Ishithaa

Why Ishithaa

“Maaaaaaaa! Gueshh what I got” my little birdie chirped in her ever pleasing sing song voice. “Hmm.. what is it baby?” “Gueshh naaaa…” the birdie’s voice is gaining frequency the minute. She is every bit her father’s daughter – loving, raucous and edgy. Looking up at her from the book I am reading, see that her tiny little hand is all balled up into a tight fist and is outstretched towards me. “Is it a button?” She loves picking up these things from wherever she can. “No” “Hmm.. is it a marble?” “No…” “Then is it..’” “Never mind maa, I will show you” and she opens up her fist with a broad smile to show these precious petals from a rose flower, blood red in colour. I am at a loss at what to tell her. Do I tell her that a plant is a living being, and that she is not supposed to hurt another living thing? But how could - I - who kills cockroaches and mosquitoes, eats non vegetarian food – tell my daughter that it is wrong hurt another living be...

Water is the elixir of life – it is the reason life is, it is the reason life will be or will not be. This having said, think – do we give it the importance it deserves?     Do we actually take care to preserve water or its sources?   What might have caused the death of the river, which once used to flow full and enriched the civilization around us? Aren’t we too responsible for the plight of the river?

So I found this cool website that analyzes your personality type based on what your blog says - i guess might would be true for those people who blog about themselves or the things around them, wonder what it means to bloggers who indulge in fiction and all.. does the website analyze the characters they write about? I have no clue, I do not have an inkling of idea whether this has even an iota of truth in it, but what the heck, I have time on my hands why not go and check it out!!

Anand, You found this letter so late because I never posted -  you were always so busy – at the office with work and at home with your sons and Mrinalini.

More than being a post, this is more of a note to myself - the things I would want to do in life... no, this is not my bucket list, though I do like   that movie .  This is not a complete list, I will add to it as and when I find something worthy of being included in my dream list ;)

Pic Courtesy Fotolia This blue doorway was her favourite. It was in front of these very same doors he went down on one knee- like the typical hero in her romance novels, and asked her if she would marry him. He seemed least bothered about the onlookers gawking at them from every window, and across the street.

I can still vividly remember those long years we spent in prayers and offerings to different Gods from different places and faith, in the hope of a miracle in our own lives. The sleepless nights spent trying and crying over our failed attempts of having our own child, the endless questioning by the relatives as to whose fault it was, the branding by the older generation as the young modern couple who did not want progeny – all those were still fresh in our minds. The wounds had taken some time to heal, but heal they did.

Its a Monday,  And the chances are, You must be feeling blue

To say the least, my parents rejected and disowned me when they came to know how I really am. It is not by my free will that I lead a life like this, hiding from the society, never going home, always afraid of being ridiculed or mocked at. It is not my parents’ fault that they live in a coastal village along the western ghats of India where they are still not free to decide what is right and what is wrong for them. Similarly, it is not my fault that I’m like this; this is not a choice I have made.

A romance drama film written and directed by DerekCianfrance , Blue Valentine tries to show the rise of a very passionate relationship and its equally emotional final fall. Michelle Williams and RyanGosling donned the dual caps of playing the lead roles, as well as being the co-executive producers of the film. The movie shifts back and forth in time as we get to see the courtship and the final wreckage of the ship of marriage. ~ Spoiler Alert! ~

That fateful day, it was pouring heavily when I was scurrying about in a rush to cross the road so I could catch the bus home which would come any minute now. Before I realized what happened, I found myself lying flat on the road – pretty much like a frog squished by a truck – with my spectacles nowhere in sight. I could only imagine what I might have looked like over there, lying on my back, unable to find my glasses, my umbrella twisted in a very odd manner, realizing that my favourite bangle was now broken and suddenly aware of the various pairs of eyes staring at me, as if I was giving them some special circus show or something.  

Her room was locked; she was nowhere to be found. We had already searched the classrooms, the auditorium, the library, the canteen – everywhere there were chances of finding her. The time was already getting late for the hostel gates to be shut, and she was nowhere to be found. Her roommate had no idea where Priya was. Someone remembered that she always carried her mobile wherever she went; we now tried to reach her by phone.

It was going on for quite a few weeks now. The lady and her husband were always talking in hushed tones, alert and looking around to ensure no one was eavesdropping. Being tiny has its own benefit; I can hide safely behind the lady’s thick curtains and listen. The quiet conversations between the kind lady and her rude husband had increased ever since they had brought in that gagged little girl. Will she join with the rest of us slaves or be sold off to that bearded man who had come to look at her when they brought her home? This post is in response to Corinne's prompt at  Everyday Gyaan  for the 100 Words on Saturday blog hop she is hosting.

There is a reason for everything, my grandma says; as is there a reason for you and me to be on this earth.  The reason is obviously our parents. If not for them, I would not have been, if not for them, you would not have been.

Everyone who knows me know how attached I am to my brother. He fills up my world, and I think I do occupy a significant corner in his heart. Before you think this post is about my brother, let me tell you that it is not. A post, a page or a book would not possible hold all that I have to tell about him. 

The Blogging from A to Z April Challenge Reflections Post 2013 April 2013, was not just another month in the calendar. It was an experience in itself, something that would make you lose your sleep for a whole month, something that would ensure that you end up with red painful eyes, something that would make everything else other than blogging secondary.

The sun rose like every other day, its rays orange and warm kissed her awake; the coffee her mom made was sweet; the bouquet of roses that came in still had thorns one of which pricked her; birds were singing but sounded nowhere close to violins playing; why then did they call this love? Asha smiled as she went on with her daily chores. Today was a big day for her, beyond doubts, but she knew it would be a bigger day for Milan – the day his dreams would start coming true, the day she would officially walk into his life, as his fiancé. 

Happy at having reached a decision she went and joined her parents in their room; wanting to spend a few moments with them while she still had the time. She found them poring over her childhood albums and were passing comments on and laughing at many of the photographs. She stood outside their room and kept watching them - how comfortable they were with each other, how every moment spent together they cherished, hoping every day of their life she and Milan could share the same camaraderie, she walked into the room.

Asha was in a dilemma as to what to choose, Delhi - a place where she always wanted to be or Michigan – which sounded like a good place where she could have her share of adventures. She would have to ask her dad to help her choose.