Life, and its blessings !

Mom :Wake up- its 5
Me: Yeah . ten minutes . Please
Ten minutes later – coming straight from the kitchen
She :Wake up- its six now !!
Me , half asleep –“Ma it was just five ten minutes back . Does time have to fly only when I sleep ?”
She – “You will take good care of him , right?”
Me- “Good care of whom?”
She “Your father- I will die before him.”
Me , still half asleep – “I Love you Ma!”
She – “Go take a look at him – he sleeps like a baby”
Me- “I know. I’m his daughter. I’m sleeping too, by the way. But you only love him”
She – “If you don’t take care of my husband after I’m gone, I swear I will come back as a ghost and haunt you. I am street smart .My mind can get corrupt some times. He’s pure at heart.”
Me (snuggling up to her lap) – “I will do all I can to take good care of him. You needn’t tell me to do that .You only think of him and never me Ma! I’m nothing to you!! Have you ever told him to take care of me? No na? ”
She – “Pappa will take care of you.”
Me – *Sigh* getting up to give her a bear hug and make up for an argument we had the previous night
She – “How will the both of you manage with no street smartness in you at all after I’m gone? You are like him only. Total child at heart. You must learn how to stand up for yourself sometimes. Otherwise, people will only take advantage of you. ”
Me- “Let them try to ! It will get taken care of when the time comes.”
She(handing me a steaming hot cup of coffee) – “Tut! Tut! Like father, like daughter!!” (Shaking her head) “Ayyo!! Who is going to take care of whom after I’m gone? Both these people don’t speak or stand up for themselves. Only god can take care of them !”

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A year and a half after her death, he lay in the CCU. His body was deteriorating, part by part. Every time he opened his eyes, he imagined that he was at the place he loved most- An ashram that my family is associated to. The doctors had to be from there, he thought. The nurses too were from there. His guru visiting him was like one of his last wishes coming true. It was time to let go. It was yet to sink in, but it was time



The alarm rang and I jumped out of bed – The day a daughter dreaded most had finally arrived. I hadn’t slept all night. As a little girl, the very thought of letting Dad and Mom go was my worst nightmare ever. But it was time to do so . Much as I dreaded it, it was meant to end like this.

Would Mom have done the same thing as I did?
Would she have let go so easily with a smile ?
Did I love him too less, Did I love him too much ?
Crap! Did I even have a heart?

These questions rang through my sleep deprived head that night. I did not know the answers then. I do not know now either. All I knew was that he didn’t deserve the pain his body was taking. The way he clutched my hand in fear every time IV was administered said it all. His eyes said it all. Nothing else mattered.

Letting go was not easy. It meant coming home to an empty dining table with no dad to drink coffee or beer with. It would mean that I would have no one to cook for, no one who would wait to say his prayers with me every evening. It would mean that there would be no more voices screaming “Out!” or “goal!” every time the football or cricket tournaments ran. The one person who wanted me to “freak out” every time I went to a pub with a friend, but also got worried if I didn’t return home would be gone. Most importantly, it would mean that I wouldn’t be able to give back anymore for all the love I had received. He made my rubber bands and tied my pig tails when I was at school. He stitched clothes for me out of waste cloth that I would proudly wear on my birthdays, telling my friends “Daddy made it !” When I failed a subject first , he calmly told me to take failure in my stride, and explained that all I had to do was try harder to succeed.

But then, letting go was all I could do them. All that courage just came from nowhere in a matter of five minutes or lesser.

But at the same time, a deep sense of satisfaction prevails. He died while I was holding his hand. Six months before his death, there was talk of me going overseas to pursue a masters degree and work in parallel. I was about to resign my current job, but decided against doing so. I had no reason to decide against it then, but looking back, it all falls into place. I know that I am a self-confessed agnostic. I do what I think is right at the moment, and listen to what comes from within me most times. He was like that too, and life has always given us something to be grateful for. This is much, much more than what I asked for, ever. Not every daughter is blessed with the fortune of having the two people she loves the most die in her own arms.

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Rebellious notes…

She has a question and I’m unable to answer it!” my father explained to him with an exasperated expression

He looked at me with a smile on his face and asked “What is it?

Appa  and Amma always tell me to fall at everyone’s feet, or do a namaskaram and seek every other person’s blessing. I don’t know half the people whos blessings I seek . How do I know if they are blessing or cursing me ? Why am I being forced to bow down to every other person as a mark of respect? Respect should come from within shouldn’t it ? 

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Don’t flinch

Mashed Musings

Don’t flinch.
Stare at three year old Aylan.
Stare at him lying on a beach, his face half buried in the wet sand.
Stare at his bright clothes.
Stare at his tiny hands, his shoes.
Stare at his future that drowned with him.
Stare at the million ways he could have been saved.

Don’t look away.
Feel numb. Feel hollow. Feel anything.
But don’t look away.
Don’t close the window hastily because you can’t see such pictures.
Don’t look away because you won’t be able to sleep.
Don’t thank god that this wasn’t your child.

Imagine this was your child.
Imagine that was your country you were running away from.
Imagine you holding your family, praying for a better future.
Imagine you holding their dead bodies, staring at the ocean.
Imagine you wishing the earth to break in million tiny pieces.

Imagine you are the police officer who picked him…

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Serene Tea Musings

Half a mug of water ,freshly set on the stove,

one spoon of dehydrated leaves ,mixed with the water above,

boiled a while ,and topped up with milk , turns into a concoction called tea

What would my world be without Tea ? Sometimes when I think about it, I feel glad that I didn’t exist before tea was discovered! If the world does come to an end when I’m alive, I always hope it expires after tea time.

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Snakes, Mythology and Irish Coffee

Among UNESCO’s world heritage sites, is a place called Vitlycke museum. This places is home to a few ancient carvings that apparently depict ancient Nordic practices. The museum is housed in a district called “Tanumshede”, which falls between Goteborg and Oslo. Since I was at Goteborg for a business visit , I decided to visit Tanumshede on a beautiful , sunshiny saturday. I came back with one of the most wonderful experiences I would look back to and smile at for a long time.

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Virtually Your’s

“Is he kidding?” Aditi thought.

“He probably doesn’t know what he’s saying”  she thought again. “He must be borraccha!”

“But men speak the truth when they’re drunk !”

“We’ve never even met. What if he doesn’t  find me attractive enough?” asked she

“Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, girl … You never know !”

“I look like a hippo. He looks like … Ummmm watchamacallit…thin and tall   .. like a giraffe maybe?”

“Hippo weds Giraffe .. Ha ha ! He deserves something better! How can I be a good match ?”

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Que Sera Sera (Whatever will be, will be !)

We all have that one person who with just one look, text, or call makes everything better.

One look  at the concerned person, One word from him/her or even a text and all the problems in your world will seem to disappear into thin air

Some of us have that person (Women would call the concerned person their knight is shining armor!)

Some of us .. don’t.

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