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Showing posts with the label Living a Meaningful Life

I Am My Own Person

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Like almost every MIL and DIL, my MIL and I too share a bitter-sweet relationship. But here are a few things I would like her to know. What do you mean when you call me  ‘bahuraani’ ? Queen? Like a queenly queen? As in a bejeweled queen treated with care? Well, I am sure you don’t mean that! Oh come on, you just  say  it. That’s just your lips saying it. To read the article, click on  I am my own person .  Image Courtesy-Pixabay

Can we have another lockdown please?

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  Dear Ms.Harris, Congratulations on making history. Of everything that you stand for today, Momala is my favorite. It gives me a hard nudge on my rear to stop lamenting over being single at 38 and of course childless. Unbelievable, right? 2020, right? I admire you for the two key choices you made for your life- marrying when you felt it was right and becoming the mother you felt was right. Both fall outside the ‘acceptable’ and the ‘standard’. Both subject to indiscriminate scrutiny and gossip. Because you are Kamala Harris, the gossip dare not raise their hood. For me, they are sleeping partners. Although I know- we all can choose not to deter, digress, and divert. That, I am sure you will agree, requires immense courage and conviction: most of the days, I surrender. It is not the status per se that is bothersome, it is the verdict that people pass without understanding and awareness. Just yesterday they babbled with impudence, “ That happens. Marriage provides the stability, and yo

The Part-Time Indian

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She stares idly into the distance, an empty ceramic tumbler in front of her. “The beach there is different…in my country.” She says lost in the reverie of the waves.  Did she say bitch to me? No, No, it’s the beach, the beach of Mexico. I remind myself of the Mexican Spanish accent. People’s vowels and consonants, my own diction is my Achilles heel even after years of mac and cheese.  Why would she call her life-coach a bitch? Calming my heart, I try to concentrate. Usually, I am the focussed type, I can come to the point easily. A seasoned counselor,  I can anticipate in the first five minutes the story which has got the weary heart to my doorsteps. To read the full story- Click on - The Part-Time Indian  on Kitaab International.  Image courtesy-Pixabay. 

Covidiary- I feel lonely with the Virus.

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Literature, on its own, I wonder can change anything? The qwerty key could be mightier than the virus( isn’t that the most potent weapon available) but words alone don’t bring change. People do. Hence I write. Though, as I write, the word ‘change’ rushes adrenaline into my system so fast that I am ready to vomit. Click on the link  I feel lonely with the Virus  to read the full story on Medium.  Image credit-Pixabay

TOP BLOGGERS

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This feels great Thank you Readers.  Thank you Readers ...and when you rule the year itself

I know what God looks like

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Who does that? Why should anyone do that? Huh! We finally have a face to the GOD we all believe in, whom we never got to see in real life otherwise. A thank you looks just so short and brief, almost disappearing before it appears, nonetheless, the feeling of indebtedness continues. Did we get it wrong all along?  To read the article click on   I know what GOD looks like! Image courtesy-Pixabay

The Truth Is, Being Successful Is Hard

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"I am not poor, the digestive juices in my stomach are currently churning a warm bowl of oats with milk, bananas and blueberries. The afternoon lunch is usually simple, a veggie wrap with ginger tea or an Indian lentil pancake. I have a $1550 two-bedroom luxury apartment with newly installed Whirlpool dishwasher, a daughter who rides to school in her Disney Princess, fuchsia pink bike with shiny streamers hanging from the handles, my husband prefers sex Friday nights post our dose of Malbec or Sauvignon Blanc strictly ranging between $13-$19 and chicken teriyaki from Panda Express." To read the full article, click on  Being Successful Is Hard   Image courtesy-Pixabay

Feminist?

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“Now what wrong did your bra do to you? Your nipples are popping out,” Pratima Siddhesh Prajapati , the 63-year-old widow of Lt. Siddhesh Prajapati, Ex-Vice President, UFLEX International, raised her eyebrows by inches when she saw her 33-year-old daughter Naina get ready for her  school alumni meet, her jeans distressed and her carrot pink scoop neck bling top way too relaxed, falling off from one side of the shoulder, revealing the fair, young skin and something else too.  To read the full story click on  Feminist? Image courtesy-Pixabay

MISSTEP- One wrong step, a lifetime of remorse.

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“Oh! So, your son was in an extramarital affair?” Naina's voice quivered at the very mention of the word. “Ouch! That word sounds so painful but yes! And my daughter-in-law discovered and attempted suicide too.” To enjoy the full story please click on  MISSTEP Image courtesy-Pixabay

I am Sorry ...But

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I regret choosing love over my father’s dreams Then what? I met this amazing man during the first year of college and tossed my dreams, like a paper ball and threw it out of the hostel room window, losing myself between the sheets. To read the winning blog  for #NoRegrets Blogathon presented by Harper Collins and Women's Web click  I am Sorry But.... Disclaimer- This story has a semb lance to people living or dead but why should that matter. I met her on a train journey a few years back. I met her on Cathay Pacific airlines during a trip to Hong Kong. I met her during a cruise vacation to the Royal Caribbean. I met her on the road, in the parking lot, on the pathway. I met her yesterday, I met her 13 years back. She is here and she is there and she is nowhere, yet she is everywhere. Image Courtesy-Pixabay

CLOSE TO DEATH

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Have you ever thought of escaping to Hawaii or the Bahamas in search of some peace, freedom and fresh air and realize later, while lying on the golden sandy beach that you have carried your miserable self along or the present is not delighting you the way you expected? I am not the exotic type, I have no big plans of travelling around the world, soaking on a beach in the Caribbean, hiking the world's most famous canyon, exploring ancient ruins, eating delicious cuisine or learning more about a significant historical  site. If I bump into them, I will pause, wonder , smile and move on. If I don't , I am FINE. My biggest vacation is freedom from my mind and the voices it creates, a kind of freedom which turns my patio with five green plants into Hawaii. Do you believe that true freedom is freedom from oneself? Whoa...Chills,chills,chills....And that is so true. I have come to realize that of many things that upset me, of many things that push and prick me, it

My Father in-law's kurta

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My FIL knows I like wine and had his health and family allowed him, I am sure he and I would be all ‘CHEERS’. My husband’s family is a teetotaler except for my FIL.  He enjoys omelette treats with me on the terrace( that’s the only place we can cook the forbidden) and even secretly supplies me ‘ tangdi kebab ’ knowing very well that my ‘ tangdi ’ and his would be in trouble if ‘The House’ got to know about it. But he has me covered in his own special way. Thank god for small mercies. Click on  My FIL's Kurta  to read the full story.

Color Color which Color do you choose?

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"Maa, Indian or American is not the question anymore. Come out of the tombs in Agra. The world has changed and we need to keep up the pace.” Naina lamented on the WhatsApp video call while letting out a big yawn. “Wait, let me get some tea for myself.” “Nainu, you listen to me. Whatever you say, do not compromise on Pihu’s Indian values. You and Shubham chose to settle in America much to our displeasure. Now, don’t play with Pihu’s life,” Amma complained. Click on  Indian-woman-American-motherhood  to read the full story. Image courtesy-Pixabay

Trapped

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He smiled and handed it back to her, “I love this hot pink Maa. Do you think Draupadi would like hot pink? I forgot to tell you...I am playing Draupadi in our college production... rehearsals started a week back." “Oh! That’s nice. When is the program?” she asked. “On the day of Diwali. The team thought I could really do well as Draupadi. You know I have those  adaayein  Maa,” Arjun threw his hand over his bosom, lowering his eyelids with coyness of a girl. Click on  Trapped  to read the full story. Image courtesy-Pixabay

The weight on my breasts.

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"When I was growing up, YOU had a problem with my gender, then my complexion, then the small size of my breast , then my height, later my puberty, then college choice, career choice, choice of friends, hair on my armpits, choice of what I wear, choice of what I don’t wear, choice of hair and habits, choice of the short skirt and stilettos, body-hugging tee, amount of words I spoke, hand gestures, loud voice, mannerisms , boldness, places I visited, the time I visited, why I visited and with whom, my red lipstick to my nose stud, my beer and my sex on the beach, my religion, rituals I follow, fasting’s that I do not do, one leg anklet that I am in love with, the cuss words that I speak or do not speak…basically, my very existence." To read the full story click on  the weight on my breasts!   This article was featured on Mompresso and widely read and appreciated.  Image courtesy-Pixabay

Life Calling

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“What’s the difference Naina? I understand your pain. But people make a living because it is important to live life.” “I am making more than a living Chandana. it’s just that I find it all meaningless… an emptiness where I am all about numbers, targets, awards, promotions, pay package, a kind of excess which is making me unhappy. I think I am missing out on life?” “And what exactly is that?” “I am not sure; can’t put my finger on it and say- this is it, but I know that the abundance that I have is not making me happy. It doesn’t give me joy.” Click on  Life Calling  to read the full story. Image courtesy-Pixabay

Phew! From the diary of an obsessive thinker

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"I see her again and I feel the envy rise. 120 seconds before I had decided not to ever visit her Facebook profile, exactly 120 seconds later my mind forces me, and I read her new post, actually old for me, it has been 16 hours since she posted, and I have visited, read, re read, processed it 16000 times. With father and son on a camping trip over the weekend, I am drowning in the company of happy faces on Facebook.   FB ruined me, almost literally. If I had the powers, I could get the owners of FB arrested for unleashing a heinous social crime on us. Or is it just me? May be, just me. My mind cannot stop. I need to see a shrink." Click on  Phew!  to read the full story. Image courtesy-Pixabay

MOTION EMOTION

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"The other day, the doctor ordered a stool test, then concluded that I have to give up the yogurt, lactose intolerance or some shit like that to get the shit out of me. They say one way would be to throw the yogurt and start afresh." To read the full story click on  Motion-Emotion Image courtesy-Pixabay

In the Business of Life

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My most precious Gratitude, Your accent, your dialect, your jargon, your lingua franca is difficult to decrypt, decipher and understand. I have struggled all my life and realize that you can only be felt. I read somewhere today that you are dying a silent death. It gives me immense satisfaction to know that you choose to live in me. Is there something special about my heart or is it my stubbornness that I don’t let you go? Either ways, I am happy. You see, you have kept me right where I belong- ON THE GROUND, IN DUST. I started a life with my parents where we were always ‘IN- NEED’. A humble life brings in its own grand challenges and turmoil. I hated the thriftiness then, despised the frugality which enveloped my life and once even thought of stealing a Barbie from a friend’s house because I didn’t have one. You saved me then. But I didn’t thank you. You see then, my eyes could only see that much. Later, life blessed me with abundance, beyond my appetite, my need