Wordz are all I have.........

Every married man will vouch for this. His morning starts with his wife
and her eternal wise words. Its not any different in our household. Only that someone is not listening but hearing. No prizes for guessing who that 'One' is. If u are a man reading it stop grinning and a woman.. sad bt true Thou shal not fret!

However... aaaahh!! The joy of talking is an absolute bliss! Ya Ya I know to shut up is an art but gosh says who, I never was artistically inclined!

To express is an art, mind you and words always enticed me so its but innate for me to have a flirtatious relationship wid them. The love for words started as early as when I was a few months old. To write poetry was taking this relationship of ours to the next level.

Writing after a hiatus. This ones for you my sweetheart, for always been there to listen and encourage however inane I was, am n will be.
( By the way u camouflage your attention very well)  ;)

It starts with you and ends there. Nothin is complete without you!
For You...once again and always

I Share with you
All that I have
The Love I have for you
Is with all of my heart
My heart holds all the happiness and joy
Owing to the place I have in your life

A content smile and a gleaming glow,
a warm lingering feeling of being loved
is forever a part of me
Cos If I have you
I have it All <3

And the story continues... watch this space for more!

Men aint from Mars... They migrate post marriage!

I woke up this morning with a sharp pain in the back. Neglecting it as usual and blaming it to the previous night's mundane chores. No, I ain't even remotely referring to my 5 years of marriage at all!
With all my due respects to the beautiful bond we share, husbands do they ever change???

The pain was impending for a few days now which i was deliberately ignoring not because I dread getting old but because I hate taking medication. I am immune to a certain lot of pain. But medication is something I would avoid like plague. Back to the pain in the back..why my head keeps ringing a bell: pain and men in the same tone?.. I really wonder why ?

Husbands; so much of a research I am sure is incomplete because Men may have never found a reason to attempt to initiate any and women too engrossed in all the minute details to consolidate the facts!
Having said that when I was a little girl I wondered how beautiful it is to find a man of my dreams, to love him with all my heart, raise a child. The dream is indeed fulfilled beyond expectations with a slight distraction,  I married a Man and I made him a husband.

We keep blaming husbands don't listen but have we particularly ever noticed how much we women need to talk. I did, I speak in a day how much my husband would in a week or am I exaggerating? Ohk its more than week. Moving ahead we wont dwell too much on me talking!! My husband for sure will agree it is all meaningful considering he has not even heard a quarter of it at all. Over the years men have beautifully mastered the art of convenience listening. My experience says when his responses are monosyllables, we are good, Its when he sits up and is a part of the conversation which sets me worrying!!
Of course women have so much to share, so much to express, why interrupt the smooth flow of thoughts, is what men have for an perfect excuse.

Ignoring the innate quality of men which is so annoying, alright I need to change the tense here, qualities, I may take the liberty of saying they are a perfect companion. They love us, nurture our dreams n faith, Give us hope, take care of us in sickness and complete us as a woman. I absolutely need to give full credit to man-kind to share with us the fruit of their loins. Having the ability to make a woman mother is one of the most precious gift.

Women talk- Men listen, I give u a kiss you give me a hug, I shop- u pay the bills,  I cook, he does the dishes, I choose the color- u paint the walls, I feed the baby- you change his nappies et al.  Its that simple!
Nature has assigned Man and Woman individual roles, If we each did respect that, life would be the perfect harmony we talk about and yearn for.

Honie...I am done with writing the blog, could you please help me do the spell check and upload it for me.
It really works. Make the Man feel like  he is YOUR man and he would do anything for his damsel in distress!!

All you need is an ounce of Imagination to manifest into reality!

To pen down my thoughts started for me when I wasn't even allowed to use pens !! Gosh why ain't they let us call pencilling your thoughts or for the more daring : crayoning their  thoughts!!

I wonder really wonder why? Guess that's where it all starts from.. 'Why' seems to be the first word I uttered I guess ;)  Till this date I need to know why for anything and everything. It started with asking my father. Am definite he sure had some good lessons in keeping his patience thanks to the curious cat he has for a daughter!!!

My mum says I started speaking too early for a child, much before I was even a year old. All who know me am sure ain't too surprised to hear this. If I am quiet is when anyone would have a reason to fret. Cliched it may sound but no surprises If the phrase was coined after I was born or rather I started talking.

Before I wander off again in my wonderland.. This was about why (there the word makes its presence felt) I took up writing. We studied in an english medium school wherein only the medium of imparting education was english! I don't remember a single soul speaking in the wretched language until any of the teachers were at an arms distance. During our English Language class and surprisingly my favourite subject, our teacher announced we have a Poetry writing competition tomorrow, so we could prepare and come. The best entry will be awarded and published in the school magazine.

No prizes for guessing I was least bit interested in working after school be it anything. Having long back forgotten, as usual what I am supposed to do for the class tomorrow I went off to do what I did best then and still do: Sleep! Who dare say i aint consistent !!!! ;)
The next day in class all the eager beavers were ready with all that they had prepared (read pinched) from here and there or used their precious time on.  I was only too happy to know that the entire class is going to be all the hoo-lah hoo and no lesson for the day.

One of the gals  who hated me (actually there were more than a few who did) was bragging to whoever was interested in listening to her, that how she is going to win the Poetry competition and how her name will be published in the school news magazine. And then happened to what we know as the bollywood film style 'kahani main twist'. No ways someone gets away with snubbing me. I just had to make up something and the worse was how do i get my name in the coveted school magazine. I scrubbed and racked my brains and I  have to earnestly admit  the effort was twice fold to get to the bottom considering it wasn't put to good use for a good amount of time.

Oh how I hated cats and yet do. But somehow nothing rhymed better and there I was ready with a poem of mine. The first ever Poem I wrote: My Cat. The feeling I had then I am sure are the pangs of a woman giving childbirth proudly holding the newborn in her arms. For all my efforts my teacher had to say was alright 'keep it in the stack of papers on my desk"
So much for "My Cat''.. so what if I hate them!!

That was the first time and the last ( so I thought then) am i writing anything I swore to myself.  Days were gone and turned into a week. One morning as I rushed in the class, late, Everyone clapped for me. Urrgh.. kids can be real cruel I tell you, I thought I was being mocked for doing something i aint supposed to which came so innately to me. My best buddy came and whispered in my year and I felt like smacking him one in his  fat face. Good thought dwelled upon me and thank lord I did not. He said those three words which swept me off my feet.. Yes.. He said, You have won!!  Oh good lord small mercies you have on me!!

The clapping and cheering could have continued for some more time now,  only that it din't. What felt more satiating was not that I won but someone (the prude gal who hated me) finally had found her match in vanity.
I had won the first prize and an entry for the annual magazine. My head just kept singing I won.. I won. I won!
Coming back to reality it felt awarded for my efforts.. blah blah. Modesty for sure wasn't my forte.

Nevertheless, My teacher was so happy with the poem I wrote she sent it to the children's section of Times of India newspaper n surprises of surprises..One morning when I wake up my proud father beams I am in the newspaper. Gosh honestly I felt like a criminal then secretly praying none of what I am thinking is in the news!! I was only seven then!!

My Cat was published in the Education Times supplement of Times of India Newspaper. I received accolades from school teachers, friends and family. I even had a small fan following. The letters I have kept very carefully till date incase anyone ever wants to refute my claim to stardom ;)

Since then the writing bug bit me hard, more so because I loved the attention. I wrote a few more with the sole aim of getting them published. And publish they did. TOI even sent me a cheque of 35 rupees for my writing services which daddy has carefully kept. It is still not en -cashed and is like a prized possession.
I intend to pass it on as a heir loom to who so ever i deem worthy of it. It aint any less than an oscar for me!!

Soon thereafter the vanity vanished and i genuinely started enjoyed writing. The only and the drastic difference was I wrote only what were my deepest thoughts. Sharing them with anyone was out of question and there goes another great poetess buried (read happy and cozy) in her grave.
I have been writing poetry for friends who wanted to impress their lady love(s), flatter their bosses, limericks for kids you name it. All this I was alright to share with but not the real me.

Unlike the quintessential damsel, I wooed my knight in armour and now husband (after all the pursuing he better be) with my mushy love poems and letters.
It is only recent that all the encouragement and lots of patience, I think the tortoise of my writing has decided to come out of its shell and pop its head to say hello to the outside world. And yes we one helluva like it.

So here I am!!

For the reading pleasure : My first ever poem

My Cat

I had a cat
Who was very fat
All she did was sleep and sat
she couldn't even catch rat

She liked to play with the bat
and scratch the mat
She would chew up the ball
lazing in the hall
She liked to roll in the grass
and dirty my expensive brass

The cat then had kitten
But they were all bitten
Soon the kitten became cat
like their mother lazy and fat

Mercy.. I still hate cats but not 'My Cat'.  She opened the door for me to the vivacious and versatile world of my imagination.
Meoooowrrrrrrr! Or shud I say Roarrrrrr since I too have grown up from being the cat to being a Lioness. Watch this space for more for now the Lioness in me :)

Summer Time: My Boy Years

The summer air gets more hotter as the years go by. The gentle breeze of the yesteryears brings back the fond memories.   The naive thoughts , the carefree laughter, the innocent games... I feel them on my skin and the warm feel yet soothes so much.

Listening to country road by John Denver takes you furthermore in your journey backwards.
Growing up in a joint family seemed so cumbersome then but the diversified and versatile childhood it gave me is beyond compare. Sharing the room with brothers, playing games boyz play gives you so much insight and how much they teach you. Fight like a Man, has a meaning to it, and I know exactly what!

I know what respecting a woman and treating her right is thanks to my brothers. ( pushing me off the sofa, wrestling with me, criticising my choice of clothes. how I dress, interupting my endless phone conversations, my choice of boyfriends aint counts).

Thanks to my rowdy brothers I never had dolls to play with.. Thanks to you guys, my belief stands strengthened, I am a Doll!!  I still mourn the fate of the only doll I ever had, poor thing met her fate at the hands of career aspirations of my brothers.. My doll was subjected to Intravenous injections.. this brother is a Doctor now, Her hair pulled out and arms dislocated.. Gosh he is also a doctor now. She was made a football, thrown around and kicked.( He builds roads), Laughed at and made to look funny and ugly, He is a college Principal now. What happened to civilization and chivalry???
But thanks to the same brothers I know to stand up for myself and live life on my own terms. The age old adage of you are a girl, the do's and dont's aint affected me throughout my growing years

Our mutual love for dogs goes back to this time. Ensuring the stray pups are fine, making brick houses for them in our garden, to feeding them milk to giving them cute funny and oh ya yes.. boyish names, Again!! Sneaking them in the house was such a high those times, hiding them in the balcony.  I particularly remember this furry angel whom we had named Anna. She stayed with us for 2-3 days and it was amazing. But seeing how much she missed her brothers, My almost elder brother Sushant took her back to them. I remember he said she is more happy with them then she is with me. Thank you bro you may never realize but you taught me a big lesson then. When you love someone what matters more is what makes your loved ones happy more than your own happiness. I have strived to live all my life that way.

All the boys time during my growing years makes the fact that I was the only gal amongst all boys making it more interesting. More attention and more care!! I know its a whole different world and yet so similar

I cherish the woman I am today. Thanks for Everything, Prashant, Sushant, Abhishek, Aniket and my darling Vaibhav. I love you All.

Reminiscence

"Pehpper"
July 5, 2008 ---- Feb 28, 2010
GSD Mix

Pooh Poo girl............ We think of you Everyday.  Your fragrance is on our skin always. Every beat of our heart has our poohper on it. Pumkin.... Everytime we think of you our eyes mist but never fails to bring a smile to our hearts. Pehpper You are the Love of our Life. Dada is a lill more sad and misses you the most. But dont worry I will take care of him. And yeah your share of Dada is foreva Yours Baby. Love You Always Munchkin

Bow Wow Dayz

It feels like just yesterday. One year was never so long and fast at the same time.

Our first pet baby Pehpper passed away on 28.02.2010.
And my second Pet baby  Ginger Diva celebrated her 1st birthday on 28.02.2011

The unconditional and selfless love a pet gives you is beyond comparison and irreplaceable. My heart sinks as I think how my lil' princess felt when she was saying her final bye to me. I may not have given birth to Pehpper but she made me a mother. I know thanks to you angel, what being a complete woman means. I truly believe that a baby gives birth to a mother!

Ginger Diva came into our lives eaxactly a month later. She is an angel sent to us by Pehpper to ensure her presence is not missed, to reinforce our feeling of parenthood.

From Gingii Boo's, as she is fondly called, first paw in the house, we know Pehpper is HOME.
Although only in soul Ginger Diva is Pehpper re-incarnated :). Pehpper is always been a princess oblivious to the animal world. Contrary to that
Gingii is a deavil in disguise. As parents we always yearned for twins and gosh our wish is granted!

But thank you good lord, I have the best of both the worlds. I love both my babies and am so glad they are mine.