A bit of this and a bit of that

‘Whattttttt, you don’t know whatsapp….Really’, said my friend.

Actually I do know what is that but then I  wanted to have some at her misery. I can be wicked at times, can’t I?

So I made an innocent face with eyes as big as saucers and nodded a ‘no’.

‘Dropbox??”, she asked in shock.

‘What is that?’, I asked

‘Huh’, she sat on the edge of her seat. ‘Twitter, skype, Facebook…’

‘Oh those all  I know’, I said with a smile.

She relaxed a bit. And her palm fell on my mobile. She picked it up and said, ‘What!! You don’t have a smartphone??’

I smiled sweetly.

‘How do you pass time then, that too you are a housewife’, she said.


That was it. I mean I may not be working, but the amount I work may shame the busiest of persons. And yes while the ‘working women’ may have spare time to chat on facebook or whatsapp or whatever, i barely have time to open the windows of my bedroom and talk to my neighbour.

‘Do you know how to make kashayam powder’, I asked.

‘huh’, was all that she could say.

‘Do you know the cleaner of our building is sick and what is more he has not been paid for the last two months’

Her mouth was wide open.

‘No I am not on friendly terms with him but I found him sick and ever since he is having food with us’, I said.

I continued. ‘Do you know your daughter came the other day as she had some doubts with her homework. You were at home but you must have been busy with whatsApp or whatever. And because we were having some snacks, she said she is hungry and sat down with us and she said she was fed up of McCains chips and McDonald burgers.’

She got up angry, ‘She could have asked me, I would have always helped her.’

‘Sit down’, I said. I did not want her to get angry on the poor child.

After I saw that she had calmed down, I added, ‘I may not know what is happening in the world but I do know what is happening around me.’

She averted her gaze.

Revenge I tell you is sweet. : D

*part fiction

** this post is not meant to belittle working woman or any of the modern day applications.

The 7-year Itch

You completed seven years and …..’, said a newly made friend

‘Yes’, I said with pride and a smile in the face. I mean there should be pride in completing every year isn’t it? Living with another person, sharing everything  is no mean feat.

‘Oh’, she said.

I raised my eyebrows.

‘I have not been able to live with the same person for more than …..three years’, she said. I did not comment, knowing that she was in a live-in relationship.  Anyway it was better not to open the mouth for something which I did not know about.

‘I mean you come to know all about a person in the first few years, what is left to discover anymore’. she continued.

I kept mum. First of all I had not known that you became friends/partners just for discovering. I had always though that there were other things too like, sharing, caring, love, romance, children etc. Secondly, yes, me and my husband were married for seven years but still there were some days when I felt I did not know him at all. Can anyone know the other completely?

‘You were talking about an itch’, I tried changing the topic.

‘Huh’, she said and then realizing what I meant guffawed. With tears rolling down her cheeks she said, ‘Not an itch, the seven-year itch’.

Then on seeing the blank look on my face, ‘Don’t you know?’, she asked

‘What?’ I said.

‘Hey, Bhagvan’, she cried out, yes our native tongues do arise when in shock or surprise.

‘Don’t you know couples especially the males get edgy after 7 years of marriage. I mean what is left to discover?’, she said.

Now all this discovery business was making me edgy.

I stayed quiet.

‘They find out ways to make girlfriends, go out on tours, have a makeover…’, she went on.

My heart meanwhile thumped loudly. My hubby recently was going on a lot of official tours. On his last outing he had bought himself a couple of new shirts and ties, he had said that he had got it cheap in some sale but was it the seven-year itch?

I glanced at the clock and jumped.

‘What?’ she asked.

‘The school bus will be arriving in about five minutes and I am late’, I said.

‘Not a problem, I will drop you to the bus stop’, she said.

From that moment on I was like a woman possessed. I went through his mails, yes I know the password of his mail account. I checked his shirt for lipstick marks. I overheard all his mobile conversations, I checked to see whether his airline tickets matched to what he told me.

Until one fine day when I was checking his wallet and he caught me.

‘What?’, he asked.

I shrugged. Now we have had an unwritten policy right in the beginning of our marriage, that I would not look at his wallet and he won’t look at my purse.

‘You have been acting strange these past few days,  you have been tracking me, isn’t it? Can I know the reason?’, he asked.

‘ME?’, I asked in surprise. I mean was it that obvious.

‘I am waiting’, he boomed

‘Anita told me about the seven-year itch’, I explained.

‘What seven year itch’, he asked.

I was relieved that he did not know about it and explained.

‘Ask her why she has the three-year itch, why she changes partners every three years’, he said.

Seeing that he was seething I decided not to tell him about the discovering part and kept mum.

‘And anyways I have had enough of one woman, why would I need another’, he said still yelling and left the room.

Crestfallen I sat. Have I made his life so miserable, I thought.

After a few minutes he came back and looking at my misery said, ‘I meant that…see we have made such a nice home, we understand each other, we have a beautiful daughter, am I a fool to jeopardize all this and go after some other?’

I looked at his face, his feelings were genuine. I hugged him and decided to throw both doubts and Anita out of our life.


Fiction written as a part of Write Tribe Festival of Words 1st to 7th September 2013


And that is my last post for this festival. I had a great time, hope you all had too.

Ciao 🙂

Spreading wings

He calls me and says,  ‘Amma, I need a sharpener.’ Yes, it’s vacation time but I have asked him to do some coloring. I look at the mess around me. It is evident I cannot go to the cold store, so I ask him to go instead.

Fils in hand he marches.  A few paces away and he stops, looks back and says, you need not come behind me. He has his reason. Till date I have not allowed him to go alone. I go with him or behind him just to make sure that he crosses the road safely and does not come in the range of some car driver with his foot on the accelerator.

I nod and watch him go.

Memories of a tiny infant flash by. Has he grown so much that now he goes out alone to shop.

And I wonder how my parents had felt when I had left their nest for studies. My mom was devastated, father was speechless and I had been very happy. (it is a different issue that I had cried bucketfuls by the second week of being alone).

Every year, come June end my mom makes her customary call, have you started packing, have you kept this, this, this (rattling names of things which i should carry). I keep on saying my ayes and nays until in exasperation I cry out, ‘Amma it is almost 20 years since I do everything alone.’

‘I know’, she says, ‘ But you are still my daughter.’

I await now for my brother’s call on the day before the travel. ‘Have you kept your passport, your ticket, your medical records, your medicines…’ I say yes and keep the phone down and then both of us begin the countdown to the meeting. For my siblings I will always be their younger sister.

And though I sometimes resent the instructions but I get a lot of security. The feeling that there is someone who looks after you is great.

He returns from the cold store a blue sharpener in hand very proud of his excursion. For days to come we will hear about how he went, what all cars came on the way, how he had to tell four times what he wanted before the shop wala uncle heard him etc.

I know I will never be able to go with him again to the shop, to show him what is kept where or to hold his hand and say watch right, left, right and cross the street. But I watch him confident and happy and hope that I have taught him right. It is time for him to spread his wings and fly….alone.

The little things that count

‘Eat it, I said.

He didn’t. He just looked at me in earnest. I looked away, today I won’t melt, today I had to be firm. Oh how I longed to see him with chubby cheeks. But no, not for me that happiness. I had to be content with his lean, trim form. I made my eyes as big as I could and stared. He averted his gaze and before I could blink, ran away.

I sighed.  It was much easier when they are small. You make them sit on their chair or on your lap, tell stories and feed. But no, not anymore.

‘Why don’t you do some maths’, I ask seeing him busy playing on the tablet. ‘Hmm, five minutes’, he says. I am amazed. Amazed at how he is developing into a person. How he has his own likes, dislikes, opinions. Some people don’t leave their mother’s pallu even if they themselves are middle-aged. Mine never held it. Our roles have always been reverse. ‘Amma can’t you be careful when you walk’, when I bang on something. ‘Amma see here it is a bit down’, when we got out and there is a step. Or, ‘Don’t worry I will manage’, I mean who is the mother here?

My thoughts return, ‘You have an exam, won’t you study?’. He looks at me and says, ‘Don’t worry’. Temper flares, ‘And mind you if your marks are low, see what I am going to do’

He gets up grudgingly; mumbling, ‘Always bossing over me, I don’t have a say at all.’

When the father returns from work both of us are ready with our list of complaints. He nods at each of us and proceeds to watch the News.

It has been a bad day. I have a bad headache so  much that opening the eyes is a punishment but when the doorbell rings I squint and drag myself to open the door, Both the father and the son have arrived. I move to set the table. That done I go and lie down again.

‘What happened?’, the man asks.

‘Can’t you see she has a headache’, the son says and starts massaging the forehead.

Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart. He may be stubborn, he may be lazy, he may not yet know his interests but at least he knows to care.


Written as a part of

Write Tribe Prompt


Kavita was very happy. Today she was going for the dinner buffet at the Ramada. Her maid was on leave for the past one week and she was in no mood to do the dishes. Also she had heard that the buffet at Ramada was good.

So she decked up and waited anxiously for her husband Ravi. Now Ravi doesn’t like to eat out. Whether it is because she cooks better or because he doesn’t want to spend on exorbitant prices at Restaurants, she has not been able to understand even after their 10 years of marriage.

And so she awaits his arrival. As soon as he arrives, he looks at her, sighs, freshens up and sees that she has kept his suit ready which normally she never does.

And so they leave.

Looking at the miles long buffet table, Kavita shudders. Her appetite vanishes.And she has visions of what is going to happen later.

They start with the starters. And though she is happy with the hara bhara kabab. Ravi has piled his plate high with varieties of veg and non veg starters.

And then it is main course. She nibbles, he eats.

The dessert, she skips, he gorges.

And then she leaves the place, he waddles.

And then he burps every now and then in the car. Looking at her disgusted look, he says ‘Gas’ and shrugs.

Once they reach home, she changes and then goes to the kitchen.

Comes later and gives a glass to her husband, ‘kadha’  she says and prepares herself for a long, long night.

* Kadha- kasaya, a home ready to ease indigestion, cold, cough etc

** image source- Google images

Little steps…..Giant Leap

I have been struggling to better myself. Trying to control the temper which frays all too often, the face which even without words expresses the inner turmoil, the heart which withers when things do not go its way.

And so in the beginning of May I thought of working stead fast on five ‘points’. Five areas which I need to work on to make myself better.


It is not easy to smile when you have a face which mirrors everything what you feel. Time and again my mother reminds me that it is not good to be so transparent. People take advantage, you see. And then who likes to see a sad face or an angry one for that matter. So the whole month I have tried to be smiling. and wonder of wonders a smile does melt away worries and pain


The second issue that I needed to work upon was ‘not to mind’. The world will not always work at your call. Things may not  happen as planned. Some one may be rude to you. DO NOT MIND. I have to keep on reminding myself.  I also noticed that sometimes we think too much of ourselves and expect that others will do so too. But the fact is I am one amongst the crowd and not someone special. Ahh…. that knowledge did burst the bubble and my ego did come down a few notches.  When that realization came through, I stopped feeling bad at others behaviur.


The next in line was being humble. When I discovered that I was not great, I automatically came in line for some humility. Being humble also means accepting others as they are with their weaknesses and strength. It also bridges gaps and build relationships.


As a part of my spiritual growth, I need to read … a lot but generally the reading finishes with reading posts but no this May I strived to read some more. A little bit every day. Even if the reading is scattered over a whole range of topics, I read and I expressed. That is a victory. I am slowly coming out of my cocoon and learning to put my thought across in a group. Expressing means putting out ideas which means a new dimension in understanding. Very often we understand more when we put our ideas, thoughts across.


It is essential to see the lighter side of things otherwise life becomes a drab. Especially in spiritual topics I have seen that speakers who infuse humor in their talks are able to reach out more. The attendance for their lectures are more and the listeners too are able to understand better.

  •  I have tried to be happy, smiling, humorous, studious and humble this whole month. And though I have been successful ‘outside’. I have found that I have failed miserably at home. I guess I have to keep this exercise on for the coming weeks till these five become a part of my life.


This exercise has been done as a part of Indiblogeshwaris first birthday. Blogwati Gee had this brilliant idea to do in May something/s which had been in our bucket list and named it ‘The Elusive One‘. Thank you Blogwati Gee for this awesome exercise.

Indiblogeshwaris is a blogger group of women in facebook. A group which gives wonderful support and encouragement to its membersCover PhotoThank you Indiblogeshwaris 🙂 for lifting spirits, bringing smiles.

This wonderful header has been designed by Garima Obrah.

All other images courtesy Google images


Aditya opened the door to find Nita holding her forehead. Seeing him,she screamed, ‘I have a terrible headache, I am sure I have brain tumor’. Aditya dropped his bag and took her to their family doctor.

The doctor asked her to go to the ophthalmologist saying that maybe she has a vision problem. Aditya gave her a sly smile as if to say ‘I told you’

Aditya then began telling about his back pain. Nita grimaced and thought,  ‘I constantly have such pains but have I ever complained’

The doctor gave him some medicines and sent them home. They reached home to see their teenage son limping. ‘What happened’, Asked Nita. ‘Fell down while playing football.’ was his reply. Aditya examined the injured area, it was bruised and obviously it was paining a lot. But the kid just smiled and limped away.

Both the parents smiled sheepishly. The kid was much more in pain than them and here they were complaining.



We complain so much about our aches and pains but kids… do they ever bother??