Sealed Staircase

The abandoned bungalow had its doors opened today.They said some auction was taking place but no one cared except little Asmara. She remembered going to that bungalow every evening and sit with the old lady on the staircase with tattered rug laid on it. 

The old lady owned that bungalow and lived alone in it. Asmara would visit her every evening because she thought that lady resembled to her granny, who passed away when she was 3. They talked about fairies, princesses and everything that could exist in the world of fantasy. 

Asmara sneaked into the bungalow, everything was labelled 'sealed'. The dining area, the living room and the rugged staircase too. Suddenly something pinched in her brain. She ran hastily towards her home...all winded and worried, she asked to her mom, "will they auction away the staircase too?"

PS: This post is linked to Magpie Tales

It shouldn't have rained...

‘It shouldn't have rained today’ worried about the clothes she left on the railing outside, she thought to herself; but the rain didn't care about her worries, it continued throughout the day.

Sitting at the corner seat in bus, on the way back from her office, she thought of all the bad that rain had possibly done to her in this particular season; arrgh! How she hated those droplets falling down from the sky.

Traffic jams are quite common during heavy rainfall, which obviously added to her anxiety; pretending to look aloof from all the chaos happening inside her head, she stared outside the window.

Two street kids were busy in sailing their paper boats in the still waters of rain…For a tiny second few flashes from memory lane overtook the internal chaos…she suddenly recalled how much she loved rainy season.

And yes, this post is written for Five Sentence Fiction's prompt - RAIN

Reading नानी माँ's Mind

If you ask me...Whose mind I would read, If I could read minds?

I would say, Obviously mine...I sincerely believe that one part of my brain is written in secret language and if I ever get some super powers, I would really like to read it and save myself from constant state of confusion

But, you guys have made this situational question even more tricky and interesting. So No Escape! Let's begin...

What if you are blessed with a power to read others’ minds? Whose mind will you read and why? What will you hear it say?

WHOSE?

I would read my maternal grandmother's (नानी माँ's) mind. She left this world more than a decade ago. But, she was the one, who made me wish if I had powers to read her mind. 

WHY?

She couldn't speak. Paralysis attack had disabled her vocal cords completely. She could utter a very few meaningless words by putting a lot of efforts on her brain, throat and entire mouth. But, most of the time, none of us could ever understand what she exactly wanted to say.  

This would upset her and she would prefer to keep mum and sit in a lone corner...for a long time. I can still picture her sitting at the edge of the window, lost in thoughts, talking inside her brain or may be waiting for us to read her mind and understand what she wanted to say...and probably save her from painful experiences that she encountered while putting extra efforts to speak & communicate with us...

Ah! Everytime I SAW her like that, I wished for such a superpower...

What will I probably hear it say?

Now that I am imagining that I am reading her mind, holding her hands gently, looking into her eyes and she isn't saying anything because she need not to...I can now read it all in her mind...Without putting any pressure on her vocal cords...

And I hear her mind say that...she is happy...happy that finally I have managed to get this super power... For a long time, she waited to be heard...she wanted to talk and she wanted to be listened carefully...

As the ship of beautiful imaginations sail, I sit with tear filled eyes and blurred vision, listening to non-stop chatter her mind is communicating to me...Oh! How long she has waited just to express what is in her mind...

***

Thank You Blogadda

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Love Grandma

Today, on 5th January, I think of the lady, who introduced me with fairytales... And all i want to do is write her a letter, which is due for years...

Dear Grandma...

Love...

It has been 15 years since i saw you. Once day you disappeared to never return back. I was told that you have shifted to a new and better world. A world, from where no one comes back...They told me you were transported to a new world, which is far above from earth...

I wondered for months that how could it be possible. You never even went to bathroom without discussing it with me then going to another world and that too with no return ticket? It was tough to survive without you. Nights were longer without your fairytales, food didn't taste earthy without your herbs and a lot changed because you were not there...!

I yearned for you, cried for you and one day asked Dadda about your returning back... He gently placed my palm on my own heart and said that you haven't gone anywhere.. you have just got the special powers to dissolve yourself into invisible particles and inhabited inside our hearts forever...

I touched my heart and felt the warmth that only hugging you could offer.

It as 5th January 1999 and after 15 years, I still feel the warmth... I know you are here and will be forever...

But still I miss you. I missing seeing your beautiful face, those deep eyes, I miss listening to your voice and I miss the hugs that we shared...

Stay in heaven, collect beautiful stories and do visit my dreams some day and whisper them in my ears...Grandma..

Love

Piu

Bunch of Moments

So, you don’t love me?
No.
And that kiss?
May be we had a moment, that’s all.
Tears rolling down her eyes blurred her vision and she could barely capture the glance of him walking away, standing numb she wondered the thing she named love, was actually just a bunch of such moments.

This Five Sentence Fiction is shared with Five Sentence Fiction - Moments.

Lets Transport to a New Year...New Year Wishes

Alrighty! I have packed my bag… My bike is ready and I am transporting myself into a New Year.

Do you wanna know what is in my bag that is going to be transported with me to the next year…

Okiee.. You all are my lovingly beloved blog buddies and readers, so you deserve to know… Here goes the list:

• Memories
• Few Dreams
• A Camera
• Smiles
• Books
• Diaries & pens
• Beautiful Experiences 
• Lessons 
• Hopes
• Strength
• Promises
• Good Health
• To do list
• Music
• Friends (That’s you)
• & this blog for sure!

Wish you all a great and delightful year ahead! Lets ride to the future! 2014 IS HERE!

Days with Poona-My First Ever Friend

Image Source-www.trulygraphics.com

Childhood memories are countless. But, whenever it comes to friendship one name effortlessly pops up in my mind-Poona, my short-term neighbor, who walked into my town with her parents. Her parents belonged to Barmer (Rajasthan) and they would come in the season of crop cutting in search of work. They would stay at the junkyard of big landowners until the crop season was finished.

Poona was their only child. Pale skin, black eyes and long brown hair. She had sharp nose, pierced neatly with a thin silver wire. She looked cute but was very shy. She didn’t play with anyone around. She would sit outside her little temporary hut and look at the kids playing outside. Her innocence often struck me. I was 7 years old, smart enough to know the meaning of friends. Till that date, I had made friends without asking them for their friendship. But she was special. To bring her out of her shy zone, I had to extend my hand for friendship.

“Will you be my friend?” I asked her, smiling.
She blushed and smiled back, extending her hand to say yes!

So that was it. The first lesson I learnt in my life about friendship was that it was easy to make friends.

 Me and Poona relished each moment of our friendship. Singing filmy songs out loud, dressing up like queens, using my mom’s dupattas to drape sarees and dancing all day long. We would often steal my mom’s face compact to touch up our faces and look like actresses.

Days passed, my summer holidays were over and I had to go to school. I wanted Poona to attend school with me. I insisted my dad to convince my principal to allow Poona sit with me in my class. And, I insisted my mom to convince her parents to let her go with me.

Principal agreed but Poona’s family didn’t. They had to leave in next 3 days and Poona was obviously traveling back with them. I requested them to let Poona live with us. I promised I would take care of her like my soul-sister. But they didn’t agree. I hated it and this made me cry.

Dad couldn’t see me crying, so her convinced Poona’s parents to let her go to school with me for these 3 days. I was happier and she was the happiest now. We walked to school hand in hand, sat next to each other in the classroom, I taught her to write her name in Hindi and English. We would play Aam-churi during the lunch time, after finishing our lunchbox of course.

Those three days were the best days of my life. But, they passed very soon. Poona waved me goodbye, to never return again. I missed her for months. I would imagine that one day she would come back and we will play together. But the day never came. Though, with time, I forgot to miss her.

I grew up and went to hostel for my further studies. Lately, when I was back home for vacations, I saw a familiar face sitting with my father, talking to him. It was Lal Jee, yes Poona’s father.

A forgotten friend’s memory shivered through my heart. I rushed to Lal Jee uncle and asked “How are you uncle, how’s Poona, where is she?”

“She is married now Bitia (daughter) has 3 little daughters. She has sent a letter for you and she also wanted your photo.”

I was thrilled to see a little piece of letter, written by Poona. It read-
“Tumhari bahut yaad ati hai Piu, tumhari dost Poona”
[Translation: I miss you a lot Piu, Your friend Poona]

Wow, her smiling face appeared in front of my eyes. She had learnt to read and write the biggest gift she could ever give to me. I was in tears.

I handed over the only photograph of her I had, in which we both were going to school. The only memory that I had of her. But I believed she deserved it more than me.

But, I couldn’t write anything in response to her the most beautiful letter for me.

I would like to thank Dove Contest for letting me relish the wonderful memories I had with my best friend.

This post is written under Dove Guessing Game Contest organized in association with Indiblogger.

Know more about wonderful Dove Guessing Game With My Friend

Know more about the contest here-#DoveFaceTest

Do Not Disturb: The Blue Envelop

“Do Not Disturb” Yes, this was scribbled on that blue envelop she found underneath the abandoned wardrobe. She didn’t use this closet for years. She would use it while she was a child but now it didn’t match her standards.  Today she had to bent down and search for her little boy’s toy train, which accidently landed under that wardrobe. The blue envelop accompanied the train while it was fetched out.

She was too busy to ignore that piece of paper easily, but she couldn’t because those three words in inverted commas were written by her mother. How could she forget her mother’s handwriting? Mother was the one, who taught her to write.

Escaping from her daily life duties, she managed to steam few minutes and unwrap that envelop. There was a letter in it. Her mom’s letter…! Turning too restless, she unfolded its creases…The letter read:

My little Princess,

I don’t want to disturb you so keeping it short. You have grown up, too busy to look after your life. You are moving forward, which is life’s rule and its most prominent part. But, memories are also a little part of life. Memories allow us to look back sometimes. You and I have the most wonderful memories. Earlier, you stayed inside me and then you came in this world to stay with me, completely.

You made me complete. We played together, bed-time stories, discussing about your mathematics phobia and exploring the delight of homemade foods. Do you remember I had to go for a medical check-up and you didn’t want to miss our picnic plan? So we decided to ditch the doctor’s appointment and head straight to children’s park. And magic had happened that day; my fever was gone, without taking any medicine. Do you know why my princess? Because you were there…!! My best ever remedy.

Time flies when happy days are there. You and I were best friends and soon you grew up. You learnt to make friends outside and it turned harder for you to spare some time for me. But I knew childhood is incomplete without friends like you. I cherished your friendships with other kids, but the kid inside me, who was there exclusively for you often felt hurt and ignored. But I managed.

Then you stepped into adolescence and we started having the long series of arguments over any random things. You father called it Generation gap and you blamed my Authoritative Nature.

Teenage successfully handed you over to Youth and far away from me. Every time I wanted to break in a conversation, you replied, “Mom, can’t you see I am busy, please do not disturb”

This Do not Disturb thing became the thin line between us and I could never gather courage to erase.

I often sit in this little room, where you were born and where your childhood is still treasured. I look at the colorful walls, the pencil sketches you scribbled on the walls and your tiny wardrobes and my heart yearns for a soulful cry and a gentle hug from you to soothe it forever.

Now you are a mother. Your son is a toddler yet and I am worried for you my child. I don’t want you to have motherhood, where you are gradually drifted away from your own child. Stay connected with your child and transform with time, so that you can be able to enter in your child’s life even when he grows up, which I failed to do.

Spend as much time as you can with your kids, before they ask you to “Do Not Disturb” them.

Your Mom.

She clinched the letter next to her heart and released a soulful sigh! She wanted to rush back to her childhood and hug her mom forever and never let her go!

Moms never die because they care for their child even after their death. That’s what her Mother had done-Left a note, which had taught her the biggest lesson of her life.

Kissing the letter again and again, she rushed to the garden. Hugging her little boy tightly, she said, no school today, we are going on picnic.

Kids are so happy when they get to bunk the school officially! He put his necks around her Mommy and kissed her cheeks multiple times.

Putting her social networking and work status to “Do Not Disturb”, she was all busy in relishing her life’s best moments.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Chronicles of Aggarbatti to Ambi Pur journey

Ok, I am going to tell you the whole story about how Ambi Pur entered my life. We’ll start with the flashback highlights and progressively will review the product.

The Flashback

Image Source-http://www.vectorstock.com/royalty-free-vector/incense-stick-vector-317108

Tired of a hectic day of work as I finally reach the staircase of my home, that very familiar sharp smell hits my nostrils. God, this Aggarbatti (incense stick) trend of these second floor tenants is going to kill me for sure. Why can’t they just get a good room freshener? Arggh, the smell of these Aggarbattis is too sharp to penetrate through my nasal cavity and drag me towards nausea (almost). Every time I tried to convey this message to that lady, she would make annoying faces and babble about the benefits of Aggarbattis followed by some religious comments.

Before I could shout, “Then for God sake, get some incense sticks, which have frail fragrance, forget your neighbors; at least don’t torture The Almighty with this suffocating smell.” She would slam the door and walk away.

Recalling these instances, today also, I don’t feel wise to replay the entire conversation episode with the Aggarbatti lady. So I walk upstairs, keeping my mouth shut. But wait, I am upstairs now and rather than diminishing, the impact of sharp Aggarbatti smell is enhanced. What the fish is this… I am sure, that arrogant lady must have ignited two more incense sticks intentionally to take revenge for all the dialogues I often pass to her.

Trapped in the thoughts of anguish, anger and doubt, I ring the bell and my 'Mommy the great' stands at the door, smiling and holding 5 ignited Aggarbattis in her hand. It’s enough to blow up my mind and I can’t really figure out what has happened.

“Mom, where did you get these from” I am sure she could sense my anger!

“Well, I borrowed these from the lady downstairs”

“What the…f… Mommy… You… You went downstairs to borrow these Aggarbattis from that arrogant Aggarbatti aunty?? Mom what’s wrong with you?”

“Why are you so paranoid and what is this Aggarbatti.. Aggarbatti… it is the traditional room freshener” now she is talking like a Mother.

“Oh please! You know that it hits in my head and it has nothing to do with room freshening Maa… Now please extinguish these incense sticks, they are driving me nuts”

“Well, they are still better than the pesky room freshener you bought” oh, so she’s getting sarcastic now.

“Mom, don’t call for a WORD-WAR, I am telling you. How would I know about the fragrance of that room freshener until I get to open it and don’t you know it comes sealed…SEALED” I spoke uninterruptedly, while busy in dousing those incense sticks.

“Poor lady, she would have used these sticks for 5 days” Mom was concerned about Aggarbatti aunty.

“They are still usable, return them to her and tell her to GET A LIFE” It was a breathless sentence.

“I would rather tell you GO GET A BETTER ROOM FRESHNER” hell, she’s so good at sarcasm

“I am gonna get one for sure” I say firmly.

“Oh Yeah” sarcasm continues in her expressions and tone

“Yeah Yeah” affirmation continues too.

Image Source-Google Images

The climax & conclusion

This one of the mini Daily Word Wars leads me to trust the advertisement of Ambi Pur (Smelly to Smiley) being broadcasted for so long. Also, i had noticed #FreshNHappy social media campaign by makers of this air freshener. So, I finally decide to trust almost everything they tell in the advertisement and spend my valued 220 rupees and buy one of the aplenty fragrances offered by Ambi Pur.

I pick Ambi Pur Air Effects Blossoms & Breeze, why? Because I loved the name of the product and of course the color of freshener bottle is quite tranquil.

Now, as I open the spray bottle for the first time and use my index finger to spray it in the air, my Mom looks at me with suspicious eyes. She is quite sure I have no idea about purchasing room fresheners at least. And, till the date, her belief about me has been proved ABSOLUTELY RIGHT.

But, I wish today things be different. I spray it.

The Review

Yes, Ambi Pur has changed my life! Voilla…! I AM HAPPY that this product didn’t ditch. Its fragrance is way better and enchanting. The tranquility and freshness that it adds to the air certainly justifies the outer design of its bottle.

As you press the spray nob and let the micro particles come out to fresh n up your surroundings, certainly magic happens. As you close your eyes, you can simply feel the bliss of being on a holiday in nature’s lap.

And, it’s amazing that this air freshening formula by Ambi Pur really deals with:

Smelly feet

Image source-http://www.thinkquest.org/pls/html/think.library

Smelly Socks of course

Image Source-http://strictlycoffee.co.za/blog/tag/coffee-stops-smelly-sock-smell/

The dirty things/Rotten stuff in the surroundings

Image Source-http://www.freightandvolume.com/news/

Lack of oxygen

Image Source-http://badeventer.blogspot.in/2012/04/i-rode-my-horse-for-first-time.html

Smell of Garbage

Image Source-http://islamicvoice.com/islamicvoice/buddy-and-the-garbage-bin/

And a lot more I guess...!!

The most liked factor: What I love the most about this particular room freshener by Ambi Pur is that it is too gentle on nostrils. You can simply inhale and exhale to enjoy strong breathing process when the freshener is poured in the air. This has never before been possible for me, neither with my random selection of air-fresheners nor with Aggarbatti ofcourse!

So, through this post, I would like to thank Ambi Pur for:

·         Rescuing me from painful experience of headache and nausea when I would inhale any of the sharp nose penetrating smell in the name of air freshening.

·         Making my mother believe that I can choose right things, so she would let me marry the man I choose for myself.

·         To transform the ambiance of my house, without affecting our daily breathing routine.

·         To add pinch of freshness and healthiness in my surrounding.

·         To solve my problem of air freshening for LIFETIME.

·         To give me this chance of sharing such wonderful experience.

PS: I am planning to gift one Ambi Pur air freshener to my beloved Aggarbatti aunty too. Hope she would understand the difference between sharp smell and soothing scent.

Note: The review is my official entry to contest Ambi Pur Home Range (Smelly Air to Smiley Air), organized by Indiblogger in association with Ambi Pur India.

To explore more about Ambi Pur's new product range and latest updates, click-https://www.facebook.com/AmbiPurIndia 

Recollections from my Mom's Journal: "Dabur Chyavanprash & The Wing Story"

I am delightfully writing this post for dabur’s contest not because the prizes are too lucrative (of course they are) but I have other reason. Actually the term Dabur Chyavanprash reminds me of chapters about me from my mom’s personal journal ‘Being Mother’. Though, there’s a lot of stuff there, which will unfold bloopers, blunders and some embarrassing secrets of course. I am not gonna bring them up here. Period.

But my childhood has interesting connection with Dabur Chyavanprash, reason being my mom’s over awareness towards my health. I have read her journal thousand times and I would care to recall and mention the incidents in my words, which belong to the ongoing contest’s topic.

Please note: Everything written in Normal style font, belongs to the journal &everything written in Italic style font is inserted as Author's thoughts about the topic. 
These are recollections from the journal, written in author's own language!

The Infant Warmth

The thin membrane on her miniature body is too fragile that I am afraid to touch it. She lies calmly in my lap, her eyes closed, relaxed and she smiles faintly in sleep. She must be dreaming of her past life. Uplifted cheekbones, little fuller lips and a tiny nose; Wait! A tiny nose! No she has a flat nose. Me and her father both have sharp pointed nose then where did she get this one from. I scroll down pictures of my entire family in my mind and find no one such a Chinese style nose. 

Too obsessed with beauty factor for my newborn lady, I pinch her frail nose slightly and try to pull it up, considering that the organ is raw & fresh, so I can give it a desired shape and she outcries soulfully. My illusion for beauty and perfect breaks as her hollering breaks in my heart straight. A strong wave of pain and fear passes through my body. I gently hug her and the infant warmth makes me feel healed. Same happens to her I guess. She is calm now. My every heartbeat is promising her that I will protect her against any type of pain and her calm face conveys that she believes me.

Walking Doll

She is nine and half months old now. She has started walking barely.  One, two, three and sits. She takes three steps carefully and sits down. I am so glad she has started walking so early.

I am too busy at noticing her growing up and offering her best care she deserves to gain a stronger immune system that I often have to compensate it with not writing in the journal. But, whenever I can steal time, I love to mention the great moments about her childhood. It’s the only way of securing her babyhood.

She and Winters:

Born in rainy season, this girl seems to be fond of foggy winters. She’s turning stubborn day by day. Her favorite task is to walk on the chilled ground barefooted. She often keeps taking out wet mud from the flowerpots out in the garden and plays with water all the day. Whenever I try to stop her, she yells and twists her lips in funny shapes to distract me.

In fact, she wakes up earlier than me and starts doing her these daily cool activities. I sometimes hide behind the curtains and rejoice her cute activities. I wonder how strong kids are. She plays with water and muds all the day but no signs of cold or sneezing reflect. But I am too paranoid about her health. I cannot see her immune system getting weaker.

Whenever I talk to my mother-in-law for my prime concern, she laughs and says ‘Tabriyan ro palo to bakariya chare’. Yeah, I have been very familiar to this famous proverb since childhood. My mother and grandmother would often say this Marwari (Language spoken in southwest of Rajasthan state) proverb. It means Goats eat kid’s cold.

But, I am worried because I remember being healthy as long as I was kid and then when I grew up, health problems started hitting my one after another. This happened because my stronger immune system during childhood was mistaken as lifelong health backup. And, nothing specific was done to make it stronger. The result was weakened immune system with time and I was prone to health issues and seasonal ailments. But, I cannot let this happen with my daughter, as I promised her very first day that I will protect her health forever, no matter what.

***

This trend is common in India. Children, who are born healthy, are not brought up healthy because their parents ignore the idea of strengthening their existing immune system. They believe that things will go the same and overlook the fact that as the kid grows he/she needs to fight with a wider scale of health challenges. And, to beat these challenges, a stronger immune system is required.

The concept is very simple. For a tree to grow taller, become stronger and sustain for longer, a strong and deep root system is required. To make this happen, the gardener needs to offer it water, fertilizers, enough of sunshine, rain and complete care since when the seeds are sawn and specially when the tree is a little plant.

Similarly, parents need to pay complete attention towards strengthening the roots of their kids’ immune system.

Finding the solution: Flipping through the The Charak Samhita Secrets:  

My father always suggested us all to consume enough to Amla (Indian gooseberry), Giloy (Gulancha Tinospora), Tulsi (holy basil) and Mustak (Cyperus rotundus) to prevent from cold. Also, he explained numerous other benefits of these herbal assets. Also, he always recommended drinking boiled cow milk.

But, as she grows up, she wants raw milk, doesn’t event looks towards Amla (Indian gooseberry). Her stubborn nature terrifies me. I have to look for some other ways. Probably I should look for some Ayurveda options to strengthen her immune system.

As I flip through the Charak Samhita chapters, countless ways of living healthy life are discussed here. Rishi Charak has talked about Chyavanprash, the indomitable formula for stronger immune system. The good thing is that people of every age can take it. Needless to mention, it works the best and fastest in kids.

I asked my husband to bring Chyavanprash for the little stubborn lady. He argued that where would we find such ancient Ayurvedic stuff nowadays. But, I gave him ultimatum to don’t enter the house without bringing the Chyavanprash. *Benefits of being Beloved Wife*

He came delighted, holding a while cute container, imprinted Dabur Chyavanprash in it. Little princess was more excited to open it up. She loves the feeling when her father brings something from market. She is 100 percent sure that it’s for her. In fact, she sometimes takes her father’s shaving cream into custody.

The bottle looks cute. White body and red cap! It appears like a man with peer shaped face-cut and red hat.

My husband told me that it was easily available only he didn’t know about this product. He praised me for being a good researcher and caring mother. “The shopkeeper told me that it tastes best with milk” He said.

The struggle begins:

She eats Chyavanprash happily and takes it along with milk! This might sound as magic, but it’s actually a long battle that a mother finally won.

It was even tougher to make her eat Chyavanprash with milk. She didn’t like the taste very first day. She rejected to consume it and cried. No requests worked.

Then I planned to insert Chyavanprash in her daily fairy-tales. I punched the role of Chyavanprash here and there in the stories and soon she started getting fascinated with it. I told her how little kids become fairies. And, the secret to become fairies of course was consuming Chyavanprash with lukewarm milk.

I promised her that if she starts consuming it daily; soon beautiful wings will "spring up" on her back.

Curtsy-Google Images

Teeny Bloopers:

She has stepped into her teens and I am again paranoid. She will have new dreams, first and ongoing crushes, heartbreaks and a lot more to handle. But, luckily, she needs not to deal with pimples and all because she has eaten up enough of herbal and healthy stuff since childhood.

She often prefers to go out without carrying woolens this winter. I know she believes that she looks hot in her jeans and polo tee. She carries the jacket in hand but never puts it on. You cannot even talk of warm inners in front of her.

I know it’s the warm blood in her veins, which calls for a furious adolescence. I sometimes get paranoid that what if someone will break her heart! But I have to hold on the rage and let her experience her life in her own way. Though, I always talk to her about my views towards relationships and try to counsel her. She’s a well-mannered and well-versed girl, I know she’ll never do anything wrong to herself or someone else.

But, thank God! I was able to protect and strengthen her immune system since beginning so that I am at least not worried about she not wearing woolens in the foggy January month.

***

Reading all these chunks from my mom’s journal makes me thank Dabur Chyavanprash for not giving me wings but giving me freedom to stay healthy and immune. Still when me and mom sit together holding our spoonsful of Dabur Chyavanprash, I ask her “Where are my wings” and she smiles back, saying “Don’t you know my love, they are engraved at your back! But, they are not visible to all people, only selected ones, like me can see them.”

We laugh out loud together and say it often, together, “Milk tastes best with Chyavanprash”

Lately, when I brought mango flavored Dabur Chyavanprash, I speak, “Its yummy! Thank God I will not have to promise my kids ‘wings’ to make them eat” and my mom says, “Thank God! Chyavanprash is not only for kids; otherwise I would have regretted missing out these flavors”

Picture Curtsy-Indiblogger
To know more about product, visit-http://www.dabur.com/Products-Health%20Care-Chyawanprash

Interesting how health products presented by manufacturers, who are not our family members certainly become an inherent part of our families and lives.

 I thank Dabur Chyavanprash for keeping me and my family healthy. But, I would request the makers to turn my wings visible, so that I can get famous. 

PS: This post is written for Indiblogger's contest for bloggers, in association with Dabur-An Immune India

The Backyard

“Come HERE…Shhh… don’t make noise…”

“But where are we going…”

“In the backside of my house…”

“Nooo, its icy out there…”

“Don’t worry, my heart is on fire, so my hug will keep you warm”

“I hate it when you 'grin and wink' together”

“Ahh.. then you must love it when I 'kiss and cuddle' together”

“Arrgghh.. Stop being naughty”

“Your blushes seduce my naughty nerve fibers”

“You are mmm immm.. possible mmmm”

“And you are mild…mmm… & exotic… mmm & the perfect thing to be with in the backyard”

Lips entangled completely…. No scope for a single word to escape from our mouths.

“I love this place, its perfect place to kiss….because no one comes in the backyard” Your roaring husky voice breaks in the silence. I startle to put my finger on your lips and lower your tone.

The dread silence of night fears me. Your voice is lost… You are nowhere… I am stunned. I cannot figure out what’s happening and suddenly a wave of pain breaks my illusion. And, the difference between memories and reality is erased.

And now my deaden whisper breaks in the dreadful silence, “I love this place, it’s a perfect place to cry because no one comes in the backyard… Not even you.”

Escape

I often see her, transforming into someone else. The lady, who didn’t like changes, is now transforming. Is it for her good? Or her bad? Or life’s take. Every day she tries to be a better person, a better earner a careful individual and a lot more. She has a job to handle, a complicated side of life to deal with and of course the long sleepless nights and early morning wakeup fights.

She doesn’t check her blog often, finds out excuses to avoid writing on it. She doesn’t even read the archives of her own blog. Why? No time? Then where does her all time go? She isn’t married, has no kids to take care of and of course no friends to go out with.

Well, its tough to find out. She hits in office for 9 hours, doing something that doesn’t belong to her or sitting idle. Sometimes, she plans that how can she bring her life back on track. She tries to dig out around just to know that what makes her happy. But the threads of mind are too entangled to get answers so easily.

Bad experiences, betrayals and painful goodbyes, everything is deep buried. She knows that the answers lie there but she has no time to dig it. And, even if she digs it out, she knows that a betrayal is a betrayal by any means. And, the betrayer is always a betrayer, no second chance can help him/her to get out of this infection. So, she carefully chooses to escape all this and mend her mind towards cooking, watching some stupid TV shows and attending office, unwantedly.

I stand wondering while looking at her, Is life all about escape? 

"I Don't Want to Make Money.. I Just Want to be Wonderful"..Marilyn Monroe

Marilyn Monroe, the lady who held the charm that arrested attention of camera. It was said that the limelight and fame were addicted to her impeccable magnetism. She led a life that most of the people dream of but can never ever imagine to achieve it. Who could have ever though that the little baby girl born almost orphaned in a general hospital of Los Angles as Norma Jeane Mortensen Baker would become the most celebrated actress amongst all in each corner of this earth? But, it happened and in such a way that it was destined in miraculous manner. Marilyn was the fame-name, which the Hollywood industry offered her with and people apart from those who have read or watched about her rarely know about the original name she had.

She wasn’t born with a silver spoon in her mouth, yet she lived a life, which was glorious and full of luxury. She has an aura, which was hard to ignore for almost everyone. The life of Monroe wasn’t perfect like a fairy-tale as people loved her, hated her, appreciated her and disliked her too. But, what they could not do was ‘ignore her’. It was her inner charm, the ‘IT’ factor that she was born with and carried forward well, which couldn’t let people look beyond her when she was around. People were always interested in exploring more about her, some did it because they were huge fan of hers and other did because they were on the critics’ side. 

Monroe has such an alluring factor in her, which dragged everyone’s attention towards her. She had the most erotic smile placed on her lips so innocently, which looked no less than a magic. She was openhearted girl and she knew inside that she was a star. Despite of being born and brought up as an orphan in lower middle class conditions she believed it thoroughly that she was meant to shine like a gleaming crystal wide open up in the sky. And she shined, she still does. It is not only the stack of photo-rolls and video clips in which Marilyn exists, there are millions of hearts in this world, beyond the boundaries men have divided themselves, which love her, adore her, appreciate her and most importantly, they have kept her alive inside their hearts.

Many filmmakers, philosophers, writers and photographers have always been keen in searching the core of Marilyn’s charisma and the secret behind the undying charm she owned for lifetime and beyond that. Was it her lusciously polished body, her golden blonde hair locks, which is achieved by bleaching her original brunet hairs or was it style of talking, her acting, her confidence or anything, which is still a secret…? The mystery remains unsolved yet captivating enough to indulged people in the discussion seeming ceaseless.

The one thing, which she possessed and reflected through her each action was freedom. The lady of dreams owned such a powerful gemstone that most of the people keep looking for a lifetime yet die without experiencing its warmth. She did. She felt the warmth of being free and lived it to the extreme. She always believed to be free from anything that has been made by men, she didn’t believe in shackling herself with well-beaten thoughts and systems of society, fears or pain anymore. Everyone witnesses tough times in life and she did too. She had days, when she was left alone, she felt suffocated and her lonesomeness yelled at her at nights, she died to be accompanied and was so afraid to be alone, but she kept the freedom alive in her somewhere in such asphyxiating times too. She knew it inside that she was meant to be free and life was meant to have its thorns. That was the reason she always followed what her heart said and nurtured the Charisma inside her. As she would say “I Don’t want to make money, I just want to be wonderful” and she did that so beautifully. Her wonderfulness has no limits and gleams through ashes of time very well.

If not so then why would you be so indulged in reading about a lady who had left this world decades ago. She has lost a life but she hasn’t lost a charm that she earned and preserved well. It was the blissful X-factor that the successful model, outstanding actress and astounding singer had, which still blossoms through her memories. As I said earlier, each individual on this earth holds a hidden Charisma within, which is needed to be discovered, taken ahead and kept alive by nurturing with inner warmth of positivity and care, so did she. Monroe was Charismatic from within like all of us but the only difference was, she was a step ahead from people like us. She knew it that she had it and her efforts to carry this magnetism forward are worth appreciating and that may be the reason that world adores her, appreciates her and celebrates her.


Exclusive Video of Marilyn Monroe:

This one is for you…Bro

Finally my bro has a blogger account- Dig it Deeper. That makes the first week of New Year really special for me as I frantically wanted his presence on this platform because I knew that the world on the web needed his presence and the way he nurtures thoughts inside his brain, he deserved to be tagged as a blogger. He is intellectual, strong enough to dig out the root of any confusion and sincere enough to put it is simple words. 

Few people who glanced at his writings, complemented me that he writes like me, here I had to correct them, ‘no I write like him’. Its genetic, the thought system that I possess is in his account prior than me. He acquired it first from mum and dad. My writings are just a reflection of his. 

I desired greatly to read his blog and get the imprints of his write-ups on blog, after a long wait, finally he is here. He is greatly inspired by the inner force that drives him, that drives his notions and as I usually believe inspiration is always bigger than the creation. 

Bro I wish you an enlightening journey with the leading light of your inspiration, May you light up your life by illuminating the paths of others with the shiny realms of your ideas.

Cheers, Bro, the intensity of your ideas justifies the title Dig it Deeper.

Lots of Love

The Only Way Out

Everyday I wake up, turn back and look at the most charming face in this world, you lying next to me, holding my waist with gentle cuddle while sleeping. All I can think of is the fact that we have traveled miles together and I know this is an endless journey, beyond death, we have to walk together. The freedom of being alive that I have discovered in you is the shining pearl of happiness, which always adores my eyes with its glowing presence.

I remember our one of the several ‘over the coffee conversations’, where you and I would experience the “surrender-situation”, chained with charm of love and nothing was more beautiful than that. That warm sip of coffee in the cold evening and our charismatic togetherness.

“So what are your plans?” you began with a naughty smile…

“My plans? Regarding?” I replied, pretending to have missed your signals.

“I know that you know what I am saying” so swiftly you eliminated the distance between your lips n my ears. Whispering was enough to make me hear and entrap me in the magic of your magnetism.

Biting my lover lip to hold the sensations was the only possible remedy I could afford at that time. And I don’t remember when you put your warm palm on my cold, frozen left cheek, but I remember melting of my each heartbeat. Sipping coffee was not a good idea in that intoxicating moment.

The coffee kept waiting, the chillness of that cold winter night had almost frozen it, but we were still warm enough into each other’s arms. Those smooth temperate cuddles defeated the cold outside, couldn’t remember when we shifted to one chair. All I remember is, we both madly kissing, hugging, smiling and caressing one another.

“Lock me in your heart, forever. Treasure me … never let me go…” I had a lot more to whisper but your gentle finger on my lips interrupted me sweetly.

“shhhh.. Baby, I can’t lock you in here, I can’t close the doors as it is the only way out..” you were so intense.

“Who wants to go out?” I argued, “You want me to leave?” my voice trembled.

“I can never ever let you go; neither can I lock you inside…I just want you to be happy.” You made it very clear. Your words were firm enough to drive me insane.

“I don’t want to lose you at any cost, you understand, I will lock myself inside your heart and I will never ever open this door, no one can enter in here but me….Only me”.. I busted into tears.

“Honey, honey, Baby….please don’t cry.. Please ….” You were out of your senses now, the only thing you never wanted to let happen, my tears, crossing the boundaries of my eyelashes.

“No No No…  I know you want your heart to keep open for other bitches, so that they can hunt over you and come here intruding in my peace? Am I not the one you always dreamt of, tell me if I am not….are you still looking for someone better than me…” I had become a disaster till that moment.

“Honey I was just being practical… nothing else, my kiddo please don’t cry” and then you kissed my forehead. “you little disaster, you are my everything, I just want you to be free, want you to be real and I can never see my little heartbeat getting suffocated inside a locked heart.” You kissed me again.

“I love you” I opted for the only reasonable thing that fits in every conversation of two of us.

“Love never sets up boundaries, my heart is all yours and no bitch or dog or whatever can even enter without your permission, I just want you to set free, my open heart, that allows you to venture out whenever you wish to and to surround you with love whenever you’re tired.”

“I love you, I had lost my mind…I’m”

“shhh even me too seem to have lost my mind in love…come here lets lose minds and m make love…” ahh you always interrupt me with your sugar coated talks.

“I lov..mmm… you..mmmmmmmm” oops you kiss, at least you could have waited until I complete these three words. Hmmm

The sound of my sobs brings me back to the bed from the olden beautiful memories and you from the dreamless sound sleep. You look at me with affection and concern.

“kiddo… what happened…baby te…mmmmmm” aah you have taught me to interrupt like you in these twenty years.

After a long smooth good morning kiss I speak smoothly “I am not crying baby, just returned back from a beautiful trip, walked back a few steps and now I am back.. from the only way in and out… your heart and my world.”

I know I had uttered enough words for you to lock my lips. We immingle our breaths amalgamating our lips. The kiss lasts longer. It has the essence of our first kiss, actually every single kiss that we had enjoyed prior than that.

I love you my love. Thanks for never letting me feel suffocated.

strands of love

The way we are behaving now, it is going to lead us to darkness. The conflict that is striving to make its place in our relationship can be resolved though, but what is going to trouble is the imprints of this conflict on our heart, in our minds and the shadows of these quarrels in our behavior.

I don’t know what makes you think beyond my love for you and what makes me feel sick about your actions, knowingly that we both love each other and this love is eternal. But we are making sin with this undying love and the beautiful everlasting feeling is being buried under the dust of our baseless discussions for few impassible desires.

The bond we two share is afar our existence and this is what we have got as the most kindness side of life. The way this beautiful, mild and divine love happened in our lives, we experienced the amazement of being in trans. But soon, the other things got superior and we started ruining it.

Your heartlessness and my silence are killing the beauty of our attachment, even of we resolve it with discussions, the pain is going to grew denser. Love, lets take a walk back to the place, where we started. Let’s start all over again to make it last forever and nurturing it with our each blood drop, lets relive the promise and lets walk back!

I know this note will reach to you, as the knots we have tied from heart to heart are not too frail to split with the strain that our behavior causes. The strands of love have united us together; let’s fall into the everlasting cuddles and let the strands wrap us completely.