I'm a mixture of a traditional and a modern Indian married woman. Love all the Indian cultures, festivities, cuisine and everything Indian....simultaneously love to hold a drink while gossiping,
to hit the dance floor, dressed comfortably most of the times.
Talk, Eat, Sleep, Travel, Friends,..you can place that in any order.
And yes...That's me !!
A Father's Daughter
AFATHER'S APPLE OF THE EYE?
A father’s daughter is
always a princess.
But does the daughter
From clean cotton langots to
From goo goo ga gaa to
foreign language classes,
From basic varan-bhaat to
unimaginable Japenese//Vietnamese cuisines,
From toddlers den to the
Not to mention the rise and
fall of a running race or a cycle race
The number of wailing nights
caused by the broken dolls
Uff,, how can one forget the
broken hearts to be mended??
Each time her heart
breaks…the father’s hearts bleeds.
Each wretched salty tear wretches
He will move the earth to
bring back that sunshine on her face.
A happy daughter makes a
Now, wait a minute,,,,
Is the precious princess aware
of the father’s doings??
Never did bat an eyelid to wonder, how her dreams always came true,
Never did notice the crease
on the forehead nor the blisters on the feet,
Dancing away to glory, in
her own fairy tale fable,
Snuggles down into her own
nest, her eggs and brood,
I Got up. Walked to the nearest window. Looked outside. What do I see? A great view. The view I saw outside my window, took me back to my pre primary classroom. Many decades ago. Exactly like…. Once upon a time…..
I loved that time when our teacher, Mrs. Hicks brought in the big fat book of Fairy Tales. She would read to us one tale after another with so much of animation in her voice, that I always sailed into another world. A world of fairies, pixies and demons, elves, gnomes and goblins. The characters stepped out of Mrs. Hicks books and did all the things her voice led them to perform. A beautiful play. And in the middle of the entire drama, sat a little, young and innocent ME, taking in every word and sigh, Mrs Hicks brought out. Believing and absorbing every word and visualising the characters prancing around me in their colourful costumes.
Just to mention a few of my favourites.. Hansel and Gretel, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Rapunzel, The Three Lit…
Hello Friends, Strictly Only to the Non Vegetarian Ones, To a person settled in Mumbai for the last 22 odd years, Bangalore winters can be really mean. @Suresh Sanyasi, my brother told me to look up #@LiciousFoods and I will not feel abandoned. Out of pure boredom, I did just that. And true to his word,, a feel of comfort enveloped my temporary single existence, in Chilly Bangalore. As I went through the eye captivating pictures on #Licious, my hungry stomach drooled. And I could not resist but order my favorites from the varied spread available. I had to silence my growling stomach, is it not? Or else, what will my new neighbors think? Though I’m not a techie or any device geek, downloading the #Licious phone app was very simple. Looked out for the nearest outlet and ordered away. In less the promised delivery time, my #Licious man was at my door, asking for me by my name. This , I’m saying, because, now, to everyone I’m only Suresh Sanyasi’s sister from Mumbai. Yeah..yeah… the surpri…
She was a caring daughter and a sister. Always helping out her siblings with trivial nick knacks. Bailing them out. At the beck and call of her parents and elders. A dutiful wife and daughter in law. And now a mother too. Bound by the hustle bustle of a married life. She never gave the professional life a daylight break. Everyone was very okay with this girl in the mirror, as their needs were fulfilled and catered to.
The family and friends basked in the warmth spread around. The years rolled. The in laws passed on, the children grew up, the families became nuclear. The receding hairlines, the greying crescent hair dos, (that much only was left on the balding heads), Was being a silent witness.
Now, the family wonders: - what the bloody hell did this woman do all her life.? She has wasted her education. No graphs of professional ladders scaled. No social status with the big-wigs in town. No technical know-how. Needed analogy of recipes or maids or milkman or moron…