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Showing posts from 2015

Look, who's almost six?

This blog started off to serve (also) as a journal to chronicle my son's growing up years; to jot down my parenting moments. Sadly, over time, I let many moments slip by; by not immortalising those on paper. However, without lamenting more about the water that has flowed under the bridge, I'm going to condense in here all that I can gather and remember from the past many months.

R is growing up real fast. He'll turn 6 in about 10 days time. I can see a lot of changes, yet some things have remained the same. For instance, his obsession with the whales and dinosaurs continue and his passion for cars has moved up notches on the status quotient. Where at one point even the humble autos and buses or even for that matter the Marutis and Hyundais excited him, it's now all about Lamborghinis, Ferrari World and the likes! Added to the mad mix is the new found fascination for superheroes, transformers and sci-fi movies.

There was a time when he could not differentiate between p…

Trying to re-boot

This space is becoming a forgotten place. Like an old garden that is dying for want of a gardener and happy people loitering around. Every now and then I try to revive what was once my favourite hobby. Either, I'm running out of sufficient water to keep the space from drying or I've lost the interest. Both seem like a probable reason to me.

Today, after a long time, I opened my blogger dashboard; found some familiar blogs with fresh posts; ran down the nostalgic lane when one person's post for the day would provide fodder for someone else's post and we would happily greet one another, hopping in and out of each other's spaces.

Somewhere, I strayed away to explore newer zones and found myself misplaced amongst a crowd that is far more energetic and brimming with ideas.

I preferred the lazy times where a lot more personal snippets (giving a glimpse of each other's lives and personalities) were shared at a leisurely pace and we got ample time to socialize within …

The ugly truth behind my beautiful home

My recent post on FaceBook where I shared the news of my living room being featured in an article written by my interior designer had friends and relatives congratulating me and sharing my happiness. Of course, I was on top of the moon. However, I could not push away a sense of despair, a twinge of sadness, and a feeling of unrest that has clung to me ever since we moved into this house, our first home.

We all dream of owning tastefully done up, beautiful homes. We strive and work hard towards buying that house we believe will be our cozy haven where we can retreat after a long day's hard work, to sink comfortably into our mattresses, cushioning ourselves from all worldly worries.

However, what if this very dream turns into the bane of your existence?

I'm sure you are now perplexed, aghast even to see how ungrateful I sound.

Let me explain. I love my home, but, this is only a part of the entire truth. And, here, I speak for hundreds of other families who deal with this ugly t…

The Magician's Trick

Flames of orange
Burst beyond azure awning
Diffusing white fumes
Engulfed the muse in a swift embrace
A cacophony of sounds
Set the ambience; rousing
I looked on exhilarated
As the act played out
The muse metamorphosed
From night to day

Swimming lessons

“Not deep enough to drown” Bob, the pool instructor, had assured me.
Yet, my cries for help were drowned out by stronger arms as Bob possessed me under the pretext of keeping me afloat.
Battered, I vowed to swim against the tide.


“See these huge chains? They are used to fish out the sunken ships from seas,” fibbed my nerdy elder one earnestly to the dreamy younger who listened with rapt attention, taking in all that her brother said with complete acceptance.

“Wow, but, who put the ships under the sea, Anna*?”

"The monsters, silly! Didn't you know?"

Overhearing their conversation from the next room, I chuckled at the cute mix of innocence and vivid imagination.

The innocence, I knew, would leave them. But, I prayed that the ability to spin tales from random muses stayed. A writer’s wish, indeed!

* Elder brother in Tamil

 Linking up the 100-word fiction to the Friday Fictioneers, June 5th.

The painting

I’m held captive by the sight As the canvas slowly unfurls Warm ochre clouds hug and unite Blushing crimson, they kiss goodnight
Streaks of cooled rays, but, slip quietly to kiss goodbye to the sleeping grass Chirps and twitters lower their pitch Singing lullabies, oh, so sweetly!
Leaves on tall trees gently dance To the lilting breeze that dusk beckons I thank the stars that gather at once Smiling at the moon in cool radiance
I soak in their graceful beauty Glittering in dark ambience I’m grateful to be able to witness Nature’s bounty, a gift from heavens 

The Contest

They lined up looking their best; all polished and groomed, appearing for yet another gruelling round in the beauty pageant.  They all looked cut from the same cloth, similar in size, stature, colour and attire making the contest equally poised and difficult to judge.
Their similarities did not end with the external get-up. And, if only the inner thoughts were put to a test, the charade of the contest would’ve come to the fore. Each of the six finalists nursed a desire to crush the other and emerge victorious, believing that the end would somehow justify the means. Interestingly, these sinister thoughts were kept tightly wrapped with a superficial display of courteous and polite demeanour glittering under flashy lights.
Suddenly, there was a hush. A different kind of tension filled the air. Out of nowhere, two tiny-tots emerged to unite with their lost mother. There were some rushed talks between the judges and the lady, one of the finalists. The others gleamed with wicked relief. Ho…

Tame the wild

“They need to be tamed,” remarked the husband exasperatedly as I struggled yet again to rein in my wayward creative juices.

Epiphany struck even as I heard him cry triumphantly,

"There! Found you!"

Followed by chastened meows from under a thick blanket.

Word count: 42 _____________________
Written for 

An Omen

The night was cool and damp. She walked on easily, as though her feet never touched the ground. Her eyes were on the road ahead, but she was not sure where she was heading. A growing, gnawing sense of restlessness was enveloping around her, engulfing her in their grey fumes. And, then, she saw someone ahead. She wanted to call out, but her mouth seemed to be filled with cotton balls. Her voice seemed to have deserted her. She struggled to hasten her pace, but the sudden wind seemed to push her behind. The apparition ahead stopped suddenly and turned to face her. The sight both overwhelmed and startled her.

A loud, echoing sound boomed, shaking the ground on which she stood. The next moment, she found herself on the bed, drenched in her sweat. The alarm beside her flashed mercilessly, reminding her of reality. It was all a dream. Only, it seemed very real. The emotions she had felt seemed raw and fresh. What did it all mean? Where was she going? Who was that person? Did he mean harm o…


The fierce rain lashed against the glass pane, leaving back angry drops to slide slowly away into nothingness. The gusty wind threatened to break down the frames that ensconced the glass leaving it vulnerable.

The outside temperament matched her internal turmoil. She was incarcerated by her own thoughts that pinned her to a single place, mentally. Life was opening up to her in a way she had never imagined. But, the past clung to her; rather she had clasped her fingers tightly over a handful of painful memories that were slipping through the gaps, staining her present.
She was afraid; of not being worthy of what life was offering her; of exposing her vulnerable side to the universe. What if she failed? What if she couldn’t meet the expectations that some people had of her; or her own expectations?
Even as she battled with her thoughts, the rains magically stopped. The sun peaked ever so slightly from behind the dark clouds and a magnificent rainbow emerged. Though not an unusual sight…

Hope never sets

The day held on to the sun wishing for light to dwell a bit longer The dull crimson, but, pulled away, to a hue of blue; much deeper
A shadow of despair looked within to bury its weariness; the heart felt empty The day bid a tearful goodbye, asking for grace from the Almighty
Elsewhere, a sunflower, mellow perked up bright at the sun's warm kiss It was her turn to finally glow; A happy adieu to darkness
Life's wheel of light and dark spins at its pace, but, with a purpose Your time shall come, Pray, keep alive the dying spark!

Ghar ke side-effects

Statutory warning: The title and the following post can remind you of the plots of many Bollywood movies, but I can assure you that it is purely non-fictional and un-inspired from reel life.

It's been a long four years of having the most coveted milestone of "owning a house" under our belts. Now, if you belong to the salaried class who is constantly trying to climb up the slippery wall of affluence, only to see the wall dismally getting higher and more slippery and your legs and hands weary of climbing, not because you cannot but because you're worn down with the weight of EMIs, loans and soaring expenses, you'll understand what a big deal this is. If you do not belong to this category, I suggest you move on because what's coming next might make you laugh or cry, depending upon how you view this class:-p

The first year of the arduous house hunt involved turning down projects because they were either so ridiculously priced that you wanted to laugh hystericall…

A for Anonymously Yours #AtoZChallenge #guestpost

Come April, many bloggers worldwide participate in the AtoZChallenge. (click on the link to know more about it). Given my sporadic bursts of writing energy and motivation, I thought it prudent to give such challenges a miss. However, Blog-A-Rhythm, a blogging community started by a blogger friend and of which I'm a member, was participating in this challenge as a group which meant that we could participate in this challenge as guest bloggers choosing to write on just one or a couple of letters in the Alphabet. This was like having the cake and eating it too. So, I grabbed the a letter for myself too. Turned out that it was the first letter of the Alphabet, which meant I was to debut as the first blogger for B-A-R. Not bad, I'd say for someone who hasn't been writing very regularly, ain't it so? The bonus was that I already had a topic in mind.

So, now, without further ado, I present you my first post for the #AtoZChallenge at B-A-R (short for Blog-A-Rhythm:-)):


Bite sized philosophy!

Ketaki looked down at the dress chosen for the show. It looked elegant and new except for the slight yellowish stain at a corner. She pursed her lips at the thought of not having a new dress. It was always the hand-me-downs from her much older sister, Revathi. 
Revathi was the cynosure of all eyes. She was also dominating and confident unlike her- a puny and shy girl, thought Ketaki bitterly. Fighting all odds, perhaps, came to Ketaki naturally. Born prematurely at 7 months, the doctors had given Ketaki only 3 months to survive.
But she survived beyond that. She survived her birth, the frequent and unfair comparison with her sister and the skewed affection from people. She was not just a survivor but a brave fighter too. She’d show them all someday. For now, she would nibble at what was being offered to her. Life was tough at the circus.

Picture prompt for BAR
Word Count: 151
Linking the post to the Wordy Wednesday at the B-A-R.
To read more about the prompt and link up your posts, c…

Being sensitive towards others #1000speak

Social media can be a sticky ground when voicing opinions. Chances of getting bullied and judged by unknown people are tremendous. Harmless comments can get blown out of proportion too. People with or without any agenda target others. Likewise, messages not meant to target anyone are also bashed as being offensive. People love hopping into bandwagons on social media to feel accepted and be a part of the crowd. 

We are all sensitive people, but only when it comes to our feelings. We do not think twice before judging another and saying a nasty word, even to someone who could be a total stranger. Why is it difficult to restrain our thoughts and views? Must we always voice our views, that too in a harsh manner? 

In all the drama that we create daily, either online or offline, we seem to lose focus on the one thing that is very vital to a happy existence: Live and let live. Compassion comes naturally to a human being. You may or may not choose to respond to the call of compassion, but you ca…

I'm the rock

The waves reach a crescendo
the water tickles my feet

I want to jump high
the weight pulls me down

My friends are seasons
we laugh, we play
then they've to go
leaving me

I want to see the world
the sea and the sky
are not enough
I feel
tied down

I then see the sand
hugging me
I feel warm

A weary traveller
rests his head
over me
I feel calm

I sense a purpose
in giving
of being an anchor

I know now
why I'm a constant
why I'm the rock!

Get married again!

Among all my posts, the most viewed and read would be the one on Band Baaja Bride, a reality show on NDTV Goodtimes. The show gives to-be-wed-couples a chance to have a dream wedding: right from getting personal care to having a designer bridal jewelry and attire. The show has completed five seasons since then and has improvised quite a bit with their format whilst keeping the original theme constant.

I've moved away from the idiot box for a long time now, thereby do not patronize any particular show but the shows on Goodtimes still compel me for a brief stopover on the rare occasion when I take a trip with the TV remote. This afternoon was one such time when I watched this show as they aired their closing episode of season 5. What was unique about the episode was that the couple to wed on screen were already married for a decade and wanted to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary by renewing their vows, in their own words, to recreate the magic that seemed to have gone missi…

A letter to all the to-be-brides

To all the to-be-brides,

Marriage is considered as one of the biggest milestones in a person's life in our country, especially in the life of a woman. The idea of having a fairy-tale wedding at a dream venue, with the most flattering jewelry and gorgeous finery has been exploited to death by most film and Ad-makers, not to mention the subtle and not-so subtle diet of a beautiful princess marrying the handsome prince most of us are fed upon since childhood.

All this naturally puts in a certain amount of expectation-depending on our personality-we have from our wedding day. We certainly want to look and feel our best and cannot imagine a bad hair day or bad-skin day. That would be nothing less than a catastrophe. I thought so too. But, let me share with you my story.

I had about 6 months of time between my engagement and wedding and, but of course, I started on a disciplined regime of looking after my skin. Well-meaning advice and tips began to pour in and I carefully sifted throug…

Being online yet not out of line

It's a long accepted fact that most of our communication today happens over Facebook, Whatsapp, Twitter and the likes. The difference between a reply and a response is becoming blurry. Emoticons have replaced lengthy explanations; not to mention made it easier to convey a confused look or ecstasy over something. Whether you're feeling blue or euphoric, whether you want to cringe or ROFL at something, just click the right icon and you are sorted.

But, not all is hunky-dory with the instant messaging world. If we aren't careful, we could fall prey to quick-sand of narcissism and impatience that throngs this world.

Haven't we all experienced the restlessness after we post something on whatsapp or FB? We wait with bated breath for that first 'like' or 'comment'. Much like the girl in this Tata Docomo Ad. The messenger Aps have made it worse by adding features that lets the person posting or sending the message know whether the message has been read by the…

R-tistic expressions

R is creative in many ways. He can spend hours doodling, drawing cars, whales, planets and rockets and colouring them. The figures may not exactly resemble what he says they represent yet the detailing is unmistakable and also laudable for his age. When he was around 3-4 years of age, he hardly exhibited any interest in drawing or colouring. In fact he began to recognize solid colours only by 3 years of age by which time I started to have serious doubts of whether he was colour blind! Then and now; what a change of nature! He loves to colour now and if I were not exasperated to find tiny bits of crayons tucked into cushion crevices, strewn bits of paper cut into various shapes and duly painted and streaks of various hues on my bedspread, I'd have my camera perpetually hung around my neck to capture the creations!

The guy is also not a stickler for conventions. A whale is anything but blue in his book. No creation ever is painted in one single hue. And, that makes it quite attract…

Beginning on a high

Ringing in the new year the way I do for the past four or five years holds a special place in my heart. I've had my share of the routine New Year bashes with close friends and/or in the company of some hundred strangers, shaking to silly music played out by a screaming DJ, and the works. Nothing against this, but like they say once you taste nectar, sugar loses its sweetness appeal. So it has been with me. If you'd have noticed, I take a vacation to my parents' during Christmas every year. It's not just a vacation but an opportunity that I design myself each year to spend the New Year’s Eve and ring in the first day of the New Year with some divinity for company.
While I'm not a ritualistic/religious person in the true sense, I do believe in the power of a force above us that guides us when we choose to seek its light and grace. I also shy away from discussing my relationship with the supreme or God, as we may choose to address, either on my blog or with a group, no…