tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66773136306414485292024-03-04T20:52:14.034-08:00StorytimesAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-26709960298864807152014-03-24T22:56:00.002-07:002014-03-24T23:16:50.274-07:00Straight from the heart ......10......Male Dowry???<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Just as we begin to think that we
are about to put an end to a social evil
called “Dowry” given by a girl’s parents to the bridegroom and his family, a
reverse which I have exclusively termed “male dowry” seems to be slowly putting its head
up....</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
A couple of days ago I was with a
group of my girlfriends, all with married
or marriageable sons and daughters now.....Marriage and how, was the hot topic
of the day....some of these girls already have sons/daughters-in-law. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The discussion was going good,
each sharing their experiences as mothers-in-law or as mothers seeking
brides/bridegrooms for their respective wards.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Surprisingly, the mothers of
daughters seemed to want a lot, apart from a well educated bridegroom from a
good family. Not only did they want this but they wanted the boy to be ‘well-settled’....and
this one thing made me ask what that ‘well-settled’
aspect meant, because in our times the criteria of good education
and a good family were parents topmost choice. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
And what came out seemed like
they expected a ‘male-dowry” ie they wanted the boy to have a flat/apartment
house of his own, at least a latest two-wheeler if not four-wheeler, a good
bank balance et all...and all this at a very young age of 28 -30 years(as if their highly educated daughters already had all this because of their high education and at this age of 28-30...:)...).... Our
daughters are highly educated and they must have husbands who should be earning at least an annual salary of seven figures they said (as if , by
educating themselves their daughters seemd to have done the universe a favou..:)...)had
turned to be the. Also, in the same tone they mentioned that they would not
give any dowry (we are educated people you know and against dowry, they said) and the marriage expenses too were to be
shared fifty fifty.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I was utterly shocked at their expectation
and all this got me thinking. They were
educated enough to get the bridegrooms family to divide expenses of the
marriage ceremony, and not GIVE any dowry......But were they not expecting
RECEIVING the dowry, termed as a ‘settled’ boy.
They wanted the boy to have all that which one earns after years of a ‘working
life’. So indirectly, the boy better have this if only from his parents? and then it struck me , it was a well-hidden "male-dowry" that they wanted!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
In my own case, my husband was just 25 years
old and me 23 when we got married. Forget
‘settled’ but he
barely earned a salary which was just enough for the family (a joint one) to
survive for a month. Both of us were too proud to ask our parents for anything.
I started work too and helped put in my bit to help in the household finances...Slowly
and steadily we worked together to make a life and made more than we expected
to have done when we started. Yes, we had our share of insecurities, lots of
struggle to reach where we did, but always remained hardworking and
self-motivated. Never did I think that ‘making a life’ was just the
responsibility of my husband. We did what we could, how we could, by supporting
each other in all ways. And looking back, there are no regrets, only a very deep
feeling of satisfaction!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I wonder why don’t the ‘educated parents’ of ‘these highly educated’
girls don’t feel the same way today especially since the educated parents of boys seem to be understanding enough to
come out of the age-old traditions of dowry and spendings! Why do they not inculcate a feeling of ‘working
together’ and making a life? Why do they insist on
everything to be readymade from the boy’s side?. Are they now trading their
girl’s education for the ‘male dowry’ ie they educated her so that she could
help get the dowry for herself? If their girls are really educated , are they
not capable of supporting their husbands in all ways to make a life instead of
expecting a readymade one? Is not making a life together more fun and
satisfying? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Another aspect that horrified me
was they did not want the elders to be staying with the newly-weds, as if they
expected their daughters to be only young and newly-wed all their life! In today’s day and time, even the elders
wish that the young ones have their privacy and try their best to give them
that but does that mean that the elders of the house are to be done away with??
What about the old and ailing ones?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
It is also common to hear these
days that these girls do not know to cook. It seems very “hep” to say, but you
know what I don’t know to cook (wonder then, why they want to marry and upset
their present rocking lives, at all??just because their ‘educated parents’
think it is the right thing to do??...:)....:)...) Funny that, since I tell my son that in today’s
day he must be qualified not only technically but also in the kitchen. There are
days when we cook together so that he is capable of leading a life to support his partner in every way. It
is the least he can do to help her. (Not to mention, there is so much else!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
In conclusion, I would say that
whatever age or era, the real criteria must continue to remain ‘good education’
and by this I mean REAL EDUCATION not a male/female dowry-seeking FANCY DEGREE! (and this after you have found the boy/girl you chose with
responsibility to say “I do!”) It is important to inculcate in your boy/girl
child that if one wants to live a happily married life , it is about working at
everything together as a team of two grown-up, mature individuals and not somebody
who wants to live off dowries, male or female. Do your best and be assured, the
Almighty will take care of the rest!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
However, if this new trend of the
‘male dowry’ continues, guess, very soon, we will have NGOs coming up to mainly
fight another cause of social evil which I have neologized and termed “male-dowry”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
PS : My friends , this is only
applicable to those thinking in terms of “male-dowry” and not everyone. This is
not ‘generalized’ for all you rocking parents of girls up there...:)</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-10708602246080942232014-01-14T23:00:00.003-08:002014-01-15T00:39:11.294-08:00Just Beyond Reach....Short Story 4<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #939598;">He died on his birthday—the
twenty-ninth of July.</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">That evening Rajesh Chauhan had
enjoyed his usual double-peg of Bunnahabhain accompanied by a few puffs of a
Havana. He had then dropped in for a late night tryst with the latest in a long
line of mistresses. Parked near the entrance foyer, his gleaming Bentley
attracted the attention of passersby while his chauffeur patiently waited for
his master to emerge from the apartment on the seventeenth floor.</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">Rajesh Chauhan was a Leo. Like all
lions, he was handsome, full of himself and expected to be served. Virility,
stamina and lack of fidelity were the other qualities of his species.</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">Rajesh’s rags-to-riches story was
almost the stuff of fairytales. Born to a humble blacksmith in Ludhiana, he had
run away from home at age ten. Working as a paperboy, tea vendor, car washer
and shoe polisher on Dalal Street, Mumbai’s stock-broking district, he had
managed to survive the rough and tumble of Maximum City. At night he would
spread a few newspapers on the pavement near the tea stall and fall asleep,
utterly exhausted. He did not know that his life was about to dramatically
change.</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">One morning he had been polishing a
customer’s shoes when he overhead him discussing a particular company with his
stockbroker. The information turned out to be nothing less than gold. There had
been no looking back for Rajesh Chauhan.</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">Honoré de Balzac had always maintained
that behind every great fortune lay a great crime. Rajesh’s life story would
have been the perfect example of Balzac’s view.</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">Chairman of one of India’s largest
investment banks and private equity firms, Rajesh could make stock indices jump
by simply snapping his fingers. Successive prime ministers routinely depended
on him to fill party coffers while pompous businessmen and arrogant bureaucrats
turned embarrassingly servile in his presence. There was almost nothing in the
world that Rajesh could not possess. Except for Renuka.</span><span style="color: #939598;">His mind wandered to happier and
simpler times as he felt the soft Egyptian cotton sheets absorb the sweat off
his body. He remembered the feeling of Renuka’s head on his shoulders, the
excitement of waiting for her to show up at the movies, the tenderness of
holding hands, the thrill of sharing a cup of coffee and the intensity of their
kisses. Why had he messed it up?</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">Rajesh sighed as he lay in bed next
to the sleeping woman. One of India’s finest fashion models, she was stunning—both
in and out of clothes. For the chauvinistic Rajesh, she was simply the bedroom
equivalent of his Bentley, Porsche or Lamborghini. The sharper the curves, the greater the excitement
and sense of danger. The problem with Rajesh was that he tired rather easily
and was about to ditch the Bentley. Looking at the pretty lady’s face, he
realized that it was time to ditch her too.</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">He mulled over the idea as he fell
into an anxious slumber, far less restful than the pavement snooze. The room
was dark, the lights having been thoughtfully dimmed by the woman. Her eyes
were shut but she was not asleep.</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">She waited a few minutes for his
gentle snoring to fall into a rhythm before opening her eyes. She carefully ran
a hand under her pillow to find what she was looking for. She felt the cold
metal in her hands as she contemplated her next move....even as she thought of
life, or something like it! The small town girl in pigtails, the voluptuous
beauty she had grown to be, the burning desire to conquer the fashion
World and the absconding from home to make it big in the glam World! Heartbroken parents!
The severing of ties with all those near and dear ones...And
then the torture that was Mumbai. Mumbai, where ethics and values meant nothing, nothing
to dreamy, strugglers such as herself. Then the hard learning of having to pay
a price for
everything! Painfully, she recollected those dire moments, when she studied
sordid walls in dingy bedrooms with obstreperous hoodlums. All of that only for buying some more time in this ugly city
with the money they threw at her!! Ugh! Those moments....A shudder ran through
her, even today, when she thought of it!</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">Then those casting couches where men,
fit enough to be her fathers copulated with her, just for some stupid small advertisement jobs
they awarded her with.........She had redeemed her soul to the devil and how!</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">By hook or crook, she had made a
fairly big name for herself! A name big enough for the big bad boys of this
World to notice her! Her first big chance had come when she had played mistress
to a big name in the Government. She had been used and thrown by a couple more
after that. But so what...there was always another sucker waiting to pick her
up. And after all, such alliance gave her the unquestioned power to
throw her weight around. Pelf was her slave too...She lacked nothing now,
nothing, except a strong feeling which was growing rapidly within, a feeling
for an everlasting love.</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">She looked at the snoring Rajesh. She had been show stopper,
for Tanaya Dinshaw's fashion show. He had
watched her in that lustful way, through evening. Knowing how powerful he was, she too
had made a play for his advances. They had driven back together and their
alliance had continued since. She had fallen for him madly. He was so much
older and unlike, but she had felt an adulation for his charming self from the moment she had set his
eyes on him. He was so much more than she had heard of! Life had now had a new
meaning for her. He was knowledgeable, well-travelled and so much fun to be
with. The only thing she abhorred was his treatment of her, treating her like one
of his many material possessions. Love has no reason, they say and so it was, with
her! She started dreaming of the unthinkable...She now wanted him, wanted him
to be hers and forever.</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">On the last few occasions they met, she
had dropped hints of a permanent alliance. She was not ignorant of his
reputation for ‘use and throw’. However, he had averted the topic everytime and she had cringed. Her mind
reprimanded her the very first time, but her heart did not allow her to give
up!</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">Rajesh acted a bit distant of late
and she had started fearing the worst to come and soon. It was his birthday
today. She had planned to once again discard her woman ego, please him hard,
and make a go at it. If he said no,
there was no point in continuing her futile existence as life meant nothing
without him, not anymore... She was tired of it all . She loved him too much to
let go of him now!</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">But what power did she possess to
hold him? And when he left, could she bear him sharing it with another? God,
what must she do to stop him? To be hers
forever? And if not hers, not anybody’s
either, she thought furiously. And then an even more wild thought
had struck her. With that thought in mind, she had found the sharpest blade,
one from the set of the large kitchen knives he had brought her from Germany
and kept it below her pillow.</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">The evening slipped away. What she
feared most happened . She had been
utterly disappointed! The topic had drawn a close! Something in the way he had
looked at her, afterwards, hinted that it was the end of the road for him, here.
In that disappointed and depressed frame of mind, she had slaved his
excessively demanding self, for the last time!!!</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">Scoundrel, she thought, as she heard
him snoring...If only, you had loved me as much as I do! She was still feeling
sad, depressed and self-piteous when she acted!</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">She was now staring at the blade and breathing heavily...And then it was
quickly over, within the next few moments.....The blade now firmly gripped in
her hand, turning Rajesh towards her with a sudden forceful movement, bringing
down the blade with a strong
powerful movement into his body, just
below his heart, the sudden spurt of blood, his look of astonishment as he
lifted and fell......Then the sharp slash in her own wrist resulting in a sudden
and wild gushing of blood, the feeble lifting and falling of her hand as she
closed her eyes, forever...</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">Rajesh was slowly sinking too....Shock
of the woman’s sudden attack had subsided. Too much blood was lost....his
insides were slowly turning numb....Struggling to keep his eyes open, in those
last few moments he saw glimpses of the life lived. He felt no regrets, none,
except that he had could never possess Renuka.
Someday, he’d thought time and again, someday when I am tired of
these trysts, I will get her back, forever, for keeps. Make up to her, love her
and life will be like the old times again.</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span><span style="color: #939598;">His life in him, for only a couple
of more seconds now, he feebly outstretched his hands as if to reach out for her, the only
one that had meant something to him, his
Renuka!
I want to hug her hard, kiss her deeply,
love her more passionately than ever before, he thought, even as that cold numbness slowly spread all over, bringing his life to a
standstill! In that last breath he took, he had saw her, right
infront of his eyes, smiling warmly, as she always did, his beautiful and
charming Renuka.....except, except for the fact that she was faraway, far and just
beyond reach..........</span><br />
<span style="color: #939598;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #939598;">Completed for Ashwin Sanghi by
Archana Mujumdar Tambe</span></div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="js-tweet-text tweet-text" style="white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;">
</div>
<div class="stream-item-footer" style="font-size: 12px; padding-top: 3px; position: relative;">
<div class="context" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">
</div>
<a class="details with-icn js-details" href="https://twitter.com/ATSTST/status/423327866068029440" style="background-color: white; color: #999999; display: inline-block; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; margin-left: 2px; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;"></a></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-2802673649859195742014-01-14T22:17:00.001-08:002014-01-14T22:55:51.673-08:00Storytimes: FIRST LOVE - Short Story 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<a href="http://archanatambe.blogspot.com/2014/01/first-love-short-story-1.html?spref=bl">Storytimes: FIRST LOVE - Short Story 1</a>: He held her hand as she cut the cake. The cake he had specially baked for her, himself, this morning! It was just a little after midnight...</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-79298015153461315412014-01-14T22:14:00.000-08:002019-02-11T11:01:48.668-08:00REMORSE .....Short story 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
https://m.femina.in/femina-fast-fiction/remorse-2229-html<br />
<br />
<section class="article-container" id="picCaption" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: RobotoMedium, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 15px auto; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px 10px; position: relative;"><div class="main-c" id="picCaption" style="box-sizing: border-box;">
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #424242; font-family: RobotoLight, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1.14286em; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.20714em; margin-bottom: 12px; margin-top: 12px; position: relative;">
<span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;"><em style="box-sizing: border-box;">Remorse by Archana Mujumdar Tambe</em></span></div>
<div style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #424242; font-family: RobotoLight, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1.14286em; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: 1.20714em; margin-bottom: 12px; margin-top: 12px; position: relative;">
I wake up very suddenly. The train has gathered speed. I look at my watch. It was 11.30 pm. I don’t know how many stations had come and gone since it left Pune junction, where I had boarded the train. I awake with thoughts of my miserable life, unaware of anything around me.<br />
<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
My head rests on my folded hands, as I stare at the berth overhead in the lightless compartment. Flashes of my life as they stand today, start whizzing past, from the time I had started understanding this drab world. A permanently ailing and bedridden father, always at the mercy of an overworked, sad and whimpering wife—my poor mother. Except for moaning and grunting I have seen no other expression of my sick and sleeping father, and somehow, in these last 25 years, I have grown to hate him—hate him so much for making our life a torment. I often wonder about his drinking habit, the habit that reduced him to this state and me and mom, to a life of permanent pain. I wonder why God was so merciful in blessing him with an endless useless life? Mother worked for all of us, tirelessly, but all the anger that she had for everything was vented out on me. Canes and curses. Sometimes it got so bad that I run, hide in fear and cry for hours. Most nights I lie awake, hating my parents, hating everything about life and thinking what the best way to end this meaningless life would be.<br />
<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
Work—another troublesome affair. Having only a basic degree, I can just about manage to get a door-to-door salesman’s job. I hate this job, but is there a choice? Who likes to ring every doorbell and be shooed away like he is a thief or a burglar? I ring at least 50 to 60 doorbells per day, oblivious to rain or sun. But usually, can’t get past even three doors. This, and the boss says that I don’t make a sincere effort. As if he accompanies me on those rounds. And if that is not enough, he threatens to dismiss me if I fail to deliver the target. <br />
<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
The only time I forget my woes is when I am looking at Shanti. Shanti, the petite, sweet and gentle board operator, presently my only happiness in life. I have seen Shanti give me shy glances although I pretend not to notice, but somewhere, deep down, I feel a certain something at the thought of her noticing me and that too, in such a way! It evokes a wonderful want in me, a want to possess someone, totally my very own, to love and care about. <br />
<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
‘Home’ is a small two-room apartment in a chawl with common toilets. This apartment comprises a kitchen and a larger outer room, barely fitting dad’s bed, a small chair, table and two mattresses rolled in a corner, which make up for mother’s and my beds, by night. At the other corner is an old large iron trunk, where mother keeps whatever little valuables we own. On a wall is hung a mirror which seems to be only for my use. There is always a filthy odour in this place I call home. It stifles me and every single night I sleep with the thought of killing this horrible man, who has made our life hell. I also feel like getting away, going away forever, somewhere, and fast; I have to break free from this torture. Don’t know where to, but I must…else…<br />
<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
This morning, when I left home, there was just one thought on my mind—never to return! I started walking briskly to wherever my feet carried me. After walking aimlessly the whole day, exhausted, I looked around to where I had stopped to rest. It was almost 7 pm and I was near the railway station. I walked in, bought a ticket at the counter for Kanyakumari Express scheduled to leave in the next 15 minutes. Still deep in my unhappy thoughts, I walked into Pune junction. The last thing I remember after getting up was boarding the train, in the last compartment. Almost immediately, I fell sleep. Now, it’s 11.30 pm. How long have I been sleeping?<br />
<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
I stretch and look around. Then, I get up and walk a bit. Strangely, the whole coach is in darkness, with nobody in it but me. I saw a figure of a person in a corner seat opposite where I am sitting. I reach for the light and switch it on, and see this beautiful girl, with strange sad looking eyes, staring at me. Our eyes meet and she smiles at me.<br />
“Hi,” I greet her politely. “I’m Vipul. And you?”<br />
“Hello, I’m Disha,” she says, smiling at me. “Where are you going and all alone?”<br />
“Don’t know where,” I say, and ask her, “But so are you. Where are you travelling to?”<br />
“Home,” she smiles now, and comes to sit beside me. She then opens a small bag and offers some food, which I take willingly. She starts eating too. “But, aren’t you scared to travel alone?” I ask.<br />
<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
After a pause, “Me? Scared? No, not at all,” she answers with a wry smile, which changes to a fierce expression, which I find somewhat strange. Ice broken, we get into a deep conversation learning more about each other. Disha Johnson from Wadi, hails from a small town in Maharashtra but currently works for a large sari manufacturer in Trichy. She had come to Mumbai for a meeting with a retailer wanting to engage in their brand of saris. Her husband Nishad, the national sales head for a tyre brand, usually visits Mumbai by this train.<br />
<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
“So then, is he not travelling with you today?” I ask, to which she replies, “Life and its uncertain ways...Don’t want to talk about him, if you don’t mind.” And she looks away. I see her face contort and there is pain in those large brown eyes. Then suddenly, looking at me, she says, “I loved him a lot but he cheated on me. Went away with another one, leaving me craving his love. And all I do is wait…wait for him and his love.” Slowly, under her breath, she adds, “Someday I will meet him on this train, or will I?”<br />
<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
Why, I thought, does she want to meet a man that dumped her? I feel drawn to her. She too is lonely and in pain, just like me, I tell myself. I notice her eyeing me, and feel her warm breath as she moves closer. Slowly, she entwines her hand in mine and looks up at me in a very strange and loving way. My heart reaches out, and with love and tenderness I have never felt myself capable of, I put my arms comfortingly around her. She responds too by hugging me tightly and what follows is stranger than fiction. We both leave aside our thoughts and end up fiercely hugging and kissing each other. Soon we are all over each other, making passionate love. My blank mind is now suddenly alive, active, and I feel as light as a feather in body and mind. All my woes have suddenly vanished and I feel full and complete in her embrace.<br />
<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
In this contented, happy state of mind, I fall asleep in her arms. The train comes to a standstill and we both wake up with its jerk. It has reached a station. She tells me it is time to get off the train. Completely mesmerised and still intoxicated by her sweet charm, I walk behind her. She takes my hand and we disembark. I read the word ‘Wadi’ on the station as we walk out together in the darkness of the night.<br />
“Where are we going?” I ask.<br />
“My home,” she answers as we walk out in silence.<br />
I hear a voice and slowly try to open my eyes to the face of an old man peering down at me. There is strong sunlight above. I try to get up but feel strangely weak. I peer through my half-open eyes and see a few men. The old man with a white long beard has a shovel in his hand.<br />
“Where am I, who are you, and what am I doing here?” I ask him, and further, “And where is Disha. She was to take me home.”<br />
“I am the caretaker of this place,” he tells me. “Disha who? This one?” he asks, pointing to something at my side. There is a strange sadness in his eyes now.<br />
“What?” I suddenly sit up and look to where he is pointing. What I see turns me cold. I am sitting beside a tombstone in the middle of a cemetery and the tombstone reads: RIP Disha Johnson. Cold sweat breaks out on my forehead and my throat runs dry.<br />
“Who was she? Did you know her?” I ask him.<br />
<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
“Yes. I was at her burial 10 years ago. People said her husband had pushed her out of a running train.” Then, looking at me again, he asks, “She brought you here from the train, didn’t she? All of them that she did so far, have said just that!” Shaking his head, he walks away. The first shockwave gone, my mind clears.<br />
I look down at the tombstone and gently run my hand over it. Disha, who had shown me what it was to feel and love. I feel sorry for the fact that she was just a poor, sad soul trapped in between two worlds and would so remain. She was helpless. And at that moment, something makes me feel ashamed of my self-pity, and the anger and hate that I felt for my helpless parents.<br />
<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />
Was my situation as bad as Disha’s? I was young, healthy and alive, wasn’t I? If I took my thoughts away from my own pain, could I not work harder and achieve whatever I wanted to? Disha really was helpless, but was I? Was I so selfish that I had to run away from a situation, which Mom had alone faced for so many years? Mom, my dearest, loving, hardworking brave Mom. I saw her anger, but never her hidden love. Tears of remorse started trickling from my eyes. I was so thankful for having met Disha. I got up, my mind now cleared of all ambiguity. Dispelled of all unhealthy thoughts and with a mind now focussed to take life by its horns, I walked to the station. The train for Pune chugged out of Wadi, taking with it a new man looking to conquer new horizons.</div>
</div>
</section><br />
<div class="next-article-link" style="background-color: white; border-bottom: 1px solid rgb(222, 222, 222); border-top: 1px solid rgb(222, 222, 222); box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: RobotoMedium, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 12px; padding: 8px 12px;">
<a href="https://m.femina.in/femina-fast-fiction/the-journey-2228.html" style="align-content: center; background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; display: inline-block; font-family: RobotoBold; font-size: 13px; line-height: normal; text-decoration-line: none; width: 976px;"></a></div>
<br />
<section class="section-cate" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; display: block; font-family: RobotoMedium, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0px auto; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></section><br /><br />
<br />
<br />
Link of my Short Story REMORSE pasted here...Do read n enjoy..:)</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-57546667123518091182014-01-14T21:04:00.002-08:002014-01-14T22:10:21.566-08:00FIRST LOVE - Short Story 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
He held her hand as she cut the cake.
The cake he had specially baked for her, himself, this morning! It was just a little after midnight. She never stayed up this late after she had been diagnosed
for severe acid reflux. The “Happy birthday to you...” vocal, played on the old
tape recorder in the background. A kingsize bouquet of what seemed like a
hundred red roses lay on one side. A small box wrapped in soft pink gelatine
and tied in satin ribbons, lay beside it. He was now singing with the tape in a
soft trembling voice. Vijay Kumar Bakshi, aged seventy, a retired Defence
Services Colonel, her dear old neighbour for as long as she had known...now
also her friend, philosopher and guide! <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
This morning she had rung his
doorbell, as usual, twice. “I am busy today, sorry, but you must go” his voice
had boomed through the unopened door. Why had he so behaved so strangely, knowing
she was the only one that rang his doorbell! What is he so occupied with?’ she
thought to herself. Upset and hurt, she quietly retreated. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The cake-cutting ceremony brought
tears of joy to her eyes. She, Mrs Naina Virani would be sixty -five today! In
the twentynine years of marriage to Mr. Virani, she did not recollect a single celebration
of special moments, never for her and certainly not like this! Mr. Virani was a
highly educated, sophisticated gentleman, coming from a higher class of the
Society. He had retired as the Executive MD of the Chemical Company he worked
for. Theirs had been an arranged marriage. Right on the day of her graduation
results, her father had disclosed that a fine marriage proposal was awaiting her.
“It is almost finalised. A small formality of ring exchange is all that is
remaining” he announced. Nobody, including her mother, from her family of seven
asked her if she even wished to get married. She was the eldest of her five
siblings and a do-away responsibility of her parents! So when her father
pronounced, she quietly abided. Married,
she had come to reside in this apartment, which was the only companion from her
old times, now, spare Col. Bakshi. He and his wife too, had moved in, as neighbour,
a couple of years, after them, and had settled there since.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Young Naina had been a hopeless
romantic by nature. She always wanted to love first and marry later. Her friends teased her saying, “Where are you
going to find your dream hero girl? Wish that happens and soon.” Naina was so
obsessed with her dream that her voracious reading was directed only to
romantic novels. She used to search for the protagonist in those books in every
man she met! Friendly by nature, she also had men friends and a couple of them had
also shown interest in her beautiful self...however, none of them identified
with the ‘hero’ of her dreams. Graduation, now on the threshold, her heart
started feeling a strange hopelessness... God, she thought, it seems there is
never going to be a ‘first love’...never for me!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
And then it was all over fast. The want of a first love, her way! Her fate
and destiny decided.D-day came. She went with the flow. Married now, much
against her unspoken will, she walked ‘home’ with ‘him’, Mr. Aman Virani, her
husband!<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Mr. Virani, her husband, was a
strict disciplinarian, a typical no-nonsense guy. He was a great husband and an
even greater dad to their daughters, but very unlike Naina. For him, romance
existed only in books and movies. Soon life and its ways took toll and the want
of a first love and romance took a backseat.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Their daughters grew up fast.
Before she even realised they had flown the nest with their partners. Mr.
Virani and she were now alone. Life had become very mechanical. Their interests
throughout had been so different that even when they sat in the same room, it
was hours of silence. He was always into TV or news on current world affairs,
while she, her romantic novels. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Maybe because she had so much
respite now, she realised, the small
hidden flame of that long lost want, of ‘falling in love’, the romantic way,
flickered, yet!!! Though, living that past dream and aspirations only through
reading books was all that was left of it now! <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
She had always envied the life
and togetherness of Col and Mrs. Nisha Bakshi. Both of them seemed to be eternally in love.
They went everywhere together, theatre, movies, shopping, just anywhere. Their
children, a son and a daughter, brought up so lovingly by them, had moved away too. Bakshi Junior, now commissioned as an officer in the Indian Army had gone
away to pick up his responsibility. Daughter Bakshi had move to the United
States after her marriage. Unfortunately,
within a few years after Col Bakshi’s
retirement, Nisha passed away. Naina had
cried more than anybody as she saw the end to a lovely romantic tale. To her, this couple epitomized ‘romantic love’<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The grief that Col Bakshi felt for his dearest Nisha on her demise, was
something she wondered if Mr. Virani would ever feel for her! Fortunate Nisha,
she used to think...to have been loved so intensely. But with her passing away,
she had noticed a void in him, though he camouflaged it with the great sense of
humour he possessed! Thus rolled on life.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
A year after Nisha’s death, Mr.
Virani also passed away with a massive cardiac arrest. She had wanted to feel
and act the pain she had seen of Col Bakshi but strangely she did not feel as
much. This insensitivity for her departed better-half had brought in another
realisation, that of a lack of love for the man she shared a lifetime with! so
what was it she felt for him? Only empathy, in all these years? Strangely though, it did
create a certain vacuum in her plain and hassle-free life. All alone to fend
for her otherwise well-provided life now, she had reached out to ask help of her daughters.
They did for a while, but their own family commitments did not allow them to
communicate as frequently. Also they were much too far to come running to her
calling. Thus alone, she pushed forward, every single day.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
One day, alone at the market,
struggling to hold onto the umpteen shopping bags, she had found another hand
gently taking the bags from her. “Don’t worry Mrs. Virani. I will carry them. I
am going home too.” It was Col Bakshi. She gently resisted, but his charming persuasion
allowed her to abide. Gratefully, she had invited him for a coffee back home, and
he had merrily accepted.Soon there were many occasions
where both of them found themselves reaching for each other’s help. Gradually,
they discovered, they shared many a
similar interest too. When the mutual greeting of Mr. Bakshi and Mrs Virani
changed to Vijay and Naina, was something that left, even them, wondering! Now,
they were seen together everywhere, be it for walks in the parks, movies and theatre,
shopping for vegetable or groceries or
just watching TV over snacks and coffee, at each others, they were always
together.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
And then, her dream ‘happened’.
Naina was in love! Love for the ‘first time’ in her life of sixty-five years! The
minute it struck, another equally unnerving feeling too struck her senses... a heady feeling of
butterflies in the stomach combined with a disturbing mixed one of fear,
anxiety and shame......Gosh, she thought, I have been
waiting to feel this all my life and it has come but when, When I am sixty something,
a widow, and a mother to two married daughters? don’t I have any shame?’. She
got up and went about, thinking through the day. Vijay had noticed her fearful
and shy stares and asked after her health and well-being.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Soon, the stories of their togetherness had reached all ears, so there was no wonder on
what followed. Their children, who never bothered how their single parent
lived, travelled all the way home, to rebuke them on their doing. They proved
they had ‘education’ but no ‘learning’ as none of them empathised either with
their parent’s loneliness or their need for companionship. They did not
understand that this relation was much above a passing fling, which they termed
it now and then! After they left, for a while, both Vijay and Naina, tried her best to live by their
children’s wish, but soon, and on Col’s
insistence, they started moving out together again. After a while, the children
stopped nagging, rather, they now completely disassociated with the two.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
A year passed by. Naina, her ‘falling in love’, fulfilled was still
conventional by nature and often wished Vijay gave their relation another
dimension, if not for her, for the Society’s sake. The thought was weird even
to her, but she now strongly wanted to see the end of her dream. Love, ending
in marriage was the ‘completion’ of her romantic dream. However, she never had Vijay showing any
inclination to her beside being his kind and loving self and her woman ego
would not let her tell him of her wish....So, with her one-sided feeling of
enormous love for this man, life moved on.
She had found her ‘first love’ but had ‘love’ noticed?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
And today, she was sixty-five!
Sixty-five and with Vijay by her side....Vijay, the first love of her life! She
had never felt this way for anyone before. How she wished from the time she
realised it, that he would want it as bad too! But he never went beyond being that
best and caring friend, except last evening......Last evening, though, she had
found Vijay a little distant while she was sharing her day-story with him and
on one or two occasions she had caught him staring at her in a strange but loving way. Totally enamoured, she secretly
hoped for her want to materialise...But that was all!<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Infact, this morning when she had
gone to ask him to get her plumbing repaired, he had not even opened the door
and she had feared the worst! She had been upset and hurt since morning.....She
had not seen him the whole day...Twice she had rung his doorbell and twice she
had been shooed away. So when her doorbell had rung at 11.45 pm, she had woken
up from her bed with a scare.She had switched on the light and
had slowly gone to open the door....He stood there, her Vijay with a cake, he
said he had baked, especially for her, a bouqet and a small gift-box.. Oh, so he had remembered her birthday! She was pleasantly surprised.
In the next 10 plus minutes, he had set up everything, from cake and candles to
the tape and now she was cutting that cake, tears of joy streaming down her
face. He fed her a piece, she bit it then he did! He then hugged her and handed
her the big bouquet.<br />
<br />
As she got up and turned to put the flowers in the vase,
she heard him gently call her name.....She turned and stared and stared, sweet
ripples running through her body! He stood there, the box open with a dazzling
solitaire inside.....a ring, a ring for her? She smiled. He walked to her and
brought out the ring even as he took her hand, kissed it and asked her “Naina,
my dearest, will you be mine forever? We share such a beautiful togetherness,
shall we give it a name?<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Oh yes”, answered a radiant sixtyfive
year old, beaming Naina, her ‘young’ heart pounding, her dream fulfilled!!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Author : Archana Mujumdar Tambe</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-69161343688139229932014-01-06T21:34:00.002-08:002014-01-14T22:11:41.539-08:00DEMENTED : SHORT STORY 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
hello ppl,<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.feminafastfiction.com/gallery/demented/">http://www.feminafastfiction.com/gallery/demented/</a> <br />
<br />
http://www.feminafastfiction.com/gallery/remorse/<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
DO READ IF YOU LIKE FICTION!! LUK FORWARD TO FEEDBACK N COMMENTS<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-35574876991876712782014-01-01T09:00:00.001-08:002014-01-13T02:31:33.947-08:00Straight from the heart..........9..........(Telephone Etiquette)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
“Etiquette means behaving yourself a little better than
is absolutely essential “</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
(Will Cuppy quote)</div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaMV8odoPU3N3OpSuA2MSJTr3h1jhfd_4Ef9cstzStj9VmUx9cjQnz-CU6lrWMx8kmhZjoxAN0eHcxEFDNtKVdW5wrW0k4TFUIaVCsE5CgCsZ5DyMl0Hx8_Nk9if_j3un-PmbM9WGt60fp/s1600/DSCN2601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaMV8odoPU3N3OpSuA2MSJTr3h1jhfd_4Ef9cstzStj9VmUx9cjQnz-CU6lrWMx8kmhZjoxAN0eHcxEFDNtKVdW5wrW0k4TFUIaVCsE5CgCsZ5DyMl0Hx8_Nk9if_j3un-PmbM9WGt60fp/s1600/DSCN2601.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
You may call it whatever you like etiquette or decorum, but
certain things in life need to be executed in a manner, which is becoming of
them. There are some ‘Do’s” which must be done exactly as they are expected to
be done.....by the 'caller' in a phone-call or the sender of a formal/ general sms.</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
The first must-do is announcing your name at the end of a greeting! ‘Disclosing’ your name,
immediately after greeting the person on the other side is something
each caller must do! Many a time I have people calling me up after
ages and then irritatingly asking “Guess, who?" or “recognised me?” as if they are Amitabh Bachchan with that definitely recognisable
voice. Then when you say, Sorry, but I have not, they waste another couple of
minutes coaxing you to guess....Not only is one fiddlesticks on the guessing
end but most likely offended, or then, extremely irritated! Sometimes the level of irritation is so much
that one is just compelled to tell the other side that they have reached a
wrong number or just shutting out!<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
For people who are in the habit of playing this ‘peekaboo’
games, please understand that the person who you called, may be absorbed in some engaging activity or something requiring his immediated attention and not in a mood for stupid time-consuming games! He/She
may be in a pensive frame of mind, seriously occupied, may not have your
number saved by name, or may have lost or displaced their earlier cell bearing
your number and/or name. Moreover, what does one
gain by wasting someone’s time in these guessing games?Because if the person
cannot guess your name, you don’t want to converse? When you are conversant with
someone on an everyday basis, they would know by your greeting or number as to
who is calling them, but if you are especially calling someone after ages,
please disclose your identity first! It is a ‘MUST’.</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
The next ‘must do’ I would request all to follow is to
please sign your name in a formal message or greeting sent via sms so that the
person on the receiving side knows who it comes from. There are so many
festivals and special days throughout the year when we send greetings in form
of sms to all our friends, relatives and acquaintances. I have found that people
forget to sign these messages with their names. Probably they think that the
person receiving the message has their number saved with name so it should not
be necessary to do so....Wrong!!! For the same reasons such as above, like either
having lost or misplaced their earlier cell or long gaps between communication,
the person on the receiving end may not have your number. And also, everytime,
it may not be possible to call that number and find out who sent the message as the
purpose of even the sender sending it is defeated! The best thing to do,
therefore, is to please sign your name below and make it easy for the reader to
read and reciprocate! Infact, this is best followed for any kind of sms, if you
are not in touch on a regular basis.</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; text-align: justify;">
Small little things these, but they mean so much! Life is, even otherwise, so stressful....why not make it simpler? </div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-62801948822303560832013-12-22T22:39:00.000-08:002014-01-13T02:38:50.135-08:00Straight from the heart..........8..........(The International Postgrad syndrome!)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK6Vt9oVtpsZr8naapCQ31u243e94-F5Oh6zCnMKzOPIhuUijdyNX8J1IfGOsPiDhLbmzUEv2IvzATxnAXdQgrVLpK4agF7v6ME9m6FX72pujxJVkYWtg54nzG_6EcCEaN4i4-kD-C0ouz/s1600/masters-degree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK6Vt9oVtpsZr8naapCQ31u243e94-F5Oh6zCnMKzOPIhuUijdyNX8J1IfGOsPiDhLbmzUEv2IvzATxnAXdQgrVLpK4agF7v6ME9m6FX72pujxJVkYWtg54nzG_6EcCEaN4i4-kD-C0ouz/s320/masters-degree.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Your son’s completed BE, has he
not? So, when does he plan to apply for MS?” This is a common question I faced
after my son had completed his BE, as if it were the only thing to do, naturally
, after a graduation in Engineering.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I have been thinking, ever since
my son entered his Engineering College as to why are we, Indians, so hell bent
on pushing our children to the USA/Europe or somewhere abroad? Is it really for
that education and learning or from a craze of having a child settling down in
the USA/Europe or somewhere abroad? Especially because the children, after they qualify, generally do not return. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Many of us will argue here and
justify about the ‘quality’ of life,
relevant of these countries, but is the life in India so bad that you chuck
away the roots of your base existence for all those material comforts, calling
your very own country dirty and non-worthy of your
residence, when you prefer to being second-class citizens with "dignity", elsewhere???......A country looked up to, by the whole world for its sound cultural heritage and other deep-rooted values??.
And is it not from this very country you qualified with the minimum that is
required of an MS or equivalent outside?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Long ago, there was an opinion of
not enough opportunities in this country. In the time, when we graduated, this
arguement still held good, but is it the same today? Are there not enough
opportunities and scope in various other fields as well, which did not even exist some
thirty odd years ago? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Under the circumstances, what
then is the ‘carrot’ that pushes most of our youth to these countries? I wonder
how many of the children, residents for centuries by reasons of their origin, from these very countries pursue an MS?
My guess is that more than 75% of their MS revenue comes from Indians!!
Does that not speak for the prosperity of our "developing' nation?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b>And with pride I say, we have Indian parents working hard to meet the
education requirements of their children by earning in rupees, in India, and
paying in dollars!! An earning made from their basic education in India and
Indian rupees!! Not all these parents have an MS themselves!!Infact, these parents are from those times, when there were not enough opportunities in our very own 'developing' nation....They are an example on values worth a mention here ......about how hardwork and dedication can never go wrong!!</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><o:p></o:p></b>Another question that comes to
the mind is, are all MS grads, now
settled in the USA/Europe/elsewhere, capable of educating their children in that
same way? Especially under the
Economic scenario which is true
of these countries today? And
opportunities there? Are they the same as they were thirty years ago? Inspite
of it all, what is the big attraction of a post-grad outside? Sadly, I find, it
is more the parents drive than that of their children, of pushing the child towards an
international post-graduation!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Personally, I am an academic
freak myself, with an utmost love for every child to have the best education, at all costs! But
certainly not freaky enough to push him somewhere, beyond his/her wish to
acquire somethingwhich would take them
away forever from that, which is the really what this life is all about!!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
No, I have no wish that they
cling on to us for everything......but the bonding with family and friends that
they grew up with, the World that they love and was theirs once, the warmth and
comfort of their loved ones, that they seek from time to time, the secure
feeling of their elders being at a stone’s throw, should they ever need them, all
this and more, should not be lost to
them, certainly not for some cold material possessions!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Lines from Pankaj Udhas’s song “chitthi
aayi hai.... ..” are sweet and powerful, meaningful and they sum up the above
just so simply!!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
“<span style="color: #330000; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">Pahale Jab Tuu Khat Likhata tha<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #330000; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">Kaagaz Men Cheharaa Dikha taa
Thaa<br />
Band Huaa Ye Mel Bhii Ab To, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #330000; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">Khatam Huaa Ye Khel Bhii Ab To”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #330000; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">“Tuune Paisaa Bahut Kamaayaa, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #330000; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">Is Paise Ne Desh Chhudaayaa<br />
Panchhii Pinjaraa Tod Ke Aajaa, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #330000; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">Desh Paraayaa Chhod Ke Aajaa<br />
Aajaa Umar Bahut Hai Chhotii, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #330000; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IN;">Apane Ghar Men Bhii Hain Rotii,”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-60563352637376582122013-10-17T23:13:00.000-07:002014-01-13T02:43:12.153-08:00My very own poetry book............7.............Cyclone Phailin<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Uprooted trees, overturned trucks, dead power
lines on pole</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Almost 12 million humans tormented, death numbers
taking toll</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">All because Mother Nature, had played
her vital role </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">In causing Cyclone Phailin to injure every
soul!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">At 220 kilometres per hour speed , it struck ‘Odisha’
ground,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Damages caused thereafter, no place else
to be found!!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Cos two lakh dwelling houses , two lakhs
of agri land,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Disappeared in a jiffy with the wave of
the “Phailin “wand</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">The Defence forces deployed, to
help out day and night</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">In evacuating so many, they had put up a brave fight</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Inspite of all the
valor displayed, should efforts go in vain</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Or will then, those be nurtured , who dwell in grief and pain!</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexE3rtZ1KG6-YRUGcVqMnUDgDkHKHNu3yFOi9_vV6dNw_U1kJcKq73o1bjDb51i1is3Kzy4KfWWk3g0jcdxDZtI0c67YRZoVIDj3qnnCtYXxHqjvomDIx9lTItoNbGw6OJMoQu9wLKmLh/s1600/Cyclone-Phailin-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexE3rtZ1KG6-YRUGcVqMnUDgDkHKHNu3yFOi9_vV6dNw_U1kJcKq73o1bjDb51i1is3Kzy4KfWWk3g0jcdxDZtI0c67YRZoVIDj3qnnCtYXxHqjvomDIx9lTItoNbGw6OJMoQu9wLKmLh/s320/Cyclone-Phailin-4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-88942101607639149882013-10-16T21:26:00.002-07:002013-10-16T21:27:27.875-07:00My very own poetry-book......6..................The Muse.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">In the corner of an old museum, lay this very old crate ,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">With olden golden
artifacts, and statues delicate</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Inquisitive was I to see why they were of no use</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">To my pleasant surprise, in it, I found this
pretty little “muse”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Dressed in a robe of exquisite fabric, on her head a crown of gold</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">She seemed to
be gazing at the violin in her hand, which, however looked old</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">The bed she
sat, weaved in golden straw,
the quilt that lay on it too,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">The litte dog that sat beside, seemed to watch her every move.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">I looked up
here and there to see, if someone was
around,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Sure now that
I was alone, I swung her up, on the ground</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">How long had
she been there now, I started to wonder,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Only a year
or two was it, or many years yonder?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Gazing at her
intently, I wished to know her tale,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">As also of
the sculptor who carved this damsel
frail</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Which child
of Zeus and Mnemosyne, did he have in his mind? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Of all their
nine daughters, which one was of his kind?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Was she the
one from Literature or Science or from
Art? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="tab-stops: 406.5pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Or was she just a “water nymph” he sculpted part by part? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Greek
goddesses these Muses are, their tales as child, I'd heard,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">For source of
inspiration they’re known,
in myths or in poet’s words.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Why does it
feel, standing there , that she may come
to life?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Or the silent hall re-sounding, with her
violin strumming rife</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Would she
walk away from here then, to where
she’s meant to be?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">To the
heavenly abode where her heart is, to her World of melody?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">And what
about the sculptor, the one who carved her charm</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Was he still somwhere around here, or had he come to
any harm</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">If only could
I meet him someday, for over an hour or two</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">To hear his
tale of this creation and give him his deserved due!!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
(C) Archana Tambe</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-45644899159408555082013-10-15T21:55:00.004-07:002013-10-18T00:00:52.811-07:00My very own poetry-book......5..................In retrospect!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Watching the evening Sun on the beach, one
cold wintry day,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">My thoughts drifted to the past, in a
soft and breezy way</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Some memories so vivid and clear, some
so dull and hazy,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Enough though to paint before, a picture
bright and rosy!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">With schoolbag in her hand and hair tied
in pigtails,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Off to School and friends she went, to share her girly tales,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">where a
life she lived and thought, was her centre-stage,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Oh what a time that it was, what an era, what an age!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">At every School event, her participation was a must,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Tried to put on a great show, no talent she let rust!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Her strength were her parents, encouraging to the core</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">“never will I let them down,” was something to herself,
she swore.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">That she was true to her oath, was
something she did prove,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Honoured by School as the Best-student, what more could she do?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">But
honour brings with it, responsibility of a lifetime to shoulder</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">A character to hold upright and never to
let it molder</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Thus school days soon
over, College days came on,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">New horizons to conquer, olds bygone;</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">To struggle just as hard once more, to
ignore power or pelf,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">To do all those things just as right, to be able to
boost herself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Lots and lots of work then, and also lots of play,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Moments were so joyous, moments were so gay,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Thus rolled on sweet Life, but all good things must end</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Once again the” best student,” here, her onward “life” to fend</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">In all these lovely years, she realizes today,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">T’was the family and friends, that helped
her make her way</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Pray , who is this girl then, whose tale
I am writing?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Gosh, none other than ‘me’ it is, with my continued spirit of fighting.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">Fortunate, am I not then, to have a family so
loving and devoted?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">No wonder then, that I stand so tall,
with my values so deep-rooted!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span lang="EN-US">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-77692274537386345342013-10-11T23:19:00.002-07:002013-10-11T23:44:29.885-07:00 Straight from the heart.............7.............(Domestic chore...whose task?)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Sometime ago, I was visiting some of my
friends.</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">One of the friend’s children a
boy and a girl, now </span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">grown ups, working
at their respective jobs were in a heated discussion. I have seen these </span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">kids grow and more out of the friendly
relation we share, I intervened to find out what their topic of this heated
discussion was.</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">I wasn’t very surprised,
though, to learn about it. It was the most common situation seen with the young
working couples of today ie in a marriage, which of the two, must take on the
domestic chores since both were almost equally qualified, both worked fulltime
and both reached home, almost at the same time. And all this, when they are
still to begin on family!!!!</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I have seen so many of these couples adjust with each other
in whatever ways they can, when they live alone ie as a nuclear family but when
they are subjected to adjustment in a joint family system, problems start
cropping up, as the “lady” in such situation is expected to take on all of the
domestic responsibilities, never mind, how much and how hard she works outside
of home. Of course, there are some girls who manage all of that and how, some
willingly too, while some others, maybe
a little grudgingly, and why not??<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Everything in the environment is slowly and steadily
changing, so isn’t it time that we too change the age old customs with which a
boy and girl were brought up sometime ago? Yes, few of the elders in many such
joint families, today, have accepted this
fact and we therefore see that the older
women in many a home, do try and help
out their working daughters-in-law, in whichever way they can!! But still, a
major portion of our Society’s older generation are driven to believe that
whatever a lady may take up to endeavour outside of her home, the domestic
chores have been, are and should be, only and only her responsibility. “Sons
will be sons and men will be men” is what these people are bound to say. Now
whatever does that mean? Today, a girl spends an equal amount of time and
effort to acquire the degree that these “sons” and “men” do!!Therefore , she
too aspires to make it big in her chosen field of work, as much as the boy does. Therefore, she not only needs
but deserves to be helped out by her husband as well as others in her family,in all the domestic chores! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Having said this this in her favour, more so, because of need of change expected to be seen
in the behaviour of present day family system, does it mean it is alright
for her to deny all her domestic responsibilities and feign complete ignorance
about them? I know of some girls who
take pride in saying that they neither know to cook nor do other house
chores. “I am an Engineer or Doctor or 'some other professional', you know,” they
say (as if what they qualified to be is unique and the only thing required to
be done in this life(?)) and therefore I have never had the time to learn to cook or be
familiar with any household chores. In fact, I have never done any domestic
chores in my home before I was married!!" True that this could possibly have
been a very difficult time to manage “educating” oneself both ways, but,
sometime later, would it not be necessary
to be as competent and qualified in this 'career' as much as in a 'career' of their
choice? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Aren’t our very basic necessities food, clothing and shelter?
Yes, we do have restaurants, dabbas, dhabas etc to cater to our food
arrangements as a couple alone, but will this continue even after we begin our
family? Would we have our infants and todlers eat foodstuffs from the outside? Would these
“qualified” parents have enough time to learn about coping with these
“life learnings” with a growing family, when they did not seem to have enough time in all their
years of growing up?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">So then, will the 'Parents' of these boys and girls insist on these “learnings” without pampering
their “professional education seeking wards” ?? Because, as I see, it is not
only the children but also the parents
who have a casual approach towards this attitude of their “work shirking”
children. Instead of downloading domestic tasks on their children from a very
young age, they protect their wards from even getting exposed to them. I know
of some people that find it weird that a child has to be taught to shop
for the daily vegetables and groceries. They feel that asking their child to do
a domestic task will put the child off from their studies. Both the girl and
the boy children are heavily pampered!!! I think we, as parents are equally
responsible for seeing that both our children are brought-up in the same way in
respect of everything, be it education or be it the domestic chores! We cannot
expect to take stands only when issues wrt the above crop up in their marriage.
Today, it is more important that the parents make their wards understand that
there is no difference between their boy-child or girl-child, that there are no
defined codes of domestic responsibilities, rather “sharing” them together
lovingly as one unit will go a long way in
creating a strong familial bond. It is not the “who” but the “how” that
will make happy homes. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Just as the “ working wife” will partner her husband in all
fiscal matters of making a home, the “working husband” too must do his bit in
sharing the domestic chores for the family, not to mention, the children coming
in later, must, also be moulded in to contribute their bit and gradually to
take on these “true and necessary life learnings”.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Having said all this for and about the “educated and both
working” class of the young, let us also not forget the fulltime housewife, the
woman having the “ultimate career” of them all!!!......That she does not work
outside of home , does not mean that she is any less occupied! Infact her duties are both timeless and
thankless!! She is on duty right from the moment she wakes up till the time she
can finally make it to bed and call it a day!! Please do not think that she
does not need you all to put in your bit to help her help you each day. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">In the words of C.S.Lewis,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #181818;">“The homemaker has the
ultimate career. All other careers exist for one purpose only - and that is to
support the ultimate career. ” </span></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-41071693800438236392013-10-08T23:59:00.002-07:002013-10-09T00:11:59.101-07:00My very own poetry-book......4..................Silver bounty<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Silver bounty<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Have you walked in the
dark, on a moonlit night?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">With the silver shine
making all things bright?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Has the beauty of that
moon, ever touched you so<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">That it completely
grips you, from head to toe?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Have you felt like reaching
out, to embrace this silver moon,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Whose intoxicating silver
charm, makes you almost swoon?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Have you thought of your
love, being beside you then?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Or love appearing suddenly,
on a quick count of ten?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Has “her” beauty dazzled
you so, that you continue to stare?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">No pangs of hunger nor
thirst, no, nothing to beware?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Did you gaze at yourself then,
or the silver in your hair,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Or the silver trees with
silver leaves , silver everywhere?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Just beyond this road you walk, a silver beach you will see,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Further on, as you go by,
silver waves will greet ye!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Priceless than, isn’t this
silver, that money cannot buy?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">No GoldMarts can display
this, its only in the sky!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">No shopping for this silver
then, no going on a spree,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">This beautiful Nature’s
bounty, bestowed on us for free<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-67924381608363704152013-10-07T23:20:00.001-07:002013-10-07T23:20:43.936-07:00Storytimes: FB 5 : Straight from the heart ......3..........Fr...<a href="http://archanatambe.blogspot.com/2013/09/friends-n-friendship-real-or-vitual.html?spref=bl">Storytimes: FB 5 : Straight from the heart ......3..........Fr...</a>: Just a few days ago, a young friend of mine asked me to write about how much people were getting addicted to "virtual friendships&...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-72215155055779202252013-10-07T23:07:00.003-07:002013-10-07T23:07:45.949-07:00Storytimes: Straight from the heart............5.................<a href="http://archanatambe.blogspot.com/2013/10/straight-from-heart5-being-mom.html?spref=bl">Storytimes: Straight from the heart............5.................</a>: We had a family get together a few days back. It was a gathering of Moms of almost three generations, should I say?? I love these gathering...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-27329407809173471062013-10-07T23:07:00.001-07:002013-10-07T23:07:21.434-07:00Storytimes: STRAIGHT FROM THE HEART.......6.......(Are we real...<a href="http://archanatambe.blogspot.com/2013/10/straight-from-heart.html?spref=bl">Storytimes: STRAIGHT FROM THE HEART.......6.......(Are we real...</a>: A couple of day ago, I saw this movie named Rush.....Most of you reading this one, already must have seen and read a thousand good review...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-44165142069319205382013-10-07T06:27:00.003-07:002013-10-07T07:44:16.860-07:00STRAIGHT FROM THE HEART.......6.......(Are we really be Masters of our "own will"?)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;">A couple of day ago, I saw this
movie named Rush.....Most of you reading this one, already must have seen and
read a thousand good reviews about this movie.
The passion, grit , determination and above all, “a strong will” makes
this movie more than just “inspiring”, true, but after I watched it, what I realised apart
from all of this was what was it that most of our Country’s youth of today and the future of tomorrow, our little men and
women, lack!!!! And I find , it is nothing but the power to be the “masters” of
their own will and be able to follow and live up to that!!</span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;">And all not because they dont have a "wiil", but because of the a solid
family-value based, strong traditional
culture following and an equally responsible social and political
environment which makes up for the
Society we live in!!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;">Every child grows up with a dream
of who he/she would like to be in the years to come. Professions coming only
out of academics is not every person’s dream, rather, barring a few, in that young age one would like to be just
anything , that does not require a person to
have to dig in their giant-sized,
uninteresting books, all the time........
Not to mention that most of us parents too wish we could let the child just
take on their dream and live it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;">But in reality, does this happen?
How many common children we know who liked to be musicians, dancers, sports persons,
artists , actors and so on so forth actually get there? At some point in the
earlier stage of life, when we have seen/met them , we have see that passion
oozing out of them, for that , which they aspire to be!!! Why then, after some
time, is this all replaced by only academic degrees and jobs for most? And when
I say this, I am not talking of those few children, who have the strong emotional, financial and every other support and backing, from their immediate well-to-do family and/or
friends neither am I speaking of the
child prodigees. I am talking of the "common child" of a “common man” who works 24x7x365
and who has also every “right” to
his/her own dreams. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: right;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;">So then what really happens that
the child has to be dragged back to thinking
not about “living a life” but “making a life” for themselves? My thoughts around it pushes me to draw the following conclusions:</span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="background-color: white;">1 1)<span style="font-size: 7pt;"> </span><!--[endif]-->In
India, there is nothing as important as getting an academic degree because ,
getting a degree means you will surely get a “job” of sorts and that will
ensure that you “make your life”, somehow!!! Doing anything different form this
“set-code” means taking a very big risk. What if walking on the path of one's choice, you fail in the eyes of
the World, your peers and you don’t earn enough to sustain for yourself and your
family? Of course, today, due to media
exposure, reality shows etc , wherein they show
children participating and winning dance, acting, music, photography, cookery etc , both parents and the children are motivated
to resort to other options but the
question of whether this would finally
result in carving “livelihood” remains like a hundred , nay, thousand dollar question!</span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="background-color: white;">2 2)In
some rich orthodox families, even if the
child has both a passion and a flair and wants to give a try to his dream, will
the traditional families allow them without threatening the child with dire consequences
like being thrown out of the family and family
inheritance or boycotted or some such
equally ruthless act. Remember the Hindi classic ,"Parichay" days?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -18pt;">3 3)</span><span style="font-size: 7pt; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; text-indent: -18pt;">If
a child does decide to “act” as per their will, are the government and other
bodies geared with enough equipment to support this dream vide monetary
assistance to him/her if and when required at any stage? ie would, they ,at least, provide for the basic necessities for survival of
this child, as and when required, right from the time he/she starts
till the stage he/she settles down in the passion and makes the best of it?
Would it provide some kind of reassurance to the parents that there is nothing
to fear wrt the future of this child?</span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="background-color: white;">4 4)Can “emotional
blackmail”to the child be avoided by the family? In some families a child is not even
allowed to join “Defence Services” leave alone, pursue another line.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">y The </span><span style="background-color: white;"> point I am making here is , the West where the young (in their
early teens too) are the “masters” of their own will , unafraid of what the future will be and living by the day
is because the socio-political environmental factors are so very conducive to
their approach towards life. The family bonding too isvery different from her, because it is commonplace for the children, in the first place, to leave their homes very
early and to take on the responsibility of their own life . On the other hand, In our country, we
are molly-cuddling children even after they have attained adulthood and the
children too thrive in it....They choose to be "adults" or then, "dependants" as per convenience of which of these suits them best at a given point of time!!!</span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;"> Therefore, by and large, in our type of countries, such grit,
motivation , determination and passion along with one’s own strong will is
found mostly of those that generally
suffer from lack of basic amenities and necessities required to pursue a good education, are put in charge to take care of family at a very early age or lack
of food , clothing and shelter or some equally horrendous reason!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;">I am not
saying that a few from the well-to-do families too may not come up with something
different and spectacular, but, in most
cases, it is “one in a million situation”.
No wonder then, that we suddenly see a student from the hutments topping in some
board exams or doing something equally unexpected of him/her! As for the rest,
we find they do exactly what is expected of them, ie the rich and funded class
of children graduating from best technical or management schools abroad, some others taking
the age old professions of teaching, engineering, medicine etc etc, which they
qualify for, after spending their best years of life with their heads in their
books and the others digging into whatever they can lay their hands on,
academically to “make a living”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 18.0pt; text-align: justify;">
Thus, while I
agree, that the parents must “gift” our children their life to do what they
they“will” to do and not live their life as per the “standard” norms, I must
also stress on the point that, then there is so much else in the environment that
must simultaneously change to give every parent that confidence , that whatever the child
takes on, there will always be hundreds and thousands of “opportunities” for
the child in that sphere, and at no point will the child feel despair or
regrets about doing what they chose and set out to do. We, as parents, will
always stand by our children in every walk of life, but we cant hold their
hands till the end, can we? What all
parents want or ever wanted is the happiness of their children, not short-term
but very long-term, ie until till life’s end, and while nobody other than them would be
happier to let the child have their own will. However, given the present circumstances, they can only hope and pray for a change of environment, conducive to suit the
child’s “will” and hope to see and experience, all of that, in their lifetime as well!!!</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-28692025322189012232013-10-02T22:44:00.003-07:002014-01-05T21:19:59.751-08:00Straight from the heart............5.................. (Being Mom!!!!!)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;">We had a family get together a few days back. It was a gathering of Moms of almost three generations, should I say?? I love these gathering where the family catches up on so many happenings from old times (our childhood) vis-avis today. There are also discussions (sometimes even heated.........:)) on the “how’s” of the unfores</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #37404e; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.99715805053711px;">een future of their children. The do’s and dont’s that you grew up listening to then and learning to value even today, are once again hammered through you! But the learnings from such discussions have been useful tips to me in “parenting” a profession taken for granted, but, not even understood by many!!! Like I always say to myself, had I worked harder, been more capable of handling the Corporate politics better (which I personally loathe), probably done many refreshers and so on so forth, achieveing a better work status would have been a “not-so-difficult” task, but if I had failed as a Mom,(of course, I mean in my own eyes) I would not have been able to leave this planet in peace.....<i class="_4-k1 img sp_2a7397 sx_29d9ed" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yc/r/ERwAtiRKR7Q.png); background-position: -43px -697px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i><br />So what is this success all about? Success, even in parenting, is different things to different people and therefore people may relate to it differently. In simple words what I mean is are we able to be a “fair” if not a “good” parent ie are we capable of saying ”yes” and “no” to children as and when we feel it is needed to be done for their own good or are we in “popularity contests” with our peers who may think that we are too strict with our children? Do we take cognizance of “their” counsel on how we must “behave” with our children? Is it not enough that since we know our own child from birth (and better in all ways than anybody from amongst them), we will do all to give him/her a good life?<br />To cite a few examples to share the point I am making...........<br />There was this little boy whose Mom gave him only Indian balanced diet in his lunch-box right from when he was a little boy. Now, there were some family/friends of his mother who “aww....ed” it, as if it were an issue. The lunch-boxes of their kids always carried junk foodstuff, and their Moms explained with pride(?) that their children did not eat “such stuff” as our little boy here did! Today we see them all grown up and the Moms moan about the children not eating anything healthy as they must!!! If we think about it deeply, are these children really to blame? Why did the Mothers not be a little more strict with the nutrition and dietary habits of these children??Was it to escape from the trouble “they” would have to go through to both make and feed the child that food or from the “nagging” of that child? Yes, It is a very time consuming and boring affair to some, as, every little child is different from the other in so many ways, he/she may be have to be told a story or may have to be actually spoon-fed as he/she ran around, I know , but is it not worth it? Especially since “taste” for anything develops at a very young age? You, the parent may not be the “creator” but you certainly are the person that has the then required influence to “mould” that creation? Health aspects, which come up in life , ages later, are already there today with so many young people .We blame it all on the stress factor alone , but truly that is not all!<br />Food habit inculcation, alone, is only one aspect of “Being Mom!” There are many others , “material possessions” too, being one of them!!! Peers again.................The second and most important aspect is how you jell with your child ........In other words , are you and your child comfortable with each other in respect of all aspects viz social, environmental and most importantly personal? Are you, as a parent, vigilant enough to notice your child moving away, behaving in strange ways, being lonely or unsocial at home, not “responding” to you or anybody at home, in the way he/she must? Do you actually “go away” when asked to, by a teenager, who wants time alone, like in the West? Will you not go to him/her at such times and get out that , which bothers their little mind because they are “unaware” of their own feelings/reactions and to that so much happening around them?I hear most Moms tell me, “but you know what, the child is not comfortable to do that” and I ask myself, what, why do you even address him as a “child” then? As a parent, I think it is my duty to pursue my child’s happiness and I must go all the way to break into that wall..........I know a couple of Mothers, who go around counselling the whole World but are oblivious of what is happening to their own child! How, I ask myself, can one counsel all others, when one is not even aware of what his/her own child is going through? When we take such trouble to counsel others about their children and so on and so forth, how then, do we miss on that one that means so much to us? Are we blind or do we deliberately ignore that which is easily seen by all others? I know a child is always prepared to easily listen to another person than his own Mom/Dad but that does not happen suddenly! And if it has, it means , somewhere along the way, you missed on being “that friend, philosopher and guide” to your child or have been caught with your own personal agenda too much?? Then there are some others who love to socialise or go roaming around so much that their own commitments towards their own children becomes an “agenda” for them. They are so taken in by the appreciation of the “”World at large” that their “own small World” gets out of hand and I hear things like, “we have so much to do that there is no time for anything at home”. Such people confuse the most important agenda of their life, their child, I guess!!<br />There are many more aspects which can be looked on at a later day but I will say so much that maybe our Moms and GrandMoms did not make great career women in the eyes of this World but a career that even our generation is not capable of, “PARENTING” was something they did fantafabulously and while I am overwhelmed everytime I think of it, I feel like asking them, “Hey where are your Parenting Workshops please? I want to join and excel still, yet!!” They not only preached but practised all of that for their children to see, disciplinarians that they were!! KUDOS to you gurlz on your super career achievement “Being MOMS!”<br />And so I conclude In Ron Taffel’s words and Roy L Smith’s words which spell;<br />“Even as kids reach adolescence, they need more than ever for us to watch over them. Adolescence is not about letting go. It’s about hanging on during a bumpy ride” and that<br />“We are apt to forget that children watch examples better than they listen to preaching”</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-82193293352592743892013-10-02T22:41:00.003-07:002013-10-02T22:41:48.856-07:00Straight from the heart......4 ............(Trekking too much...the how come?????)....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div role="article">
<div class="_1x1" style="margin: 15px 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="userContentWrapper">
<div class="_wk" style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A recent question that I thought worth answering (by sharing here) to all those that asked about how we manage time/effort/money to trek so much and so often. We have always wanted to do so, but what you see today and and getting there in our circumstances, ha really taken that much time to get there and ho</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">w..........</span></div>
<div class="_wk">
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" style="display: inline;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
Sports in my school days meant only the physical education activities conducted by the School teachers or the then available indoor or outdoor games in the halls/grounds of such educational institutions or some sport gymkhanas. Badminton, Table-tennis, carrom, cricket, Athletics, football, hockey, base-ball, throw-ball and similar ones, being the most popular games to play, then! During those times the likes of today’s famous gym franchisees like “Talwalkars”, “Gold gym” “Solaris” “Endurance”, not to mention a hundred others strewn across all cities today, were never thought, seen or heard of!! So in my school times “adventure sports” , trekking, mountaineering etc were almost ruled out.............Of course , College gave us the chance to participate in NCC, which gave us an interface to airgliding, para-jumping etc, but in a limited capacity!!</div>
<div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
Sure, trekking did exist to an extent, but going out to faraway destinations with strange people was ruled out by parents (more due to their peers than anything else!!!!). I remember my mother being in awe of her superiors in the family and was always careful of not offending anybody!! So that anybody pointing an accusing finger at her for going against the “said and set” way of life of children, was nothing she would have tolerated. So whatever trails/treks were arranged by and from Schools is all we were allowed to go to..........</div>
<div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
I was both a voracious reader and a dedicated sportswoman at that time......Actually enjoyed reading about anything and everything that I could lay my hands on........though, it had to depend on book libraries and not search engines or Amazon.com....<i class="_4-k1 img sp_2a7397 sx_29d9ed" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yc/r/ERwAtiRKR7Q.png); background-position: -43px -697px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i>. So also, was with sport that was easily possible and affordable!! All in all, we did easily “do-able” things.</div>
<div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
One got to read a lot of books /articles on geography and hence dreamt of places one wished to travel......But yes, these could only be dreams then, as travel was an expensive as well as a complicated affair, especially if you meant long distance travelling. So in those days, we made the best with whatever was available and inspite of it all, was very happy to be doing that much.</div>
<div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
Time flew fast and I was now married.............</div>
<div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
Marriage brings with it a lot of responsibilities. In the beginning, between the day to day juggling of home, work-life and family-life, not to mention other innumerable other commitments/responsibilities of a then joint-family, sport and travel took a backseat!! We worked our way through life and with the salaries of those times (some 22 odd years ago), managed to save just enough for any unforeseen contingencies apart from running a home and family with its forest of relatives and friends....<i class="_4-k1 img sp_2a7397 sx_29d9ed" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yc/r/ERwAtiRKR7Q.png); background-position: -43px -697px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"></i> Anything extra for a long-distance lavish travel was not affordable...... Still, being a hard-core sports enthusiast, I used to reserve an hour of my day for an aerobic activity, which I love, even today!!!We also did some weekend spend in the places near to Pune such as Panchgani/Mahabaleshwar, nearby kokan spots, day outings etc!!</div>
<div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
Slowly the days went by and the responsibilities grew bigger(if not larger). We are a very big family and therefore a lot was expected in terms of celebrations and giveaways at the innumerable family functions , not to mention the monies to be kept aside for expenses that were to be assumed for my son, his education and other extra-curricular! Saving up for making a home on our own(which is I assume is every person’s dream) too, with no monetary help from anyone, also took a chunk of the money earned!!!</div>
<div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
So by such time, we, as a couple, thought , we were ready to do our thing, in terms of affordability angle, work commitments had taken their toll and so planning beyond tomorrow was always out of the question.......Also work circumstances were such that my husband had to not only travel but also stay in another town for a couple of years......Thus rolled life and so in the time when we had loads of our other friends and relatives travelling, trekking etc, we both were struggling to make our time/effort and money ends meet.....</div>
<div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
Then, I always dreamt of doing so many things. Sometimes, I even felt that I may never have the time left to do the things I want to do, but nothing is permanent and that phase of life ended too!</div>
<div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
Suddenly my son was a grown-up , working individual and I decided to call off “working for money” way of life!! Money, how much ever earned, is always less, needed and welcome but for me , now, my life priorities have changed. Now, its mostly about my time for me, ie. the time has come for me to take life one day at a time!!! </div>
<div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
Finally I am there and for the last couple of years, I have been doing what I always dreamt of doing.................working on and off, trekking, travelling, just lazing, reading , writing, counselling the young, doing workshops I like.....the list continues and I hope for this time to last for a long stretch!!</div>
<div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
So people, there u go.......................</div>
<div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
Reaching here has not been really easy and therefore I value this newfound free time very much!! </div>
<div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
I know that some of the people would say that just because I could manage it, it may not be possible for all. The reasons for saying this may be not only both the ‘health’ as well as the ‘monetary’ aspects, but some other binding responsibility of an elder or a young person, either dur to old age or because of their being physically/mentally challenged , demanding a 24 x 7 x 365 days attention span...........But I don’t think this would be true of all my fellow-readers here, and if one concentrates more on keeping good health by giving oneself some time to do any kind of physical activity of one’s choice(and it need not be something you have to pay for); such as an hour of walk and/or some bending-stretching excercise at home, you will all be able to do much more than I could ever dream of!!!</div>
<div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
For those of you who are not bound by circumstances beyond your control, I would say, It is neither the time or money that takes what you feel upto; (cos travel can be arranged within those constraints) but, It is merely your strong and determined will combined with your good health which will take you a long way and help you undertake all that you wish for and much more!!</div>
<div style="line-height: 18px; text-align: justify;">
So to all of you there.............”Happy trekking!”....cheers....</div>
<span class="_4-k1 img sp_2a7397 sx_29d9ed" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yc/r/ERwAtiRKR7Q.png); background-position: -43px -697px; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; font-style: italic; height: 16px; line-height: 18px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
</span></span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="fbTimelineUFI uiCommentContainer" style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #4e5665; margin-bottom: -12px; margin-left: -12px; padding-top: 3px; position: relative; width: 510px;">
<form action="https://www.facebook.com/ajax/ufi/modify.php" class="live_10152397752952715_316526391751760 commentable_item autoexpand_mode" data-live="{"seq":"10152397752952715_33881307"}" id="u_jsonp_16_c" method="post" rel="async" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="fbTimelineFeedbackHeader">
<div class="fbTimelineFeedbackActions clearfix" style="background-color: #fafbfb; border-top-color: rgb(233, 234, 237); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; padding: 8px 12px 9px; text-align: justify; zoom: 1;">
<span class="UFIBlingBoxTimeline" style="float: right; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;"><span data-reactid=".r[1y3my]"></span></span><span class="UIActionLinks UIActionLinks_bottom" data-ft="{"tn":"=","type":20}" style="color: #999999; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 12.727272033691406px;"></span></div>
</div>
</form>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-47534736009085158822013-09-15T04:25:00.000-07:002013-10-08T22:38:28.189-07:00FB 5 : Straight from the heart ......3.........(.Friends n friendships, real or virtual??)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div>
<br />
<br />
Just a few days ago, a young friend of mine asked me to write about how much people were getting addicted to "virtual friendships" then "real and personal" ones .........She seemed so concerned about losing out on the personal friendship touch, that our generation (her mom n dad's, the present day late forties or fiftties generation) seem to have had!!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Indeed, I thought....every word she expressed was so very true and unfortunately, we, the older generation too, are slowly and surely getting there, aren't we?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I remember the times when there were no mobile phones, no Internet , no Google, no, nothing at all........Reaching out to friends meant meeting and spending time with them personally(not virtually ), either for some sport in parks/gardens or rehearsing a dance/play, playing some indoor games or if nothing, just talking about anything and everything which made/dint make sense in those wonderful times..........catching up with each other was the main point of interest.........oh, those lovely lazy days with those lovely people, our dear friends!! We did meet at School, but, that meeting was not enough......we had to meet at each others places or in the park or playgrounds or just anywhere, but meeting each other, was a must...........and given a thought, maybe, it was really because there was no other way to connect..........meeting your best friend after two whole days of holiday(week-end) was unheard of! In case it was a "no, not today" from parents, we made excuses of borrowing/lending study books(and this excuse , generally, worked at all times) and went over to friends to just spend some time with them!!! Those lovely days together, talking for hours in the street, or the park, laughing endlessly about nothing, just running along to be with your friends when they needed you the most, sometimes , group-studying or helping a friend in her studies, getting to know her circle of family and near ones and connecting with them too, as your own, going to each other's places for all festivals, get togethers and any other occasions, so many many things shared or just "being there" for them..........oh, even as I pen down, I know I am still only able to do only a little on paper than what I have actually experienced with my friends of young times!!!!<br />
But wait, cos all of that was with PERSONAL MEETINGS , not virtual or through social networks............:)<br />
Those memories will , however, remain with me, for a lifetime.....</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The young ones of today do catch up on each other on an everyday basis but how!!!!!!!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
One young school boy , I overheard, telling his friend when asked, "arey where were u yesterday?, I called you but you did not reply" to which the boy answered"dint you see my facebook status?I said I was not available for the next two days as I am going out of town!!" .........FB status? now what was that? A young school going boy will inform his friend who shares his school desk everyday, that he is going out of town, via FB?? What is it all coming to? The other day I met another young boy , who , when asked, if he played any sport, answered, yes, I am the expert in play-station/video games...........Most kids spend hours on FB/other social networking sites, when all they should be doing as students, is fulfilling their academic obligations or dedicating themselves to physical sports, music, spending quality time with friends for common interesting activities........what really concerns me is also the HEALTH aspect of these individuals......when they should be out playing vigourously for building up their physical stamina or strength, they are busy idling away on FB/other social networking sites doing nothing of value for their ownselves!!!From my very own experience I have realised that the stamina building actvity needs to be started from very young ages.......yes, we can attain all of that later too, but with a hell of a lot of effort , both physical as well as monetary, which is so much easy when done young!!! and , of course, the factual realisation that the emotional fulfilment and joy that comes out of personally meeting and spending time with friends, which can never be substituted any any vitual friends on social networking sites and therefore may only be a waste of one's valuable time!!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I sincerely appeal to all my College-going/working young friends on FB to please arrange your time schedules to meet with your dear friends personally, if only for sometime........The meetings need not be heavy lunches or dinners or expensive affairs, they can just be for sharing even some small silly happenings over a coffee, to involve in some sport or interesting activity or to just exchange a polite "hello"......For the School-going ones, I suggest you take out time for each other for just about anything..........</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I want to feel like old times once again, with housing societies/streets/playgounds/parks sounding off with noisy, playful children; children here, children there and children everywhere !! and for you the mid-younger ones to make and have true friends and not end up like the joke I am concluding this with...........</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A man dies............His funeral is arranged by a family member. It so happens that the turn-out is only about ten odd heads................An onlooking outsider asks a senior family member of the deceased, "why have you arranged for a thousand chairs, when the turnout is so poor?" ..........."Because, answers the family member, he had two-thousand facebook friends......"........:):)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<div>
</div>
<br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: justify; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-41794395146991777972013-09-13T02:58:00.001-07:002013-10-18T00:07:54.213-07:00Straight from the heart .....2.........(Family time)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Recently, we planned a family weekend visit to Matheran...........my family meaning hubby and my only son, who is now a grown-up working man!! I was very excited as we had not done this for a very long time......prep for the trip were on in full swing........Sid, my son, who soemtimes works even week-ends these days, was especially asked to inform his office that he would be taking an off this once, also the same was asked of my husband....Thus, we were ready, all set to travel.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Incidentally, just a couple of days before that we were visiting our friends. In the conversation, this week-end travel topic came up and my hubby's friend just came up with this question, "what, Sid still travels on vacation with you both?'....he probably meant to ask, how come Sid accepted going out for a vacation with his parents and not friends or something like that and that's where the idea of sharing "the why" with all of you came to me......</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Life, to a large extent takes the course of associations with the past, both pleasant as well as unpleasant.........mostly, the pleasant memories are cherished, replayed by the mind and we wish that we can sometimes do those things, all over again..........I guess , in our case, weekend outings, as family, are one of them!!!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In our childhood, as far as I remember, family outings were very rare occasions and usually meant going out with family only for weddings , funerals, thread -ceremonies, other religious festivities and rarely for mere relaxation or sight-seeing or any other enjoyment...........infact, the only such outings during those times were were school picnics/excursions or going out of town for sports/dance/drama inter-school/college competitions and usually accompanied by the team colleagues and managers......there was hardly any time for sightseeing etc..... an outing for just visiting a place to actually see it was "once in a way" kind of an event.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And then, we were always in awe of our parents even during a trip, always mindful of our Ps and Qs, could never behave with the freedom or the closeness of a friend , that, my son shares with me, today!!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So when Sid was hardly 2 years old, we three began our family trips to Panchgani, Mulshi, kashid, murud-janjira, or wherever, to all those nearby places we could then afford in terms of our time and money.........Twice in a year, it was GOA (and Sid still makes it to Goa with us every year!!!!) I loved these trips as they gave us all so much time to spend with each other, thrash out stuff, laugh out together as much as we could, enjoy sport together, thus building our sweet memories for a lifetime.......Never realise how time flew by, but , in this process, we as family have bound in such a way, that, even today, a grown-up son loves to do this vacation with us........Not that he does not go out with his friends, rather, I would say, he is out for 12 hours of everyday with his colleagues/music buddies/ old school and college friends , but he has never denied us our special time together........</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Looking back, I now think, that probably, if we as children had done this often with parents too, I would have probably been looking forward to doing these small outings with them, all the time, even as an adult!!!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yes, we did speak to parents about everything , they were are guides in the true sense, but today, we not only play that role but also the role of "best buddies" with our children..............Today, my son confides more in me than I ever did with either parent and that too with so much ease!!! For me, to confide with this much freeness never ever came easy.....</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Such is the "change" in time and lifestyle and so I guess, our children , however grown-up they be or whatever they otherwise do, they would ALWAYS love to do that small vacation with their parents , their one-time and everytime "best buddies".......I have said it all now, haven't I??..........:)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-21828687163993306612013-07-22T23:19:00.003-07:002013-10-08T23:55:15.148-07:00My very own poetry-book......3................The Wisp.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<u><span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">The “wisp”<o:p></o:p></span></u><br />
<u><span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></u>
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">By Archana Sandeep Tambe<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">A sparkling twinkle, a charming face<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">A bright old gown,
covered in lace,<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">A battered hat to adorn
her crowning glory<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">A pearly grin that told her story<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">She spoke very little and always with a lisp,<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">But you could never ever miss, this sweet little wisp<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Through poverty-stricken and sad old lanes<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Houses shattered and
broken window panes<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">The wisp, she floated, her basket full of flowers,<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Smiles and cheers she brought about<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">She possessed Godly
powers<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">For who could laugh in such
times<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">When the World War was to the fore<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Only cries and tears and gloom you heard<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">As you passed by any door!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">But , the petite wisp , she sang merrily <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">And hung pretty flowers
on doors<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Waved to every soul that passed <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">As she got on with her chores<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Sad as they were, they always laughed<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">When the wisp sang her merry tune<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Be it a lady or a man or an elder<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Or be it the local prune<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Not a morsel of food did she get sometimes<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Or nothing to drink either<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Dampened never her spirits this<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Not close, not even hither<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">The village children flocked beside<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">The wisp to hear her tales,<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Smiling always, she did
abide<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">With stories from the Wales<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">When darkness fell, and when alone,<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Yes, that was when she cried<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">For her lost near and dear ones<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">For their country, who had best tried<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Hungry, ill and tired, late she fell asleep<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">To wake up to another day, to take another leap!!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-5485608924967915252013-07-22T00:46:00.003-07:002013-07-22T10:33:37.472-07:00Storytimes - Experience of a relation (topic -friend)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<u><span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">A learning experience!! - short story<o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<u><span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></u></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Arun and Sahil were good friends…they had been so for a long
long time now….much before either was married!! Sahil got to married to Anushka
when he was barely 25 .. Sahil was living in Pune with his family where his
work was….. Arun lived in another town, but work brought him to Pune… After
another ten years or so, Arun got married to Sanaya….In the meantime, Sahil was
already “Pa” with their only son Sankalp, being 8-9 yrs old. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Arun and Sanaya too began their married life and with Sahil and
Anushka they became a fivesome , doing most things together…..…It was fun
……while the newly-weds had just
started on life together, and were
making the most of it, the other couple, already well ahead in the game now, had to cope with their joint family, their
own work commitments and the most important commitment of them all, their
child!! Inspite of it all, the friends always made time for and with each other
and thus ran their lives....till their little one came along and it now became
a sixsome!!!! The little guy brought much joy into their lives as he started
growing up…….the older child had fun walking and talking him around on outdoors
and the little one doted on him , too!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Years rolled and there were no occasions in either homes without
the other friend family being present on all of them…….so much so, that they
believed to be the extended family of each other…....that did not mean though, that
either of them did not have other close friends nor that they did not spend
time with their other friend/commitments , but, yes, the time that they had
been spending with each other , irrespective of whether it was a weekday or a
weekend, whether it was early evening or late night , whether those working
from amongst them, had heavy work commitments the next day or anything at
all….they were always together and that is what had made the bond so special…….
Infact, the couple with the older child even came to be called as “everready”
by the other couple since they always kept aside their issues and made time for the other couple!! And thus built a strong friendship bond amongst them…….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">......Or so one thought……until one day………when a turn of events (and I
call this an “experience of a lifetime” for the purpose of readers), changed
that to “NeverReady”…….cos an unexpected event took place, which killed that sweet
something between them …..and it was never the same again…..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Arun and Sahil shared their birthday month too………...so it was
not unusual for the couples to celebrate
their birthday event jointly, most times…It was not as if it was an everytime
affair but it was there………..so, at those other times, when they were to be no
celebrations too, the two friends went
to each others homes on those special days even without being invited….</span><span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Surprisingly, apart from their family members, there used to be
none of the other so-called friends during those times…….maybe , either, because
those friends were too busy with their own lives or maybe they had their very
own other set of close friends then??.........Anyways, so it went with the
Arun-Sahil team for many many years until the “experience” happened!!!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Arun, being the older of the two barely by a year, had a
milestone birthday approaching soon! Sanaya was keen on celebrating the
birthday together and so she kept mentioning it to Anushka and Anushka was okay
with the idea too…….However, life on its everchanging mode was at work and new things
were happening in either friend’s lives......…..Sahil was involved in a new project
and was preoccupied with its inception, Anushka did not have fair weather at her workplace either…….Arun was
busy too and so was Sanaya, training in
a new project…..With all of the four being busy in their own commitments, the
birthday topic was completely washed away………..so much so, that Anushka even
forgot to wish Arun or remind Sahil (the always forgetful) , to wish Arun on
his birthday !!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Maybe this was the reason for Sanaya to behave in a strange way
in which she did (wonders Anushka, even today!!!!) . She intentionally (and
intentionally I say because it was an “all friends” celebration, there were no
family members involved and till that day, Anushka and family, believed to be
one of their “best friends” too…) did not invite Anushka and family (whom she told the “whole
world” was her “extended family”..........a joke, shall I say??) for a
“milestone birthday” she celebrated and that too, only with the,suddenly very
close friends from her workside(whom, she told Anushka later, had asked her to
drop them)??? Or was there another reason?? Funnily, the next day she called up Anushka
and gave some lame excuses for not having invited them; said she had invited
only two families and if they(Anushka’s family) had to be called it would be
three people too many……………….three people too many???? .........</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Now, that came as a real
shock!!!!!!! The fact that she had not invited did not seem to matter so much to
Anushka as much as this disclosure…………….Since
when had Sahil’s family become three people too many for Sanaya?? Someone, with
whom you had spent so many beautiful moments/hours/days,years, who you expected
to be ever present when you wanted their company, who never forgot to invite
you with their own siblings , when they actually could have done without you,
(as they were never necessarily invited
with the Sanaya family siblings around!!!),who were always there for you
and you for them, and whatever suddenly happened that made them three people
too many?? All because Sanaya came across some others, living in the same town
for years, she occasionally met, now
suddenly closer because of work or whatever??
What happened to those days of joint celebrations, forget that, of that
so-called “extended family” that Sanaya herself used to go about calling the
other couple??? why did all of that vanish
so suddenly??People who had been in your life for so many years, your best
friends were “not wanted” by you on your “special day”, when all they wanted was
to feel a part of your special moment??Could you forget them so blatantly? It
was not about the eats/drinks, it was about the feeling that you gave them of "not being wanted" on that special day…….and
could somebody claiming to be your best friends have skipped this simple yet
meaningful understanding of your feelings??? So then, was all the calling only when
and because you found nobody else to spend time with???? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">And know what, until today, Anushka does not know why Sanaya had
behaved in that strange way!! But, from that day on everything changed……..Now,
Anushka never felt the same comfort in continuing as if nothing had happened……..Sanaya
did try to cover up by inviting like old times etc etc, but now, it never felt
the same way………for no rhyme or reason, Sanaya had behaved strangely, she had
even invited somebody she said she was not so close to, but,, not Anushka and family; hence, now, any amount of sweet-talking, caring acts etc; made no sense, whatsoever………..</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Anushka decided
to continue being friends but certainly never felt like before as
something which did not make any sense
had happened to her from someone she thought were her closest friends, nay, “extended
family”??........</span><span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span><span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">….</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Sanaya tried to make out as if nothing had happened by making humour out of the way
Anushka and family had started behaving, calling them VIPs etc in the presence
of other common friends because now they were NeverReady??……..</span><span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">…….she gossiped with
her other friends about how Anushka’s family were stuck-up, hard, rigid beings
having no sense of humour at all, but never for once thought that they could
have been hurt with the insensitiveness she had displayed and therefore, when
Sanaya now came up with dialogues like, “are friends only for eating and drinking
together?” “should we not call up and let the other know we are ill, or need
help or “ or something equally maudlin……all Anushka did was to just smile to
herself! Where was all this “bhaichara”
when you did not even remember people you used to always hang around with, is
what she thought!!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">For a while, Anushka was so upset that she had misjudged the
relation by thinking of these people as her "best friends" ……she felt so disgusted at that she did not want to even associate, socialise or have anything to do at all! But subsequently, as time passed, she decided to try and continue
as before, but yes, she had learnt something on that day, which, which she
would remember for the rest of her life!! That something she called a “ life learning
experience”</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">She had realized that ;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">1)there is never a reason for how people will want to behave
with you at different times and for reasons/conveniences best known to them;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">2)that, they will expect you to forgive and forget anything and
everything they do unto you, quickly, as if it never happened and continue as you did in the
past;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">3)that it is wise to never expect anything , even from people
you consider your “best friends”;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">4)that people who you thought were your “best friends” may
actually have other “best friends” and you may be only those that they call on
when there is nobody else for them to spend time with; <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">4)that in whatever way the so-called friend may call you or
themselves in relation to you, it is always your siblings alone, that is you
real family and you mean the World to them!!(they would never forget you
inspite of anything and that there are no extended families!!People will help you, do you favours and later, put you under obligation by their strange behaviours!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">5)that, if your siblings were to do any such thing to you, you
have a right to thrash it out with them and find out the true reasons for their
strange behaviours without being judged, and without sudden change of hearts!!! But, you will never know how
the others tick……..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">So, try and be “real friends” to people who call you friends and
be careful when you call somebody your “extended family” cos once you call them
that you are under an obligation to remember and carry out the relation in that
exact way!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-44293652170526703282013-07-18T04:56:00.000-07:002013-10-08T23:54:28.997-07:00My very own poetry-book......2............Melancholy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<h3 style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 7.5pt;">
<span style="color: #1694e1; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif";">Melancholy!<o:p></o:p></span></h3>
<div>
<span style="color: #1694e1; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">By Archana Sandeep Tambe</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #3d4141; font-family: "Helvetica","sans-serif"; font-size: 13.5pt;">He has finally gone away, leaving me sad and distressed.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
Only to a Boarding School and not forever!<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
my friends console me<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
I nod my head, I truly understand y'know, I say to them<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
But my heart, my soul, the unlimiting tears<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
which keep pouring out<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
Will not relent!<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
For deep somewhere, they being my closest associates,like me - know<br />
That until now, he-my darling son and me shared a very special bond!<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
And although this bond shall never be<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
broken,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
the thought of his going 'far away forever’<br />
strikes a discordant note.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
And then what erupts within is but MELANCHOLY!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677313630641448529.post-3256227767176216352013-07-16T23:28:00.002-07:002017-04-07T00:41:14.436-07:00Straight from the heart.......1.........(Birthday, A celebration or competition??)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
Just a couple of days ago, I celebrated my birthday......Nothing unusual there, a birthday does happen once a year and so came this one, but somehow this one has been one of the best ones I had!!<br />
<br />
Things that I took for granted, once upon a time, like the presence, love and enthusiasm of all my near and dear ones, taking out times from their busy work schedules(all for me to have a happy day), had left me speechless with gratitude! My husband, Son, sisters, nephews and nieces worked so hard to make my day so very special. The fun games, the acts/performances put up by my nieces and sonny boy, the choice of food and drinks, not to mention the desserts et all, towards the end of it all, I truly felt like a first-former enjoying her first big birthday party!! had so many bigger ones in the past with much more than this but, somehow, this one , for me, was the BEST of them all......and I cant seem to thank them all enough..........<br />
<br />
As a child, I remember waiting for this day, planning out so much in advance the dress to wear, the sweets to distribute in class, the small party for the class-fellows in the evening with songs, music, games, all done by us children... (cutting a cake etc was just never or only once in a way affair in our childhood) Party snacks were mostly homemade, made by none other than dear mom and comprised of barely two or three items , but would be relished by one and all!! Infact, they disappeared so quickly...... Return gifts were not mandatory and if at all, they were school stationary ie pencils , rulers, notebooks , erasers etc ie something which was useful and not just seen and thrown away.....<br />
<br />
Today, I find so much competition , not only amongst children, but more so, their parents, to have the best parties for their school going kids....Each one is all set to outdo the others in the organising of such parties.......It is an Event by itself with Event Management Companies conducting the whole affair ...:)<br />
what must be done by the kids (ie the use of their creativity to be involved in arranging activities and brighten the party) is all done by these companies. All the hosts do is to doll up both themselves and their kids and go about the party in a filmy way.... So much food is ordered and wasted, expensive gifts and return-gifts are exchanged, the children, instead of looking at the fun and games are busy checking out their return-gifts and chucking them away, while the dolled-up mommies are comparing/criticising them........... Inspite of all the pomp and grandeur in these parties, what is I see lacking is the child-like attitude and enthusiasm of ..... the children.........they dont seem to be really enjoying as they must and this has led me to thinking about why so much materialsim cannot bring that naked joy that I had seen and felt with my friends as a child and then it suddenly comes to me as a shocking enlightenment, shall I say.....<br />
<br />
Perhaps, what is happening to day to all of us is what we may call the problem of "EXCESS".....Today, there is "too much" of everything .......and therefore there is no feeling of joy in small little things......nothing is good enough as we all have too much to compare with!!! We are neither happy with what we give nor what we get.................so what can we hope for our children to be happy with??<br />
<br />
I wish, we elders really give a serious thought to these happenings around us and start, once again to personally involve in these happenings to rekindle these smaller joys into our future....our"generation next" ....what say, friends???<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01593705018680299995noreply@blogger.com0