The Homemaker

Before I could start my day, I promptly got out of bed, made my way into her room only to snuggle beside her sleepy still. Daddy was away and hence she was all mine for the day!  . 

It began with a debate of what is to be prepared for breakfast until we came to a mutual agreement on a rather not so "desi" breakfast of toast and warm milk.
What is a holiday if rules are not broken, routine not followed and the unusual not experimented and played with!.. So done with breakfast we decided a walk (supposed to have been a morning walk) will do us good. Relatively new to this city and me a veteran I had fun confusing her with the rather tidy and rather organised roads! 

We discovered some unique houses both ancient and modern.. The sun played hide and seek with the clouds, a pleasant mix of warm rays in the cool breeze. Back home lunch was a miscellany of stuffs we kept chewing onto in the midst of our never ending discussions, serious and mostly otherwise. 

Slightly tired we dozed off for some time, me snuggling up to her again!
Hour and Minute were kind to me today! wasn't quite racing as they usually do.
I showed her my recent clicks on Instagram, my wardrobe collection piling up in the last seven years, some of my random write ups and ofcourse all the stories behind them! 

We talked endless!! bitched about daddy's obnoxious snores and his growing Equator which took up more than half of the bed!!! Well if I must mention they were precisely my views cause she has all the reasons to defend her Better Half which she did  I danced to the tunes of Beyonce and made her match up to the steps of "Kajra Re"!! She did her best with limited feet movement, thanks to that imp residing in her knees notoriously termed "arthritis". But she is a sport in-spite of it
. 
She tried teaching me how to drape a saree, made me prepare afternoon tea( daughter labor I called it  ) and contrived me into cleaning up my room. 
We talked, fought, danced, hummed to the tunes of old melodies! It was a day spent with my Best Half- Maa, until it was evening and her Better Half, her first love ( oh wait so am I the second love of her life! A question she never has an answer to :P) took over from me  

These enduring moments define unconditional love. Years later I lived every moment of it! 

Rain and Roses

As I flipped through the pages of my school magazine, I could hear the thunders outside. As I peeped out of my window, a gust of cold wind slapped my cheek and I noticed a streak of white lightning as it swept over the dark grey sky! Rain was finally making a comeback! The roses lined outside in the balcony swayed madly at the breeze and I watched the first drop of rain as it landed itself on a red petal.

My gaze turned back to the magazine and the page that was right in front of my eyes framed a picture of all my teachers, a very special and dear face amongst them seemed to light up a lot of memories. Memories that lit up my thoughts on an otherwise dull day. My first ever English teacher in school. Ma'am I addressed her.

She was our Moral Science teacher during her early days in school, and now finally to teach me my favorite subject! A subject that dealt with words and words for me are magic!

I remembered hated going to school as a kid. Every morning it was the same old story of me shedding profuse tears and trying all my means to convince my mother to keep me away from school. But all in vain! she was by then very well acquainted with all my tricks and intentions and everyday after a lot of hue and cry was forced into the premises by the cruel "darwans" who would not even allow my mommy to accompany me to my classroom, and maybe sit sometime with me at my desk...maybe till about the last period! Well my demands were simple, and I firmly believed it!

That one day it rained heavily. But we did not get a rainy day holiday. Instead I landed myself amidst the crowd at the entrance, lost sight of my mother, drenched and confused and almost in tears. The fear of getting lost in the crowd was indeed prodigious. And just about in time before tears could start rolling down, I promptly felt the touch of warm hands that led me in. I had little choice but to follow this lady who still was very much a stranger to me. As much as I could decipher from behind, her long black hair neatly tucked up in a pony and in her neatly clad pink salwar kameez she had all the looks of a teacher!

I tried to pull my hands away from this stranger, but she held them firm and led me in to my classroom. And I as an act of gratefulness punched a blow on her nose as she inched closer to only console me. She tried to kidnap me and forced me in, well that is what I assumed back then.

She then presented to me a rose, and then yet another until I finally stopped shedding profuse tears (for what I still do not know, that hint of being the drama queen was just taking shape I guess!!) and flashed my otherwise expensive smile!

Well being the only daughter and child, you have the whole and sole authority to be the master of all your mood swings and leave it untamed! (Well growing up I realised that wasn't quite the ideal thing to do!)
Thanks to those lovely roses and the rain, since that very day, I woke up early every morning eager to go to school. For I knew there was a special someone waiting for me with roses in her hand! just for me.
After school it almost turned a habit to keep my mother waiting and take enough time out to talk to my teacher. Conversations with your favourite one seems endless and are timeless!

The lovely lady that she was, school indeed turned a second home as was always said and I had previously disagreed. My mother had all the reasons to be jealous of her! I love my mom but I guess I love her " a little more " -my diary tells me so now! Loving someone was such an easy task then!
It began with her efforts of instilling in me that school was indeed a nice place to come to where we master the divine art of learning with teachers and friends!  With time and age we shared a bond when from a teacher she turned a friend too.

Sometimes she left me really angry. Lynching me for making the slenderest mistakes, and in front of my fellow classmates. It made me feel that faint spirit of Hitler still existed somewhere deep within. With age realizations took wings and slowly and steadily reasons for every little deed and action started making sense.

She sailed along with me as I entered my "sweet sixteens", when I took so much of pride in growing up as I entered the very very vulnerable number - sixteen. Little did I know then, I stood at the brink from where I could either fall and fall hard or I could create a firm ground and prepare for a long odyssey ahead.
Such grave thoughts were a distant thought then, and that is exactly a time I needed that someone with whom I could share all my problems beyond the closed pages of my book. Things that seemed a little too arduous to be expressed to mom. Ma'am was like an open book to me and I divulged in all my thoughts bestowing my complete trust, and she very gracefully and silently paved my path for days ahead with her advices and talks. They were in one word Priceless!

With her I developed a strong liking for the language English, a profound curiosity to go into its deepest depths of knowing it more and more. I started falling in love with words and since then till now it has been the most steady love affair of my life.

We shared many a thing in common, for I believe it is commonality which bring two people together. Two of our favourite things were definitely the rain and red roses. Her persona was so incredibly arresting and her advices and talks kept resonating my mind! A lady who was my strength and my weakness just the same. I loved to fight with her cause she always made up for it, I often disagreed with her for I knew she was always right.

As with another fleeting year I inch a little more closer to completing a decade  having left school behind, there are some memories and some people one can never obliterate from the mind's eye. Ma'am was one such figure in my journey so far. She walked in when I could be molded into just about anybody, seasoned me into the woman that I am today and elegantly walked off at a time when becoming independent became a priority.

She was my constellation of ideas, my human pillar, articulation of my thoughts, the architect of my smiles, a shoulder to my tears. A teacher who taught me the best lessons and left me to learn a colossal amount of lessons in my rendezvous with an even greater teacher called "life"!

My Window

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare~ William H Davies

My window side. Dwelling in this age of technology I still somehow subconsciously follow the ancient practice of looking out of my window to decipher the time of the day, before I turn my gaze at my “smart phone” to get an accurate digital reading.
 My time keeper, my “weather teller” , an opening to all my thoughts before I start penning them down, my mute spectator to all my contrasting gazes!
You have so many stories to tell me when I look out of your panes, your rain splashed glasses, watching the droplets I concoct many of my stories!
You instill in me the belief that I still belong to a planet orbiting around the mighty Sun! And tomorrow will surely visit me again..

The Ring

   

     It is Him.
     Must be Him.
     Finally.
This piece of thing was put on my table on a V day evening. Let the year be.
Indeed if it is love, it needs no special day to celebrate. But yes if special things happen on a day people call a special one, the feeling is as sweet as having the hottest yet sweetest jalebi on a morning when you least expected it to happen!
Expectation! Heavy as it sounds on paper and in the head, am only too human to expect, resolute not to inside a warm knit blanket resting my head on a drenched pillow, and expect again on a sunshine morning!

Sometimes getting lost in that infinite loop is a habit the heart traps you into and the brain hijacks that state of mind, shutting out all doors of logic and reason.
To notice that thing on my table was surprising indeed. Caged in blue velvet, it lay mute and twinkled, I was speechless and overwhelmed.
Overwhelmed yes. But happy? Somewhere numbness has crept in..
If this was true, I was still waiting to believe it. Waiting has turned into a habit.
As I still gazed at it, mom walked in, “happy valentine’s day” she announced out happy and loud and hugged me. I hugged her back a little more tighter than the last time, with the promise not to moisten her shawl. This secret was only kept with my pillow behind closed doors and she adored that otherwise strong lady she proudly addressed as “my daughter”.

    No it did not come from Him.
    He was scared to commit.

The thing, the ring was now decked on me, on my ring finger it sat happily gleaming. Caged no more. The date evening with my mother my sole owner turned out the best ever. Seated under a sky full of stars and a candle lit in front us we enjoyed two glasses of the yummiest cold chocolate ever made on this face of earth!
We talked endless and laughed like kids out on a lunch break after a long and calculative maths class. It was the best date I have had so far.
On a lazy Sunday afternoon that I happen to look at the ring and have a good laugh at all of those who think and assume me to be engaged! I have always preferred not to answer and pass away with a smile. Only if I could make them understand. Some engagements are special. Some commitments are for a lifetime, quietly secured in a shell of love without the fear of the uncertain.

    No it did not come from Him.
    He was scared to commit.
    He still is