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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 a newly installed Whirlpool dishwasher, a daughter who rides to school in her Disney Princess, a 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 meetup: ripped jeans and carrot pink scoop neck bling top 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 story, please click on  MISSTEP . Image courtesy-Pixabay

What is easy to break- His Heart or your Father's dreams?

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I regret choosing love over my father’s dreams. Then what? During the first year of college, I met this amazing man and tossed my dreams like a paper ball 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 traveling 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 that turns my patio with five green plants into Hawaii. Do you believe that true freedom is freedom from oneself? I have realized that of many things that upset me, of many things that push and prick me, it is my own self that is the most bothersome. It is easy to deal with others,

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 omelet 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 unique way. Thank god for small mercies. Click on  My FIL's Kurta  to read the story.

The Riot

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“Oh! Such a tiring night. These Indian parties are backbreaking. Naina felt so exhausted holding me around. Phew! It is 11:00pm,” remarked the saree, disturbing the silent slumber of the closet. She carried an air of immutable superiority, stemming from her roots and did not miss an opportunity to assert it over to the ones she called ‘outsiders’. “And we have so much competition, I felt backseat with such long sleeves. They were going gaga over you though Sia.” The blouse let out a big groan that woke up most of the other dresses in the wide horizontal closet. Click on  The Riot  to read the full story. Image courtesy-Pixabay