Periodic Tales

Someday I want to right on how bad it gets during periods post pregnancy. The phase embarks upon how well you have been eating all those years and resting. Hair falls like it always hated you and pain or numbness rules the pelvic mound.

You realize you were never in race. And the peace of stillness is most desirable.

Even if I look for the most painful words to define how it feels. They fail. It zeroes down to nothing. Understanding its movement doesn’t seem less then meditation.

Let’s go stone for a moment, wonderous is happening. May be something is sitting inside clearing and carving a new home for a new life.

Budapest winters

I have to pen this down, before it goes away.

The snow the, the chill, the dryness.

The winter is looking for its way out. It will be off soon without a trace. Seems like it’s the cleverest of all seasons. Nothing remains of it. Unlike Summer and  Rains….which always leave some life behind. Winter will vanish like it never was … Cruel love.

I reckon, trees had shed all their greens. Many braved and even gave away their skin. With open arms, barest of bare they waited for the snow to fall.

Was it love?

May be an act of bravery. Like the trees stood in a symphonic melancholy and assembled to take the cruel.

Like they sang out allowed ‘show us how cruel can you be……… Show us..’

And unlike us when the spring arrives, the trees won’t crib of harsh snow….but boast of how they survived. Gentle life will spring and so will new tales of flowers.

There is so much to learn from a tree. They are very very quite teachers.

The missing kids

It really feels sad sharing pic of kids gone missing. It’s so frequent, it can’t be blamed to parent’s alone. Kids vanish like magic, fly away like birds, turn around the pillars, in the crowds sometimes parents just turn their heads and kids are gone. My heart cries out to them. As I clutch my kids hand in public , my eyes screw on her when i free her…. She has be on her own one day… I panic infinitely when I don’t see her.
The world has really become big, and as a parent we can now identify the loopholes.

-Please don’t walk between a child and parent. Strangers help strangers. So please help. Don’t touch others kids however cute he is. You don’t want others to touch your kids. Don’t give chocolates to any, even relatives should not, without asking the mother or father. Let the child understand he can’t have a chocolate without parent’s consent.( There should have been a law laid out on this). I fail to understand, even educated us cannot get this. We have so many relatives hanging around, ready to feel bad all the time. Please understand, we have to do this to ensure child’s safety. I met one old couple in train, very stubborn to give my kid a chocolate. I had to be stern and rude. They thought I don’t have manners as I am not submitting to their demands. Please make grandparents understand, their world where everyone new the other is not the case now. Parents have to travel places. Kids are surrounded with strangers. Let them develop the talent of following what their parents tell.

-Don’t touch others kids, in anyways. You will never need to bother about teaching them what is a bad touch. Coz if a kid has only been touched by his parents and in the right way, he doesn’t need to be told about a bad touch. He already knows it. Kids are purest of souls. They are energy sensitive creatures like other animals. They know when something is wrong, just like that. If they say no. Please listen. You keep wearing them clothes, feeding them, doing things when they say….. No mumma. You are teaching them no means yes, do it, and we later make a movie saying “when a girl says no, it means a boy has to stop”. Please!

-Let the child sleep, let the parents sleep. I read somewhere, ” in Delhi a kid was stolen from next to a mother sleeping by the road.” Dear, the lady was a worker, working hard, without rest during the day. How could she be vigilant at night. These people don’t even have day cares or helpers like we have. Still they travel to remote places for work. They have to let their kids play around in the safety of strangers. I reckon the women folk in our town would bring kids with them and we wouldplay on the sand. It dznot happen now. Sun has been cruel on us, it has helped us differentiate between rich and poor….you can’t deny.

-Now we have networked water to our homes and societies so well that these people have no natural water supply left for them… not to bath or drink. We have taken many things without knowing. We as self contained families, societies or middle-class or rich folks have gaped ourselves enough from cobblers, sanitary cleaners, small workers. How can we imagine turning to them for our help? Still we find instances of public and strangers helping on roads. This is a proven fact, however many contacts we make or friends we have, we stand alone in difficult situations, and strangers come to help. (I know it’s long but….)

-Please open your eyes to the world culture. In many developing countries Kids under 5 sleep by 8. Parents come home by 5/6/7pm. Parents have their Saturday and Sundays off with kids. What are we competing against. Kids are mostly with their parents after school. Some Mothers do work, but unlike here where she is trying to catch up career after motherhood, she works from home or takes breaks or just stays at home. (And this ‘she’ is also a maid. If by chance a day comes when every individual is educated, there will b no maids or toilet cleaners). She dznot have to worry for the towel lying on the bed. She dznot worry about liberation. She z liberated enough to decide that ‘She dznot want to work’. But when she dz, father has to share the responsibility. Fathers take father’s leave and look after the kids. As individuals we see mothers working in other lands, standing on the same platform as men. Feels good. But please look, she is there with either a family/husband/govt support. And the child is never left unattended. These mothers live around folks who know when to knock at the door. We are not that culture…. Seriously! So if at anytime if the child goes missing in all the chaos, it’s everyone’s responsibility.
When a parent has slept well, and is available for the kid all the times, still if the child is missing. Then it’s a problem to handle.
This is difficult to imagine when we have a pm who works really hard, but remember he dznot have kid. He has made us his family.

– Some of my friends instantly share missing kids pics. They are tender hearted people who believe in magics… No one wants kids to go missing. No one’s kids should go missing. May the missing kids find their way back home. May the path lit up with moonlight pebbles and your kids come back. Amen..

Happy Valentine’s day…. with a tiffin

Valentine’s day has grown up to become Deepawali for lovers. At least there is Spark that doesn’t cause pollution. Never mind, there is this lot of woman whose indian husbands wait for that special day to make them feel special, but when that special day arrives they are reminded how special every day is. I belong to that lot and understand that ” on this 14th I am going to cut heart shaped carrots and fix them in the cucumbers.” (😅Thank u facebook)

There’s more. I would like to share with you the love story of our watchman. At least I believed so. Three years ago, when I was in Mumbai, every night at about 8 pm, our watchman’s wife brought him a tiffin. She would stay for an hour and leave. She religiously followed the schedule every season. And anyone who has survived, or not, in Mumbai rains could understand the height of her diligence. She was always there. Right there, rain flowing down her saree, winter giving the chill and summers….I, without fail, found her seated on that stone chair with the tiffin.

I gradually developed deep respect for them. They reminded me of my parents. Either papa would come for lunch or mother would take the tiffin for him. These days we are so busy we can hardly have our meals peacefully. Our education system has taught us one wrong thing “it has to be used to earn, even if we don’t need it.”Seriously, we don’t have time for us.

I really don’t know about the watchman and the lady, may be they were related in different ways. But they were having a lifetime. I take tiffin for my husband these days. It seemed funny and stupid first. With all those restaurants around, why bother? He can even carry his tiffin… Can’t he? And yes, where is the special day, gifts?………..

Life is too short to spend in what we don’t have….. So let’s have a tiffin and bless the watchman and the lady….and we have a happy Valentine’s day.

Lake Balaton

This Sunday we went to lake Balaton. I am not really a travel freak like those who wish to see the world in a day…. If they got wings. But may be I’ll prefer circling over one spot or two. And lake Balaton was like that.

Pristine…. Quite… Frozen. I could feel my spirit breathing. I could see every shade of blue …. Like someone painted it across the sky…. Blue blue and blue. It was the most uplifting blue.

There were about 40 ducks sitting on ice… I wonder y they were not moving. Did they freeze to death? A few blinked though. Little of  Balaton was melt towards the land. A few swans and ducks shrieked and quacked here. A beautiful sight!

It felt tiny, being part of such a big phenomenon….the power of nature.

यूरिनरी सिस टम

With age and time so many changes happen in our body, as if it has a laboratory of its own. For women this change is very quick and definite, specially after pregnancy. For example Hairfall, it is so common that many accept it as a norm. Symptoms whisper ‘hello, may be you have thyroid, bp, arthritis…. ‘ But gets a voice only when it screams.

Here is a small story about a woman who postpones her nature’s call for house work and suffers. Its so common that I did not name the characters.

अपनी भीगी साड़ी को चुपचाप समेटके वो कमरे में आगई। आँगन में बच्चों की आवाज़ उसे परेशान कर रही थी। ह्रदय चक्र में एक सुई सी चुभी। पलकें कई दफे फड़फड़ाने के बाद आँसू संभलगए लेकिंग रुंधे गले के भंवर को निगलना बहुत मुश्किल लग रहा था।

“ऐसे कैसे” उसने सोचा।

बच्ची से नानी बनने के इस सफर मे कितना समय निकल गया पता ही नहीं चला। घर की रखरखाओ में खुद की देख रेख करना कोई कैसे भूल सकता है।

एक एक करके कई पल उसे याद आने लगे।

अभी कुछ दिन पेहले उसकी नींद देर से खुली थी, और एक के बाद एक सबके नाशते बनाते बनाते उसे बाथरूम जाने की फुर्सत हे नहीं मिली। लेकिन ये तो हर दिन की कहानी थी। कभी मार्किट में बाथरूम नहीं मिलते, तो कभी रोटियों से फुर्सत नहीं मिलती। उसने एहसास ही नहीं किया कि उसकी लापरवाही से वो एक नयी बीमारी का घर बन रही थी।

और आज, आज तो दीवाली थी। अब दिवाली के दिन कोई भला पडोसी को बम फोड़ने से रोक सकता है क्या? सब के साथ वो भी खड़ीं थी, फुलझड़ियां और अनार, चक्रियआं के टीम टी माते सुख में डूबी। उन्हें पता ही नहीं चला , कब पडोसी के बच्चे ने एक बेम फोड़ दिया। बम बहुत दूर था, बच्चे ने संभालके समझदारी से बम लगाया था। लेकिन ये सुख समाधी में कुछ यूँ लीन थीं की ईन्हें दायें बायें का कुछ पता न चला। ये यूँ हाकबकाईं की ईनकी साडी भीग गई। एक श राराती बच्चे ने अपनी हंसी रोकी और वो चुपचाप अपनी साड़ी स मेट के अ न्दर आ गई।

बुढ़ापा सबके जीवन के रिपोट कार्ड के सामान होता है। जवानी में क्या खाया, कितनी कसरत की, सब इस चलती फिरती ढांचेनुमा डिग्री में दिखता है। खुशी और दुःख चेहरे की झुर्रियों से झांकते हैं और सुकून की नींद आँखों पर लगे चश्मे से।

और इन्होंने तो अपने लिए एक नयी मार्कशीट तैयार कर ली थी। खैर, वो कपडे बदल के लेट गयीं। अब इस उम्र में कौन सी शर्म, सोचते सोचते दवाई के असर में वो सो गयीं।


‘डाक्टर! कोई ज़रूरत नहीं है। मै ठीक हूं,’ विज्ञानं की किताब से यूरिनरी सिस्टम रटवा दिया था बाबूजी ने, लेकिन वो टस से मस न हुयीं।

‘शर्म नहीं आती तुमको….. बच्चों के सामने ये क्या बकबकाये जा रहे हो’

लेकिन बाबूजी, बाबूजी तो बाबूजी थे ‘ वो अम्मा जी को लेके गए डॉक्टर के पास’ आखिर उनको भी उनकी गलती का एहसास था। जाने कितनी बार कभी उन्हें समय से खाना देने के लिये तो कभी सिर्फ उनके साथ के लिए अम्मा समय टाल दे ती थीं।

थो डा असर आयुर्वेदिक दवाई ने और बाकि घरवालों के प्यार ने दिखाया। लेकिन ये सब के नसीब में नहीं होता। इसलिए समय पर बाथरूम जाएं। एक रोटी बनाने के लिए आप अगर आज बाथरूम रोकेंगी तो आने वाले समय में बहुत सारी बीमारियां आएँगी। सबके साथ बाबूजी और घरवाले नहीं होते।

The statue of freedom

Despite some interesting episodes, this one came in late.

-I discovered, my kid had the power to turn our downstair’s neighbor into a monster, simply by stomping.

-Met two inspiring travellers who appeared more like saints in skiing suits.

-A father, brother and a son who wanted the world to think positively about organ donation.

-A woman who could have chosen SPF 30 with the perfect shade of foundation over road dust and icy winds…. inspired me with her simplicity and humbleness.

-I was overjoyed to find coriander in The great market hall after a search of two months. And instantly ‘I love you-ed’ the shopkeeper. Love at first bite!

-And the statue of freedom that stands upright on gellert hill in the Buda side of pest. This blog is mostly about this statue.

She is bronze and lifts up a palm feather. I always see her from the great market hall or when passing through the bridge. There is something very special about her. Just stand still or get that moment when you can see her….. only her.

You will actually feel her hair and her dress flowing with the wind.

Get the chill.

You know she looks like a sunrise to me and I can watch her for long, admiring, feeling.

It must have felt zealous, people would have cried and cheered when she was raised. I wikied, the palm leaf was not the first idea. There should have been a baby. Nevermind, the leaf has done the justice. Now she z not just a mother but a girl and a woman…. most of a man.

While most of the other statues one can find across Budapest symbolize power or grief, coz of the sufferings, people went through. She stands tall over others inspiring to rise….

‘O…………. hope is gentle as a feather, let it fly in the winds

Coz freedom, is not a matter of chance, but a consequence of blood and minds’

She is special to me coz she was raised in 1947, the year India became independent. Miracles happened at two place at the same time. Don’t call me maniac…. I am in love with a statue.

I haven’t yet clicked her so please help your self.

The good day

The little girl was very angry. She frowned and stomped every where.

Her teacher called her. “Why are you angry dear”

“My puzzle is broken,

Jimmi hit me,

And no one is playing with me.

It’s a bad day” She replied.

The teacher held her hand and told her that they will make it a good one.

“Just close your eyes and take a deep breath in……… and breath out the broken puzzles,

Take a deep breath in ………breathe out Jimmi,

Take a deep breath in…….. breathe out the playing,

Take a deep breath in…….. and breathe out the bad day”

Now  open you eyes….. Hurray it’s a new day”

A simple story to encourage meditation and Breathing and handling anger for kids. My daughter loved it.

The Good Man

Good people come in different shapes and sizes, but they all have same eyes. Eyes that can touch the depth of your heart, and repair the hurt instantly. How fickle the words become then.

I always struggled to reach office on time, still do … Sometimes. Mornings were rush, I would sit with tea for long and then hunt around kitchen for spices and things. Trying to catch the leaving bus always spoiled my day. I would promise my self an early morning next day but the next day never came.

A kannad family lived next to us. Early risers! I always found them quite and sacred. Uncle was a hindu and aunty a Christian. They were a lovely couple who enjoyed solitude. Uncle always wore well ironed pants and shirt and left for office around 8:30am. He was a well read man, and looked intelligent. Somehow I have grown up with a belief that people who wear well ironed cotton clothes and specs are intelligent. And most of the South Indians that I have come across are highly intelligent and religious in their personal habits. So I always looked up to this couple. And uncle also had those kind beautiful eyes that created the fatherly aura around him.

Though I always avoided meeting people then, (being social is hell lot of a job for me.) I would try to have a glance, whenever I saw uncle or aunty walking out. They looked so pure, they made me happy.

One day uncle’s office time changed. We left together or often met at the bus stop. I would greet him and run for the bus. “Does he think, I am always in a hurry” I wondered. A week or two latter, the bus was late, uncle came to me and said ” it’s a long day. Prepare yourself for the day. If you began like this it will be difficult for you to move on”

Until then my work culture and my own behaviour had assured me that people always criticize others. Even in silence the manners are provocative, hurtful or sarcastic. He proved me wrong. In short simple words he taught me the most important thing as a doer. His assertion and gentleness affected me deeply. I was overwhelmed with his words which i knew were out of concern.

I lost my father when I was very young and as a child I always searched for that fatherly love in people. I have missed him in my decisions. And sometimes even missed that somebody who would just stand next to me. But we got used to it. For that one moment I felt if I had a father, so would have been the words.

A few days later he died of a heart attack. He had changed his office time to take rest.

How do people die in a flash!

It is three years now. I m glad that I was able spend those few mornings at the bus stop with him. Bless his soul.

Love for Aunty and their lovely daughter.

A Liberated woman…

During my early days in Mumbai when I was looking for a job, I decided to drop into an old boss’s office.

Nobody had told me this, but a 30 minutes wait followed by his busy schedule ………blah blah blah slapped on me

“Hello! Anybody, simply doesn’t  drops into anybody in Mumbai.”

Never mind, that day I met a woman, 40 plus may be. I thought she was crazy.  But today all my assumptions have gone wrong. She sat alone munching something on Andheri malls food zone. It was lunch time for most so I ended up sharing table with her.

Conversations resulting out of such interactions are most interesting. Unaffected by the opinions of past and fear of future, sometimes we end up discussing our own life. So when she knew I am looking for a job, here’s what she said.

” अभी कर लियो जॉब जी भरके, लेकिन बच्चों के बाद गलती से भी जॉब न करना। तुम्हे क्या लगता है, हुस्बैंड काम में तुम्हारा हाथ बटायेगा? अपनी चड्डी भी नहीं उठनी इनसे।”

I tried to tell her about how supportive my husband is and he himself wants me to choose but she interrupted.

“माँऔ ने तो पहले से बिगाड़ रख्खा होता है इन्हें बाकी कसर हम पूरी कर देते हैं……

आओ हम प्रेस कर देते हैं शर्ट,  मैं कर दूंगी आप रेस्ट करो। गर्म गर्म खाओ।

Though strong opinionated, she had the warmth of a mother so I tried to explain her about my idea of liberation but…

बिलकुल गलती नहीं करना, बच्चों के साथ जॉब करोगी न, सारी दादी नानी याद आ जानी है। और उसपे बच्चे ने कुछ गड़बड़ की उसकी भी ज़िम्मेदारी तुम पे। और याद राखियो, अगर ऐसे में कोई रिश्तेदार घर आजाये न तो सोना तो भूल जाओ।

Liberation की अम्मा आनी है घर में रिपोर्ट लेने?

अगर ज़रुरत नहीं है तो इतनी मथ्था पच्ची करके कोई फायदा है भला, ऊपर से ऑफिस में बॉस की सुनो। बच्चो को अच्छे से पालो और अगर लगे तो बाद में जॉब कर लियो।

My mother never told me all this. she always insisted us to study n do some good job. I could not understand how to react, but her unwanted advice could not be ignored. After all she held a good post in some airlines. She had her reasons to justify.

It’s been six years now. I am a mother to a 4 year old lovely daughter. And I still remember her. She sounded funny but she wasn’t lying.

She redefined the word Liberation for me.