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Archive for May, 2011

Yippie, I’m one-month-old

Today, my blog is one-month old. It’s the first milestone so to say though I don’t think there will be many, 🙂 except for the timelines like this, that too if I manage to outdo myself. So why not celebrate the one that comes on their own, like this one. Looking at the number of posts, I obviously feel not-so-good. But going by my assumption, I feel happy, something better than nothing, that ways you know. It’s a milestone for me that I managed one month. Hope I continue. I never like doing things for the sake of it. Love to enjoy them at my own pace, though it’s completely another thing that my pace is equal to a snail’s pace, or even less.

So, halting for a moment, and enjoying this brief moment of being one-month old. Please say congrats! Won’t you? 🙂

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Shocked & shattered!

What happens when someone breaches your trust? What happens when someone steps into the forbidden territory, a space too close to be eyed upon, leaving you dissected and ripped apart?

For instance, you maintain a personal diary, keep it safe in your almirah and believe the world is fair enough to not read it even if someone finds it (this ultra trustworthy nature has betrayed me quite often). Years later, you get to know that your diary was read by someone, that too many many years ago. What? The shock, the disbelief! I mean more shocking than someone reading your diary is the shock that someone read it years before and you didn’t even get to know of it. How stupid that can be. Yes, blind honesty and blind trust is sheer stupidity, I learnt it the hard way.

Or, you genuinely trust someone that you share your e-mail password. And without an iota of doubt, believe that your mails will not be scrutinised. And you keep on believing it till you are proved wrong. How does it feel?

And worse, what is it like when you realise that someone has been spying on you for as long as only he or she can remember. Or what when based on that half information and knowledge, accusations flow. And finally, to break the straw, when to cross-check the information, third person is contacted without your knowledge.

It hurts, it hurts beyond words that someone took you so lightly that he or she thought there was nothing wrong in stepping into that little private space of yours that you share with yourself. We all may not have some earth-shattering secrets to keep but we all have some subtle emotions, feelings and other sundry things that we’ll like to keep to ourselves. Some things are not shared for the fear of causing pain to the loved ones. When someone enters that territory, you feel teared, pierced and ripped apart, too numb to say anything. How long does it take to build that trust again, to smile again and to make peace with the fact that someone robbed you of that thin veil that exists between you and your own self.

Do you have the right to feel cheated or is it so that the other person should be given the benefit of doubt and forgiven, thinking that he or she did it just to make sure that you don’t lose your vision and go astray? Should you be shattered that you were not trusted or talked to or should you forgive and forget, as the person is too dear to be ignored, too young to be mature (relatively) and too close to get even with?

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The Mother’s Day is over and so is all the excitement and commercialisation associated with the day. It feels good to dedicate a day to your mother and let her know how special she is. A mother’s role is such that her love and care, most of the time, is taken for granted. We might appreciate her each and every act, but don’t tell her this very often.

So, I waited for the Mother’s Day to be over, to let the “love you mom” voices die down a bit, so that I can in my own humble and quiet way could tell my mom that whatever she does for me means a lot. I am one daughter who is not very vocal in expressing gratitude towards my mom, though I feel it every moment. The best part is, as a mom, she knows that her daughter might not say each and everything, but she feels it from the bottom of her heart. So, today is the day I chose to let her know how special she is to me.

Mom, the Mother’s Day, as celebrated the world over, is over. But how can only one day be yours when you make all my days so special, with your love, care and sacrifices. But yes, it’s a great opportunity to share what you mean to me, a thing I don’t tell you often.

It begins with early morning, the assurance that you are there to wake me up on time, on days when I sleep like a horse after snoozing my alarm endless times.

I know that I just have to get up and get ready for office and do nothing else, for you will make the breakfast for me, pack my lunch (for my friends and roomies too), and very lovingly keep that mug of milk with almonds in the freezer, so that I can have it just the way I love. Trust me, no one makes it better than you.

I know that you keep your work on hold just to ensure that I am on time for my work.

Even amidst the early morning chaos, you never forget to check whether I have reached safely or no, even if I forget to call you up in the mayhem.

Every time I leave home, it pinches that now, you will have to manage the home all alone, for, both your daughters are working away from home.

I know that when I get late in office, you don’t sleep till I am back, and surprise me with your call even at 1 am. I know you are there to share my joys and sorrows, every time, anytime.

The best part about you is, you bind a home. We are together as a family just because you are the binding thread. You keep everyone in touch. There are times when I don’t get to talk to dad, brother or sister. We four don’t talk to one another daily but we all four talk to you everyday without fail. So, whatever happens at home, I get to know it from you. What dad, sister and brother are doing, how has been their day, where they went, when they slept, you share it all. You are the connecting link.

When I come home on Saturday night, you painstakingly prepare a dinner that I love, can’t forget how you separately bake stuff for me (so that it’s oil–free) when you are making fried food for some guests. When I prepare to leave home on Monday, you make sure I carry all the things I need, even if I forget. You never forget to pack goodies for me and my friends. Even if I say, “Mom, no more space to keep anything more, you manage to squeeze an apple in my bag, saying, “have it while working.”

You are the one who shaped my personality, my character, my dreams and my essence. A mom who taught me to be generous with guests, no matter how much pain they are, to take criticism in my stride with a smile, to bear the good and the bad with gratitude, the compassion and dedication towards friends and foes and above all, to keep the faith in God even during the hardest of times.

These are just a few things to mention. There is so much more to share but no words to express. Still want to say, you mean a world mom. Thanks for everything. I love you more than the words an say.

(P.S:  When I talk about mom, it feels that I am talking about all the mothers in general. For, I think, all mothers in the world are the same. Same love, same care and same unconditional love. So, how is your mom like and what kind of relation do you share with her? Would love to hear from you about the bond that creates, sustains and nurtures life. )

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Wedding in the family is always fun. The halla-gulla associated with the whole event makes it so anticipated, cherished and enjoyable. So is the state of my mind at the moment, as my cousin is getting married on May 6. More than that, it’s the excitement of seeing my sister, who will be coming from Mumbai for the wedding after many many months. Everyday, long calls are made, discussing and planning for things to be done, stuff to be worn and sharing the usual excitement of being together as a family.

Though I try to keep everything at the minimal, still there’s so much to shop and hop around. Clothes, footwear, bags, the perfect piece of earrings, neck wears, kajal, eyeliner, lipstick, lipgloss, nail polish, nail remover, the bracelet, bangles, the blush-on, did I still forget something??? (Please lemme know, there’s still some time.) Then, these things have to be paired with different dresses for different occasions, so have to arrange them accordingly.

Add to it that I am a week-end guest at home, half of my stuff is lying at home, half with me at my room, and the two twains never meet. If the suit is here, the dupatta is there, if the top is here, the trousers is there.

Besides, going by my track record, I am sure that when the time comes to get ready for the occasion, half of the stuff will be borrowed by relatives, half of it will be broken and some lost. Then, I know that no matter what, my sister will keep her stuff in my handbag. “Hey, you are carrying a handbag, can you JUST keep my handkerchief, my kajal, my lipper in your bag,” is her trademark line.

So, you see it’s no cakewalk to attend a wedding. Though my bags have been packed and stuffed and zipped with the help of four friends, some things are still left behind, as I have no space to accommodate them. Sigh!

And when we’ll load the stuff in the car while going, dad will ask, “Itna saamaan, ghar basana hai kya?” Well, he doesn’t know, it’s just the tip of iceberg. And as is God’s plan with every perfect setting, I will be working late in office two days before going for the wedding.

Wish me luck!

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