my heart swells with pride when I see A Jr doing extremely well in mathematics. Although I wouldn’t like to take credit for it, I guess it helps that I often give him practical ways to test his knowledge. Sending him to the grocer to fetch milk, bread or chocolates with a five hundred rupee note and insisting him do the math himself, or asking him random extempore questions and making him solve them prove to be useful tricks.

I love giving him puzzles to solve too and he loves solving them. Honestly, those ‘fill the missing sign’ puzzles were never my cup of tea and made me feel dizzy at their mere sight. I never even tried. This guy is made from a different mould though. Yesterday, just to get him warmed up I gave him few such puzzles and he solved them in a jiffy. Guess its time for me to hand him a real challenge (which won’t make me run for cover instead).

How can something like this not give you a headache?

#KarwaChauth as I know it

I wouldn’t go as far as dissecting the factual and practical implications of it, but the feeling behind it is personal and genuine. I’m an Indian woman, and like many other things I’ve grown watching in my family and neighbourhood, Karwa Chauth is a much loved and awaited festival for all married women.

My mother observed every ritual in intricate detail, much unlike me. While Karwa Chauth is popular, little do people know that every month has a Chauth out of which there are four important ones in a year. I don’t know about others, but in Marwari families all these four are observed similarly. A head bath and mehndi on the previous day is customary. Fasting, listening to katha, the moon puja and then finally breaking the fast are done on the Chauth day. It is the same each time.

Our custom is different from the ones depicted in movies. We don’t go thirsty and hungry the whole day. Fruits, milk and other fasting food is allowed, but without any salt. We also don’t see the moon or our husbands through a sieve. The one thing that’s the same though, is the revelry around it. Dressing up in finery, accessorising with beautiful jewellery and getting pampered by the elder women in the family is lovely!🙂

While A insists me to keep the menu simple and minimal, I always end up planning an elaborate meal and also end up eating more than usual. Cooking can be distracting and therapeutic, if you don’t know. True, it requires a lot of time and effort, but I feel I deserve that much. Don’t I? :-D 

I’ve never asked A to fast with me or for me, and he doesn’t. It is his choice and I don’t take it personally or as a question mark on his love for me. Although, on this day he never has dinner before me and makes sure he gives me the first bite to break the fast. I love the fact that I do it as a mark of my love and respect for him.

The Forbidden Fruit

Man has always been tempted by the forbidden fruit. We can conveniently blame Lucifer for enticing Eve with it back then, but the fact is that curiosity, hunger for thrill and adventure or the sweet craving of disobedience is what really makes the forbidden fruit all the more alluring.

Is our inclination towards artists across the border an example of it? Why are we so bent on making them act, croon, write or create music for us when we have an ocean of untapped talent and potential in our own country? 

If it is about variety then Pakistan isn’t our only neighbour. Why not give people from Bhutan, Bangladesh or Myanmar an opportunity too? They certainly have a lot to offer in terms of good-looking actors or soulful singers, I believe. North-east hasn’t been explored, ever.

Investing crores of rupees in them and then using it as an excuse to garner support from our own countrymen seems like a tardy business decision. They come to India for the dizzying popularity and unbelievable moolah involved. On home turf, they probably don’t amount to much.

Our movies have an appeal worldwide. Why don’t our filmmakers decide and use this medium to make an unambiguous point that our soldiers spend and sacrifice their lives making? We can’t offer them a red carpet welcome when they shoot, burn and bombard us covertly.


Sensitive people are often considered dramatic or attention-seekers. While it might ring true with some, I believe that there’s certain prejudice attached with this word. Being sensitive isn’t a bad thing. Period.

When someone feels deeply about something and sheds tears, then he/she is being a cry-baby. If something unfortunate has happened but he/she isn’t showing signs of depression or hysteria, then it is insensitive on their part.

How can anyone decide what is or isn’t the right way to feel or express? Just like everyone’s fingerprints are different, so are the wirings of their brain and heart. They do what they do because it seems right to them.

I’m emotional and overthink or overreact at times, but that is who I am. Unless someone can enter my mind and see what torment I go through for seemingly unimportant issues, I should be spared from any sermon.

For people who know me I’m a damaged incorrigible emotional wreak, but a dependable person nevertheless. Those who don’t know me, well, why bother about them? My life and my challenges are my concern and I’m capable of handling them well.

When you miss someone..

What do you mean when you say you miss someone? You miss their smile, their voice, their concern, their conversations or simply the security of having them around you? 

Is that all there is to a relation? Do we always need assurances in the form of continued physical presence, a warm hug or other discernible gestures of love? Is it enough?

Some bonds live and mature much beyond all this. They don’t need to stand the test of time or being, because they are omnipresent. They stay with you and give you strength to carry on with your life battles.

Like the one I have with my mother. I feel her around me when I’m feeling low and I know she wouldn’t want me to be like that. I know she’s looking down on me fondly and requesting God to be kind to me. Aren’t you?

Miss you, Mom. 😟