For my Egg!!!

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What can I say, that I haven’t said before,
Every day I just love you more!
I can’t write better than you,
You who’d choose azure over blue!

Our bond, 8 years strong,
No part of it, ever felt wrong!
Even stronger since yesterday
Our mischiefs, never at bay!

The girl who can do it all,
Though difficult to get on call,
But when you do, all your lows
The crying, to hell it goes!

High on life is she,
Never deterred she be!
Whether good times or bad,
Exemplifies strength, this lad!

My Arian sister,
We joke, following her may give a blister!
But yours is the opinion that matters,
You are the leader, we’d follow for starters!

Halfway through this I am,
This is terrible, so terrible, damn!
But Apoorva, you’d be the one to say,
Don’t regret, keep at it every day!

My penguin she is, she is my egg,
She can take a stand, albeit not on the keg..
I’m going to miss miss misssss her,
“Stay back”, “come along”, our spirits whisper!

She has taken me at my worst,
Made up my days, which were cursed.
When elated I am though,
She puts me on seventh heaven, bro!

Honored I am to be your friend,
I take, not only your souvenir, but you till the end!
I hope I have been the friend you deserve till date,
I shall continue to improve, I promise you mate!

I really am bad at poetry, you see..
This is only my bestie’s forte be!
Haven’t read one of hers for long,
So I thought to write this, to move her along!

P. S. Just for you!!! Happy poem-ing! 🙂

August Goodbyes

My blog on my mug!!!
My blog on my mug!!!

Alrighy then. First and foremost, apologies for having abandoned my blog…for nearly 1.5 months. No excuses. A very bad thing to have done. Complete lack of trying as well… Been out of Reach of my inner writer; willingness to write. Things have finally fallen into place, and so I can begin!

I understand that my entire theme of July went down the drain, but I shall write that out as I did learn cooking, albeit, basic, just-for-survival cooking! I can’t let Julie and Julia July just fade away with the category blank!

Anyway, August is here! Who am I kidding… it has been here for weeks now, sorry 😦

It’s the final month in India, for I don’t know how many years to come! I’m quite blank, I’m neither excited, nor sad. I’m just..?

It started with saaa aka Abbas leaving, that’s when I wrote my first goodbye. Now it is time for me to say so to my special people and hence, I shall obediently give them my kind of goodbye – something this permanent and PDA-like. And what is a better medium than an abandoned warehouse of written work!?

August is my last with my people, my soulmates, my lovelies, and I am going to make it all worth it!

Before I begin, if I miss out on someone, which is unlikely, remember that I love you too!

As for practicing my short stories, many more months are yet to come! So worry not!

First, for my egg, my penguin!

P. S. Okay, must admit, feels great to write here again…knowing someone somewhere is reading! Happy brewing, happy reading! 🙂


For you to read when you land!


Starting with the first of many goodbyes to come…

You know how you make friends at school and then

further at college? Well, as a former introvert, I never thought I’d have the opportunity to do so. But today, I have my closest few whom I’m going to miss dearly and won’t be able to say goodbyes to.

Nevertheless, before me, my dumbass friend had to leave and the roles momentarily reversed – like I’ll hug and get on the plane eventually, he just did that. And it hit me that times are already changing, college years have come to an end.

Abbas Pyarali aka Saaaaaaa (to infinity and beyond). Sa because well, he is from South Africa. But the nickname stuck really well. I don’t remember the last time I called him Abbas. Anyway, he left yesterday to go back home, forever. I don’t know when I’ll see him again. Maybe for his wedding (hehe) or when I force him to take me to Cape Town. I wonder how many years it will be; five, seven, ten? Won’t see him in reality, won’t hug him, won’t be able to hit him every day anymore. My association with him has officially been confined to Skype now. Unfortunate, isn’t it?

Well, I had to give him something as a parting gift, right? Something to cherish, remember me by? What could it be? A book? He won’t read it. Shoes, gym gear, clothes? I don’t have the capacity for them. But more than materialistic, it had to be personal. So what could I do better than write for him? So, this is my farewell gift to you. A brief compilation of our time spent together.

The very first time me and my girlfriends saw him was on the first day of college, Aug 13, 2012. Apparently he thinks he wasn’t there on that day. But I do remember seeing him distinctly. So he walked in and we thought, well, not bad, not bad at all. He was the quiet guy, sitting at the back of the class, not contributing to anything. When asked to introduce himself, he spoke in an accent difficult to understand (No, not because I don’t get accents, but because he is too dumb to communicate well. Period.). Next I remember that we had some seminar and he came to ask me about some document work. Those were the very first encounters.

Next, he was placed in Practical batch A, and Kruti and I would sit and talk to him, while he told us where he is from, about South Africa. But you know what I remember most vividly? The way he would stare at us four (Aku, Kru, Niks and me). Not in a perverse way, of course. We were the most active people in the class. We would talk and laugh incessantly. And Sa, without even knowing the joke, would laugh along (see? Crazy and dumb). Yes, Sa, we have noticed all that, admit it. I guess, we amused him.

Well, days went by and became months, soon the first year came to an end and I found that I had five best college friends. The six of us would spend every moment of the day together, during classes, after them. We celebrated everyone’s birthdays, went out for movies and dinners. I remember how Sa and Aku had faked a fight on my birthday and then that was one of the reasons used to lure me out of my room later that day, to celebrate my 18th birthday in a beautiful grand fashion. I remember how I found their fake quarrel quite realistic. I remember how we would listen to Wimbledon commentary on the phone because we couldn’t watch it in the campus; how you would always support Nole and me Nadal, if and when they played against each other (and you used to make such a big deal if Nadal lost). One of the most recent amusing stories is his birthday…I hope you never tell anyone how I texted you at 0030h on May 21 saying you still had three hours left to turn 23 and that I won’t be wishing you until then (because I thought you were in Africa). I guess, more of time adjustment will be necessary in the next year. Lastly, the most recent – how nervous you get around parents.

Frankly, I have been more irritated with him in these past years than loved him. We have had our differences, major rifts, but more so than anything, we have had long talks, advising, sharing stories and instances, opening up about problems. If it was more of mature brain-storming I required, I always turned to him. I never crying-called him, but I could always tell him literally everything. We might have less ‘crazy times’ (too sober as he is), but he is one of the first to read and advise me on particular stories. There have been ups and downs but when I saw him off yesterday, it felt bad. Hasn’t hit me yet, but it will. Very soon it will be “Oh god! Haven’t seen you in years.” Very soon it will be “Oh god, I don’t remember the last time we spoke.” Hopefully, it won’t.

But, for my first goodbye, I’ll surely miss you. Yes, you are dumb, annoying, too bored a guy (the usual look on your face). You are the one guy who wants to see me faint, see my perfume attack. You are my consolation that I am not that heavy (if you can lift me, I’m not a walrus yet). You are the one guy who has more mood swings than a girl (please don’t stop talking to me now that I’m spilling such secrets). But you are one of the few who knows me very well. Unpredictable as I am, you are one of the few who can still guess what I might do and say. You are such a decent guy who loves to shower (*ahem*). You are one of my hotties with a beautiful family of your own. And now that I want you to stay grounded, I shall stop praising you and just say a formal, written goodbye. I do love you, Sa. You are my dumbest friend ever. I’ll miss you. Even if we don’t talk much eventually, know that I’ll remember you.

P. S. The least I can do. Goodbye!

Clouds because writing this for him while he is up in the air! 😉

Julie-and-Julia July!

My omelette attempt on my parents anniversary on Nov 21 2015
My omelette attempt on my parents anniversary on Nov 21 2015

July is here! The next new month! A new theme! So, the count down for ‘further education’ has officially begun and now the time has come for this book worm to enter the kitchen and learn to…cook. Yes, the worm doesn’t know much.

Having set the priority for this month at home, I figured, what better than to use the same for the blog? So, remember the movie Julie and Julia? The one where Julie Powell blogs about the 524 recipes she learns from Julia Child? This is going to be nothing like that.

The plan is to write about the tiny, simple food items I learn to prepare. It won’t be helpful, it won’t look appealing. But I’d like some encouragement and hence, this plan!

Please await my feeble attempts at cooking and learning the different types of egg preparations for the current month – July! I’m sorry, Julie-and-Julia July!

P. S. Please don’t accuse me of copyright theft…I hope this is sufficient acknowledgment for the wonderful and inspiring movie with brilliant actors! Happy cooking! 🙂

Deprived of Everything

“Sir, you have a conference call at 0945h; the ROW marketing meeting at 1030h. Your lunch with Mr. Smith has been arranged at 1300h. You have Reg Inc. coming in at 1530h and Boss needs you dot at 1700h.”

He listened to his secretary ramble on about his schedule for the day. This was every day, nothing unusual. He didn’t even bother looking up. He made notes about pending work which he would have to finish before each of the mentioned meetings and asked, “Is there anything else?”

“Well, your Project report is due tomorrow.”

“Oh, yes. I’ll have to do that after my last meeting for the day.”

He had begun working on the report the previous night, after yet another day completely booked by appointments and meetings. He couldn’t recollect the last time he had slept the entire night. He sighed and continued working. He ordered coffee, after a while.

“You are going to ruin your health like this, honey,” his wife had warned him the previous night. “Please stop this and come to bed.”

“Yes, I’ll be there in a few, sweetheart, I promise,” he promised, falsely.

He awoke the next day and found that he had dozed off at the table, in the study. He had sighed and begun to get ready for the day.

“Stop thinking about irrelevant things,” he said to himself, shaking his head to come out of his reverie.

With the conference call and meeting done, he was sitting in the car, on his way to the restaurant when his phone rang.

“Hello, my sleep deprived husband!” chirped his wife.

“Hello, my observant wife!” he replied.

“I hope you remember that it is your son’s recital today? I expect you to be home by six, ok?”

A moment of silence followed. This would be the third consecutive recital he would be missing. He didn’t know how to break the news to his wife this time.

“I, uh..”

“Oh no. Oh no no. You can’t –”

“I’m sorry, darling. I really am! I’ll talk to him, I promise!”

“You cannot possibly think I’m ok with this!? Do you know that you haven’t attended a single one of his performances? Can’t you make an hour’s time for your son??” she asked, her tone accusatory.

“I’m really sorr –”

“Please. Don’t. You are hardly ever home, and even if you are, you stay in your study. You can’t make time for your own son, your wife. How important is your damn work? Is it more so than your family? You are depriving a son of his father and a wife of her husband. I have nothing more to say to you.”

She cut the call.

This too was usual. They often fought over his absence at home, important functions.

But he always tried to reason with her saying that his hard work is what offers them a luxurious life. He had never had one himself. He wanted his son to have one. He always had to think twice before spending on anything, had to curb his demands while seeing his other rich friends get what they want and also what they didn’t. He didn’t want this to happen to his son. He didn’t want him to cope with financial difficulties at a young age. So he worked and slogged his guts out.

“But you can’t buy your son some time with his father, you fool!” his wife would yell.

He just didn’t want to deprive his son of a good, secure life. Why couldn’t she understand that he was doing it all for them?

He stopped thinking about his wife and son, and continued through the day. He met his boss, who unloaded his own worries on him, his subordinate, quite conveniently. He took it silently and promised better results. This promise he will have to keep.

He walked back to his cabin, sat down and decided to grab some shut eye before starting with the report. He checked the time, it was 1817h. When is the recital, he wondered. He picked up the phone and dialed his wife’s number. He’ll make up for it tonight, he decided. He’ll take the weekend off and be with his son, he decided.

“Hello? Mr. Roy?” asked a male voice, instead of his wife.

“Huh? Hello? Who are you?”

“Mr. Roy, I’m speaking from Grant General Hospital. Sir, I’m extremely sorry to tell you, but your wife and son…

P. S. A short story after a long time. Disclaimer: Completely fictional. No happy anything…


When you leave them, when they leave you…

This is the last post on Parenting Parents, my theme for the month of June. Yes, I’m a day late, it isn’t Sunday anymore, but hey! I’m on a holiday! Every day is a Sunday!

Why am I trying to lighten the mood? Well, because the topic isn’t all that jovial. I’ve talked about all the day-to-day examples in which children find themselves taking care of their parents, but I haven’t written about the times when children leave home, leave their parents alone. Parents don’t do that…not until they do…

Due to recent events, I found myself crying uncontrollably one day, in front of my parents. Now, I don’t cry often. At least not publicly. And definitely not in front of my parents. I prefer not feeling so vulnerable. I prefer not feeling so vulnerable in front of my parents. After all, I have to be strong for them. They can’t take it when I cry. But, that day, I was. I couldn’t keep it in any longer.

Why was I crying? Well, because I was worried. I always am, but I was more worried than usual. I am about to leave and go far away, to a foreign land. And the separation kills them more than me and that is precisely what I am worried about. Their safety, health, their life, a nagging worry consumed me and I began to think that it might be better to just stay, to know that they are fine, to keep close and take care of them.

I am not one of those who forgets her parents. True, I tend to talk less when busy or talk more to my peers many times, but that is changing. I am phasing out of my teens, becoming more responsible. Responsible enough to know when I am not making time, right? It is a start! Hence, in the future, I won’t be forgetting them. They told me the same thing. If I make a good life for myself, I’ll be in a better position to help them. They convinced me that if, for that, separation is necessary, so be it.

So they gave a reason for me to leave them, for now. But what about if they leave me? That won’t even be temporary…What’ll I do? How will I deal with it?

The answer to how will I deal with it, I don’t know. I would never want to know, but alas, life doesn’t give that option, does it? I hope I have a better handle at life by then and better emotional maturity.

In today’s world, along with the emotional trauma of separation, the financial dependence that off-springs have on their parents makes for an added trauma of how-will-I-survive-in-this-world- without-my-parents’-support. I told them about the big risks we are taking, with the huge loan for my education. And in between all this, if something untoward happens, god forbid/touch wood, what if we fall into debts we can’t repay? Well, they assured me that they have taken care of it. I did stop crying, eventually.

Why am I telling you about how they consoled me? Especially when the post should be about how I console them..? Well, at times, you just can’t parent your parents. At times, the roles can’t be reversed. They are your parents for a reason. You are and will always be their child. You just have to let that be the way it is.

P. S. Brought on by a recent nightmare. Dad said that my subconscious mind has been cleansed…he doesn’t know that consciously, it never will be rid of my worries…Parent- chuck! (sigh)

It’s gonna be alright, parents!

“Did you fall and hurt your knee, my dear??”

“Yes,” the little girl tells her Mother.

“Aww, it’s going to be alright, honey!” consoles her Mother.


“Did the boy bully you, sweetie?”

“Yes,” says the little girl to her Father.

“It’s going to be just fine, don’t worry, I’m here!” says her Father.


10 years later:

“I can’t believe they fooled us like this!”

“It’s okay, Dad, it’s going to be alright!”


“He spoke really rudely to me, no respect!”

“I’ll take care of it, Mom! Don’t worry at all.”


“Hello? You have to go through me to get to my parents. Steer clear.”


When I was a kid, I used to play. This was probably 15 years ago. I used to play a lot and fall a lot, hurting myself. I would cry and run home, to be lovingly consoled. A few years later, I was the target of many bullies. I would come home crying, to be lovingly consoled. Most of us go through this and most of us have a family who help us through it all. Our parents or our loved ones always support us in trying times. But what happens when the roles are reversed? Do you think the roles aren’t reversed? If you do, you are wrong.

Our parents, as and when they grow older, become more vulnerable to the bad things in the world. True, they have experience on their side, but the world is getting difficult to cope with even for us, the present youth, hence, imagine the condition for them. After all, it is a world different from their own youth. So, sometimes, they find themselves in tough situations wherein they have to be consoled because it affects them badly. They are shaken and require a pillar of strength. The day you start helping them get through all the hurt and falling down, you start parenting your parents, a little.


So, the deal with the education loan began, for my further studies. My parents and I came to a consensus that I will focus on my studies and they will concentrate on the finances. But one day, I received a call from my very flabbergasted parents complaining about the bank, how they cheated them, didn’t reveal all the details, changed the whole deal at the last moment, the entire game, made things so difficult, etc. I heard them out, and what did I do? Well, I let them vent. It was a shock to them. They do have experiences with the system, bad ones, when they were fooled, manipulated, conned. But age is catching up now and the idea that things might not work out or that they have run out of strength to run around from one place to another, stuck in the whirlpool that the “helpful system” is, had shocked them.

After the initial shock had ebbed, the frustration vented out, I proposed the strategy of going elsewhere for the loan. A slightly higher rate of interest, but after I made them calculate the difference and reasoned that the difference will nearly be equal to the amount spent on running around here and there, trying to get work done for which they are paying the money, they decided that the elsewhere option is a better option.

What did I learn from this? Like us, our parents get taken aback too, and under such circumstances, they have no one, but us, to come to for advice. And they do. It is our duty to help them out, to console them, to make time.


Well, I am not one of the blessed ones, who have a wonderful family, the extended one. I might say that I don’t care, but I do. My blood boils at the mention of most of them and I have myself executed severance of ties with a couple of them. I am just 21. Until recently, my word was no word because well, I was the “kid”. Apparently, I still am. So they say. It annoys me, but I guess I have to ignore such comments now. There isn’t time to dwell on such trivial matters. But let me assure you, a large family doesn’t always mean a loving family. In fact, it could be the opposite. Scheming and being jealous are characteristic traits of this ‘opposite’ kind of family. Nosing into unconcerned matters is a compulsion here.

So, anyway, until recently, I was too young to be involved. But my parents have been. I know the whole story and I am not biased. If I think my parents are wrong, I tell them. I am allowed to have an opinion in my house. But from how wonderfully I see my parents being treated and how unashamedly they act indifferent to my Father’s struggle, I have no doubt about who is right or wrong. And unfortunately, the concept of a happy joint family has been ruined for me. I don’t believe in it and I never will. The joyous reunion of all family members, the reminiscing, the stories shared over a big feast, I have never seen this and I never will. Due to the bad name given to relations on one side, I don’t think I will ever truly be able to appreciate the love bestowed on me by my Mother’s side. How sad is that?

So, anyway. This was me venting. But there are a couple of instances where I took action. Remember the bullies? How at times, parents had to intervene? This is just the same, but a more ferocious version. I cannot stand my parents being wronged, no one can. So what do I do? I thrash the bullies. Once it was because of a cousin speaking ill about my Father, I very politely asked them to never bother us again. Second time, it was an obnoxious cousin, speaking for his Mother, who should have minded her own business, but couldn’t. He couldn’t talk nicely to my Mother, so I very politely, on a level far above his reach, asked him to keep him and his Mother to himself. The satisfaction that you get when you counter an invective with, “You’ll talk better if you knew whom you were talking to,” is immense, especially when the other party thinks he is still on line with my meek Mother and not me, who won’t hesitate being equally crass.

These are instances when I had the opportunity to defend my parents and I feel proud about it. I am no longer the “kid”. I am a force to be reckoned with, especially when it concerns my parents. True, I am leaving them, but I’ll always be a phone call away. And for us, family is us three. Only we matter.

P. S. This was to be the post for the 3rd Sunday of June. Better late than never! Happy parenting! 🙂