Saturday, November 8, 2014

Layers of Adipose


We had an argument. U and I have innumerable, long and ceaseless fights.

After one such squabble,U said "Let's break up". 
Saying this was simple and uncomplicated for him. It occurred so. I, a mere victim of U's actions was thrown with no choice.

I, then said

"Hey U, Are you really sure about this?"
U Look ! I am not worried about myself rather it is the other way.

U and I have known each other for earthly 5 years.

When the clock moved to the phase " what next ", U said  "I am not really keen to go ahead".

Apparently, the only reason U could quote is Extra fat deposits under my skin. Yes, I do have few thick layers of adipose. Actually not much, but quite noticeable.

Have you realized this after freaking 5 years?

"Chubby cheeks, fairy skin, tiny nose" was what you have been saying all the those early mornings I woke up beside you.

I had built a virtual home with you. Shopping with your family, dining with you and what not. There are no boundaries for imagination.

I have been too considerate with you I guess.
Okay, Let me come to the point.

Apart from the CV, what is that I can look for in you.

Height: Nah, You may be tall of the average tallest. Your 6 and my 5.3 are even and odd.
Weight: At times, height nullifies weight. However, your protruding belly, off shape shoulders cannot go unnoticed.
Complexion: I can't even say dusky (Nothing against racism).
Features: Well sorry to say, but not great. Tiny eyes, huge nose and strands of rough hair.
Food: Do you really know how a chocolate brownie tastes or a custard apple,a mango, an olive or mayonnaise. It is either chicken or egg in your menu always.
Habits: Though I am a modern girl with a broad mind and do not mind a glass of wine or whiskey, I am strictly against alcoholism. Can anyone bear a chain smoker and an alcoholic all through the life.? I bet on it.
Family: No comments.But, Certainly not a happy and peaceful environment.
Promise: Oh.. my love, Is this part of your dictionary?
Savings : None. You owe me money in 5 digits. Recall!
Assets: I don't care if you are legally entitled for some. Surely, they are not earned by you.
Interests: Perhaps it would be "Women". Although it is said that all men are dogs, it is utterly difficult to stand when you go behind these women with sexy figures.
EQ: Wasn't I counseling you last week at late night. It was never the other way round. My handset would never choose your number when I need moral support.

No hurry..I am coming to that point..

It was always the food U liked was ordered. Chicken or Cheese Pizza
It was always the music U liked that was played
It was always U's favorite restaurant visited
It was always the beach U chose for vacation
It was always the Black backless skintight mini dress I wore on U's request
It was always the loose hair I choose,as per U's wish.

You may argue you never said that..But you have politely imposed on me by uttering a irritable number of times.

What else?

Love : Truly, this has what that made me ignore the facts and the face.
Sex: This was part of the big game Love and sub game attraction.

And this is what it takes to choose not to be Mrs. U.

Greeting: Good Luck! My would be Ex- Bf and his unlucky lean would be Gf.
An Advice: That unlucky slender would be Gf, don't go by the words that please and faces that smile. Tomorrow, U might say he doesn't like bony, thin and slim figures. Beware !!!






Disclaimer: This work is purely fictional and doesn't resemble anyone's life living and dead.

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Game of Blogs - Midway through the heart


Team : Qissa

Read the previous part of story here


Costly Realization

Neon Lights rapidly altered in nano seconds dancing rhythmically in sync with the loud music being played in the background. The smoke from the cigar had propagated in the surroundings. Gorgeous girls were seen in sexy outfits, high stilettos, smelling amazingly seductive. The so called gentlemen moved behind these stunning beauties like honey bees around the beautiful flowers. The bar tenders were explicitly trained to move their hands swiftly to make the demanded drinks. Platters of mouthwatering starters in vegetarian and non-vegetarian were served on the tables. The heavy metal rock music made everyone over there tap their feet. People were lost in the bliss of the music ignoring the oozing of champagne, smoky blistering sizzlers served. The newly opened Lounge at Colaba grabbed the attention of the Mumbai’s Party crowd. This hot and happening bar attracted all sects of junta with its exclusive discounts and heartwarming gestures.
Shekhar occupied the table with two seats at the right hand corner of the bar. Distressed, he chose not to bother any of his friends or family. In spite of his utmost endeavors, the heart wrenching scene of his wedding anniversary often flashed in front of his eyes. He muttered “Who says that memories fade away”? Very soon the 250 ml of whisky brought out the voice of Shekhar. With a heavy heart he uttered,
Har Khushi Ke Pahlu Haaton Se Chhut Gaye,                                                                                     Ab Toh Khud Ke Saaye Bhi Rooth Gaye.
Haalat Hai Aise .........Haalat Hai Aise..” He recited the last line thrice..Urgh..!! He was unable to recollect the next line.
Haalat Hai Aise, Zindagi Mein Hamari,                                                                                         Pyar Ki Raahon Mein Hum Bilkul Toot Gaye” Shekhar heard a voice from behind.
Their eyes met exchanging courteous smiles. “Thank you sir” said Shekhar.
“My pleasure” came the prompt reply.
“Had you not helped me, this would have killed me the whole night. I blame my blurring memory. You seemed have come alone. Why don’t you join me” asked Shekhar. 

“Hmm..Why not! By the way I am Nikhil, Nikhil Ranade” Nikhil shrieked in the noisy setup.
“Hi, I am Shekhar. Nice meeting you”.

They said cheers raising the saturated glasses. Their conversation lasted until midnight hovering over poetry, books, science, fiction, politics and economies. They gave a damn to the banging glasses, raising voices, empty tables. It seemed as if both have known each other well in a very short span of time. Two strangers became good friends. Few glasses of alcohol, several words, and numerous smiles opened their hearts out.
“So, how about family? Are you married?” asked Nikhil.

This remark brought back painful memories. Shekhar replied in monosyllabic “Yes. My little princess is 9 years old” showing signs of discomfort. He quickly jumped and took over the conversation before Nikhil could start digging for more of his family details.
“What about you Nikhil?”
“Well...It’s a long story bro. “Sometimes you end up burning your hands before you realize”. It took some time for me to understand that I was with a wrong girl. But, yes I think I have found my soul mate. Wish I could settle down with her and have a beautiful family like yours” uttered Nikhil. “How lucky she is to have a person like you in her life” Shekhar said. 
“She is absolutely amazing. Beautiful and bold is an epitome of love. I admire her fragile skin, curly tresses, milky skin and that beautiful heart beneath the skin. There isn’t any reason to not love her. It is her passionate, zealous attitude in life that attracted me the most. But, God is not fair all the times. She is into an unhappy marriage. I am ardently waiting for the platinum day of life. The day she accepts my proposal and says “I do”, the day I get an opportunity to give her the beautiful diamond ring that I secretly bought for her. “Tara.. Tara Dutta” the love of my life.
Shekhar went numb hearing Tara’s name. He felt he had just seen a bad dream. Bang! Bang!!The sound of the broken glasses made him trust that he had heard right. It was Tara.
Words didn't cross his lips. He left the place with watering eyes without uttering a word. He now understood from where Tara’s expensive gifts were coming from. The picture was clear with all dots connected now. Tara’s late night parties, countless messages were for Nikhil. He walked down the road with a heavy heart and painful memories. Small world! Isn’t it?


Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.


 Read the next part of the story here

Sunday, September 21, 2014

Book Review - Private India



Book: Private India

Author:  Ashwin Sanghi & James Patterson

Publisher: Arrow Books

Category: Suspense Thriller

Pages: 448

Out of high expectations from the author, I have applied for the review of “Private India”.  It was an ecstatic moment to see the book signed by the author. Thanks to Blogadda! . Yipee..!!! I said and flipped the pages.

The book is divided into two parts. Although first few chapters failed to grab my attention, the second part could make me read the book without putting it down.

The play begins with the chain of murders happening in the city of dreams, Mumbai.  Santosh Wagh, the main protagonist heads a detective agency “Private” branch in India. His team members Mubeen, Nisha and Hari are well trained and highly intelligent. Rupesh, the corrupted police officer requests Santosh Wagh to take up the case and crack the murder mysteries.

The serial killer slays the victims by means strangulation, leaving yellow scarf at the scene. The detective Santosh discovers that the executioner is against women hood and pattern of crime scene resembles the nine incarnations of Goddess Durga. Personal revenge is the reason behind all the killings.  

Jack, head of Private worldwide enters the story but his contribution to solve the mystery is insignificant. Santosh is an alcohol addict and suffers from the mental trauma blaming himself for an accident that killed his wife and son. Nisha is a beautiful, bold detective married to a rich stockbroker with a kid. Mubeen is highly intelligent tech savvy officer. Hari Padhi, a forensic expert joins hands with the murderer and is responsible for season murders. Abdul Zafar is a trained government doctor and a forensic postmortem expert turns to be a terrorist and plots a bomb in Private India office located in Colaba.           

Drugs, mafia, prostitution, bomb blasts, child abduction, begging and all sorts of illegal activities are referred in story. Took many things didn’t cook the story well. South Mumbai is truly explored in the book. Finally, post eight killings the assassin is revealed to the readers. Climax failed to answer motives of couple of murders. The story ended abruptly without a take away. Story was unsuccessful in connecting the dots. The last 20 pages didn’t create any enthusiasm to go ahead and complete the book. 

Few unanswered questions: Why would South Asia’s well settled surgeon blackmail Ms. Aditi Chopra aka Mr. Aakash for money? An officer or forensic expert (Hari) is hired without validating his background? How is it justified that an intelligent officer like Santosh didn’t find out about Mr. Hari? How did Ms. Aditi Chopra aka Aakash meet Hari Padhi?.  There is no explanation given on Priyanka Talati’s Thailand Visit?.  How ridiculous is that Private India’s office in Colaba, highly advanced couldn’t detect the Gunny bags with RDX and Bomb?

The story is fast paced, mini chapters of 2-3 pages with simple and lucid language. The editing could have been better. On the whole, this seemed to be a Bollywood masala style with many characters, twists and some drama. Unfortunately, this book neither left an impact on me nor satisfaction. The orientation of mythology tells where Ashwin Sanghi has contributed, yet this is not a typical classic Ashwin Sanghi type of book. Although not a kind of book that can be placed on the shelf for ages and centuries, can be flipped once.

Rating: 3/5


This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com. Participate now to get free books!

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Game of Blogs - Midway through the heart



Team : Qissa

Read the previous part of the story here

Lonely Star

Tara headed towards her office after having a cup of green tea and cheese toast. While her office was just a furlong distance from home, it consumed around an hour to reach one way every day.  She propelled her car into the short lane next to the signal avoiding the piled up traffic. Little did she know that she was taking the wrong road.

She impatiently muttered “ Urgh..what the hell is happening? Why is this bloody traffic moving at snail’s pace? Oh..God..I don’t want to look like a careless dumbo in front of the foreign delegates. All because of Shekhar and his senseless arguments early in the morning.”

Tara was a career-oriented woman and wished desperately to shine in her line of work.

“You were born to win, but to be a winner; you must plan to win, prepare to win and expect to win” she constantly told herself.

She had spent a lot of energy and hard work to reach the current position. She was now leading a young team of media planners. It was certainly true that she was always the limelight of the innumerable presentations. She enjoyed the attention she received from heads of various organizations. Clever and intelligent that she was, she was adept at grasping the impressions, and utilizing them in climbing the ladder in her professional life. The never compromising and perfect attitude of hers crafted her as the competent, confident and credible woman at work.

As she was busy faulting Shekhar in her mind, she heard a scary thunderous horn from the lorry driver behind signaling her to move ahead.

Finally, the moving traffic made her feel better. Tara raised the speed of her car and vanished at rocket speed.

Parking her second hand Black Honda city she drifted to the nearby escalator. Before budging to the conference room, she quickly sneaked into the washroom to make sure she looked her best. Tara was well known amongst her colleagues for her perfection in everything. Be it project, presentation or appearance, she would make sure to be impeccable. Tara picked clothes, accessories and cosmetics which looked as if they were customized for her. Never in her life had she chosen something without proper judgment and she always took pride in her choice. Shekhar was of course, an exception!

Tara had always strived to dress in crisp, sharp and formal attire. For the meeting today she had worn a well-tailored black knee length skirt with a cream shirt with self-printed floral design on it.  The black blazer she carried was elegant, smart and complemented her dress. She chose to wear black pointed stilettos which went hand in hand with her perfect dress.  With her perfectly manicured fingers, she began to touch up her face.

“Eye makeup has to be significant. One can command and convince the other side of the table with one’s magical eyes” she told herself. She took a black mascara and slowly rolled it on her eyelashes. She used a peacock blue liner and brushed it along the beautiful arc stretch of her eyes. She then pulled out the crimson red cherry flavor gloss on her thin, delicate lips. They really looked kissable! Combing her dyed straightened hair she glanced at the nail polish on her fingers. Quickly she sprayed herself with her favorite perfume “Victoria Secret” that Nikhil had bought for her during his US trip. Finally, with a bold, confident look she made a move to the conference room.

Sometime during mid-day, Tara’s handset beeped with a message “Hey Pretty Woman! Would you mind having a cup of coffee with me?” Her blush was evident on her face after reading the message. She rushed to the cafeteria to meet Nik.. Nikhil Ranade, her best friend in recent times.

Nikhil and Tara had known each other since the day Nikhil had joined Tara’s organization. While Tara headed Media Planning, Nikhil headed Marketing. Their professional relationship gradually blossomed into friendship. Dreams, desires, hopes, ambitions, problems-there weren’t anything left out to be shared. Nikhil’s dynamic personality and intelligence at work place made many women in the office go weak in the knees. Tara too, was one of them.


*****************************


 “What is bothering you Tara? Look at you..Where have you lost your precious smile?” he asked holding her hands in his.

“Nothing Nik..” she said hesitatingly.

“Come on...you think I am not your best friend? Why can’t you just be cool with me?” Nikhil muttered.

“It’s just that Shekhar and I had a terrible argument yet again.  I just cannot bear to see my little one Roohi rebelling against me. There must be some way out of this?”

“Forget about it. Have you given a thought about me? What have you decided? Please think at least now before it is too late. I will catch you at the party tonight” Saying this Nikhil left but not before kissing Tara on her hands.

 Tara nodded her head throwing a reluctant smile at Nikhil and thought, Nikhil’s gifts, his care, his attitude, his income, his success, is seamless. Shekhar has not turned out to be a man I actually longed for. I only asked for an understanding and well settled husband in life with a cute little daughter and lovely home. Who said “Life is lovely and beautiful?This man has made it impossible for me.

If not for Roohi she would have divorced Shekhar a long time ago. At times, the existence of Roohi left her in frustration. Partially she felt that Roohi had cut her wings. But then, Roohi was her only solace whenever she found living with Shekhar unbearable…..


Me and my team are participating in ‘Game Of Blogs’ at BlogAdda.com. #CelebrateBlogging with us.


Read the next part of the story here

Sunday, August 31, 2014

Home ! Sweet Home !



“Man builds bricks to make a house
Members build love to make it a home”.


This is the lovely place in the world where I have wept, fought, smiled, giggled and shared happiness.
This place has seen me nurture, grow and rise.

I belong to a lower middle class family. My family has undergone turmoil, chaos, instability and happiness in due course of time. I witnessed up’s and downs in health, wealth and prosperity. However, havoc being on the higher side had an impact on us emotionally and financially.

We have been living in many houses since my childhood. In the last twenty one years we have lived in eight houses. Our memories rest in the every hook and nook of those homes. Nevertheless, we have never left them as houses; we have made them our homes.

“Time flies. After every dark, there is a shine”.

Finally, the day has come. My brother and I have grown to study in best colleges and are working for the reputed organizations. We have made our own house. Each brick called memory is cemented with a tar called love. It took us away three fourth of our salary, one fourth of our time but still we are happy and contented when glance at it. Ours dream has come true. This dream we have dreamt for years.

I being a lover of ethinic arts want to decorate and fill my home with a royal look. The one which makes us feel like being loved, welcomed and majestic. Knowing my artistic skills, the interior designing part has been put on my shoulders. I keenly observed variety range of wall frames, decorative items and antique pieces. I have finally freezed on few articles from http://www.makemyhome.com/







Lord Ganesha is widely revered as the remover of obstacles. As the god of beginnings, he is honoured at the start of rituals and ceremonies. I chose “Aapno Rajasthan Ganapati Kalash and Diya Wood and Clay Wall Decor”. http://www.makemyhome.com/bestofhomedecor/aapno-rajasthan-ganapati-kalash-and-diya-wood-and-clay-wall-decor.html






Vakra-Tunndda Maha-Kaaya Surya-Kotti Samaprabha

Nirvighnam Kuru Me Deva Sarva-Kaaryessu Sarvadaa.

This wall piece is with kalash and diya representing the auspicious and fortune. This is exactly the one which I have been looking for. I am going to hang this on the wall right on the top of main door. This symbolizes that God Ganesha will bring prosperity to our home filtering the bad omens.






The next item which I have picked is “Aapno Rajasthan Miniature Floral Vases with Warli Paint in (Set of 3 )”. http://www.makemyhome.com/bestofhomedecor/aapno-rajasthan-miniature-floral-vases-with-warli-paint-in-set-of-3.html





Fresh flowers bring happiness and joy in our lives. The freshness in nature elevates hope, optimism and love. These beautiful handmade terracotta flower vase are eco friendly. The miniature warli painted flower vase represents our values, tradition and Indian pattern. I being a hard core admirer of art, simply loved the way the colours are used in this painting.

The larger vase of the set is going to be set in the corner of the hall on a glass corner table. This would be just beside the glass window. There is another reason for choosing this particular vase out of all the collection. The curtains which we have put on is of red and off-white colour . The flower vase and the curtain go hand in hand with the pista green wall. This is a perfect match to our hall. The beautiful flowers from my garden will add more vibrancy to the room.







I will place the middle sized vase in the living room just beside my book self. It adds royal look when I place on a wooden stand. This room is furnished with dark brown cup boards, book shelf and wooden table.






The smaller one will be placed on the self in between the crockery set. I just wish to leave this floral vase in between our exquisite collection of crockery as an antique piece. This entire wall is bright, shining and is as beautiful as an art exhibition.




Also, there is a deep sense of satisfaction in my heart picking this handmade terracotta floral vase. Am I not helping those set of great artists who are making their livelihood from these excellent works?

The last item which I chose is "Design O Vista Three Panel Painting Clock-86" http://www.makemyhome.com/bestofhomedecor/design-o-vista-three-panel-painting-clock-86.html





Often we see wall clocks hanging on the walls of the house undying for ages. Generations come and go, people change but clocks have their own space on the walls just like the sun in the sky. I have chosen this canvas painted three panel wall clock which gives contemporary and classy look. Fusion of ethnic and contemporary style symbolizes the modern approach to the ethnic lifestyle. This clock is going to capture those moments of happiness and gloom. This one will store the memories for a life time. Time flies and this clock remind everyone of the cyclical emotions in a man’s life. No emotion is constant. Everything has to be dynamic in this Universe. Sometimes laughter, sometimes angry, at times agony and amusement. This painting is bright with yellow tulips looking at the sky. Doesn’t these flowers influence us to rise at sunrise, aim high and spread happiness?.

My home is perfect example of “Orthodox approach to a modern living”. This is my beautiful home filled with true emotions. This home is yet to watch many celebrations. My wedding, my brother’s successful career, Papa retirement, fun filled moments, welcoming the new family members and many more in years to come. So, I chose the best to keep my home alive and awesome for a lifetime.

This post is a part of Makemyhome activity at BlogAdda.com

Unposted Card

“Hello Shreya, my old friend..!!

You are gifted with eternal inner  beauty
You are the one who understood my moods
You are the one who completed my sentences
You are one who know my secrets and every crush.
You are that miracle who held my hand to come out of bad dreams
You have raised my hope and you are a reason to smile.
You are that dearest friend who was always there in good and bad times.
You have always completed that bit by becoming god gifted ever understanding sister.
The world will become more beautiful if God creates more people like you.
I wish you the best to happen to you the days ahead….I pray god for your endless happiness
To the Lively personality J, consoling heart, insane soul and sexy biatch :P

Many Many Happy returns of the day"




Before this card reached you, you have left this world trying to save me and few other friends when the forceful River Beas hit us.

The last photograph which we clicked before this tragedy hit our lives is still safe to remind me of you till my last breath.

The powerful river Beas has taken you away with its flow, yet I pray that your soul rest like the still waters of Ganges.


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

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Monsoon




You are one whom I have been waiting for
You are one who brings smile and happiness
You are the one whom I want to dance with
You are the one whom I want to embrace forever
You are one who spreads life
You are one who completes my life
You are one whom I am totally in love with
first rains of the season
Monsoon ! welcome again !!


Sunday, August 24, 2014

The day I left my flute





Being born in an orthodox Iyer family exposed me to classical music since my birth.  Music has flourished in my family since unknown years. My great grandfather was an icon and an inspiration to many during his days. I have grown up seeing people waiting in our veranda to hear his voice. The town hall was never empty when he performed.  That is respect the whole town carried for him. People always took pride in listening to “ Shri P. Subramanyam Iyer”.

There has been too much expectation from my family when I was born. Especially, when you are named after your great grandfather, people expect you to behave like him, perform like him and inculcate his qualities. I was always kept under pressure. You know the way I walk, talk, read, smile ..etc every detail and every minute of my life was under constant observation. The most annoying part was to wake up at 4.00 am to take shower in the cold chilled water and do sadhana (Practice). Reasons like these made me develop a strong dislike towards the music.

I was 20 when I cleared matriculation. I had the dream to visit big cities and travel all around. I have always explored new techniques and methods to move away from my town. Finally, the day has arrived which I have been looking for. I received a telegram saying that I have been selected as a Head clerk in Govt department based on the merit score. That was the happiest day of my life.

I was extremely excited to hear the great news. I distributed laddu’s to the entire town. Soon, the day has arrived, when I had to leave my town to join the Job. I packed my bag with four pairs of pure white cotton pants and half sleeves shirts.  Two jars full of homemade snacks were given by mother. My ticket was ready for the 2 pm train. I rushed to the nearby Shiva temple to offer prayers. Soon, I realized that I was getting late and hurried to the railway station.

All the way on the Jutka, I was uncomfortable. I rechecked my bag to make sure that nothing is missed out. My ticket, certificates, clothes, money, snacks, mango pickle everything was in order. My mind was wandering like a lost object in the universe. It was moving in the infinite space to the unknown destination. When Jutka reached lane of railway station, I realized that I forgot the flute gifted by my grandfather on my 10th birthday.

I asked the Jutka driver to drive back to my home. I ran to the store room and opened the trunk box. Somewhere in between the old clothes I saw the glittering flute. All through the while, I thought I am detached to music but music is in blood and in every cell of my body. 



That was the day I left my flute and I missed my train.

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



Sunday, August 17, 2014

Fly to the sky


Out of the world, I say
To the thousands of gods, I pray
The unsaid secret I held to heart
That soaked in my body every part

Since child I have dreamt
Several nights I have spent
I tell you what I under went
Here is my attempt

Ssh..  Keep it a secret
Here are chocolates full basket
Never repeat often frequent
I trust you extremely blunt

All that I have been dreaming
And that I wasn’t speaking
Look ! my heart is beating
And hands are freezing

Wish that I always wished
And never aborted
Sooner than it is missed
I say before you are pissed

Please drop ears carefully
Because I utter fervently,
and render dramatically
I dreamt all my life honestly 

I want to fly fly fly
To the blue sky sky sky
  

Sunday, April 27, 2014

I



Am I an extraordinary writer?

Am I a marvelous painter?

Am I an amazing singer?

Am I an incredible cook?

Am I a dazzling beauty?

Am I a mind blowing speaker?

Am I am remarkable student?

Am I an intelligent human?


What am I?


I am more than what an eye perceives....

That’s me... That’s my vibe.....

 

life



Amidst the crowd,

He walked between the sun sets and new dawns

Through the rough, tough interesting roads

To explore the unfamiliar, mysterious, nameless feelings

Only to know he ran a race, just like many, along the same road


Tuesday, January 14, 2014

My Dear Amma




Dear Amma,

It really feels awkward  writing this to you. But, I know there are many unspoken words between you and me. Sometimes it is very essential to convey what you feel about your loved ones. These words communicate the love and respect I carry for you.

I genuinely don’t know where to start with. Until few years back I always saw you as a simple, undemanding not well educated housewife devoted to the kitchen. Incidents happened over the past few years completely changed our lives. Those unpleasant occurrences made us strong and intrepid.  You played a major role in facing the every challenge that fate fling on us.  It is because of you Amma that I stood where I always wished to be.

Remember that day Amma.... after my graduation, there was huge discussion between me and Papa on my further studies. You know how stubborn Daddy is when it comes to his plans about my studies. In spite of everything, you went against him and gave me few thousands from your hard earned savings for my coaching classes. Had you not encouraged me that day, I would have not been able to accomplish anything.

It is always astonishing to me when I see you working throughout the day without a single catnap. All the tasks you take up are completed with such a perfection that I can never ever imagine in my life. Right from the day you wake up at 5.00 AM till 10.PM your passion to make everything flawless be it cleaning, knitting and cooking is inspiring. How can you carry that sweet smile on your face all the time?. May be that is the reason you have so many friends who truly stand by you at any point in life. I always question myself when I see your hard work and dedication. Right from being fit to business, the tremendous amount of enthusiasm you put into every work makes me feel inferior at times. 

What can I say about that your cooking. Your recipes have not only flowed in our town but have to the big cities along with me and brother. People go crazy when they eat your mango pickle and homemade snacks. It makes feel proud when I hear such great compliments from my friends and colleagues.

It is because of you I came to this big city, made my living and have turned out to be independent, determined and confident women. It is you who has stood by me to do what I always felt like. Be it painting, singing and now writing. Often people appreciate me for my art works. It is not my creativity.. Amma.. it is the greatness of your genes in me. I will never forget the days you had to search all you purse to give my music class fees. Papa being an orthodox never encouraged me to wear western outfits, listen to hip hop and behave bold. You played an immense role in convincing him, that wearing western outfits or listening to hip hop cannot spoil your child and ruin you upbringing. 

I always see radiance in your face when I look at you. There is some magic in your red vermillion and cotton sari which makes you look graceful, elegant and vivid.  Amma... you never kept your sorrows in front of everyone. You have hidden your tears under your eyelids and sustained tranquility. You gave brother, Papa and me that power and force to fight against all odds. You never gave a chance to extended family and society to point at us at any point of time.  My eyes never stop shedding tears when I hear about the circumstances you have gone through right from childhood financially, emotionally and physically.

When I look at the years gone by and the way you have transformed me, I feel proud to have a mother like you. I never realized that my day is not complete without a chat with you. I go mad the day, I don’t hear your voice. Had those unfortunate events not happened in our lives, I would never know your greatness. May be that is the reason people say “Everything happens for the good”. The best is yet to come.. .. It is just the matter of time...Amma...  I never told you this..... you are my best friend and soul mate. You have been caring, affectionate and understanding. You have sacrificed your time, health, happiness and joy for our well being.

Amma....I am nothing without you .
I play, I grow, I soar, I rise all because of you.  

If ever God asks me one thing I would like to carry forward in my next lives (I being strong believer of Karma philosophy), my prompt reply would be "you as my mother" till eternity.

 Today, writing this I miss sleeping on your lap, your food and heart warmth hug. 
 Love you loads Amma..forever and forever.