Happy 2018

It is the weekend, month end and most importantly the year-end. in a few hours 2018 will ushered in with great pomp and show. Another 365 days of opportunities and options await us.We leave behind, regrets, losses, disappointments and mistakes and step into another 365 days with great optimism.So what if you don't get it right?

Says Neil Gamin, "I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.because if you are making mistakes , then you are making new things, trying new things,learning, living...

   
2017 was marked by the usual highs and lows. Life looked up for some and for others -well things may not have worked out quite as they may have wished for. Hope is the eternal spring...Let us hope for the best and may God help us accept what 2018 has in store for us.   

All That Glitters is not Gold.

 The corporate world today offers its employees the option of  'working from home ' It is convenient and timings are flexible. Quite a few avail of this opportunity and are happy because household errands and chores can be accommodated together with office work.
There is another side to 'working from home' or 'work from home' which is ugly and unfair. Every day newspapers carry hundreds of advertisements luring unsuspecting victims with bountiful rewards. These jobs may include data entry jobs or telemarketing jobs. The victims often include bored housewives or housewives looking to earn a few extras bucks or college students wanting some pocket money. The perpetrators are looking for quick money by way of a  fee. Sometimes there is no investment but the returns are pathetic.

Two members of my family were taken for a jolly good ride. One recounts his horrific experience while calling it an outright scam.
"The policy was: Data had to be sent within a time limit and had to have 80% accuracy. A few test pages were sent.the pages were typed within the specified time and returned. No analysis of the test was given. The entire assignment was mailed in the PDF format and the same had to be typed in notepad
The assignment did not make sense as there was no link between the pages.  However, due to the speed requirements, errors were bound to occur. Errors were calculated not at the rate of 80% per page but 80% of the entire assignment. this gave them a greater opportunity to prevent clearance. 
My opinion is that this is simply an operation to generate money. The user is made to invest a steep sum, looking forward to generous returns but he is told that the number of errors is high and he will not be paid anything. 
Food for thought is that the document is 2 to 3 years old. Why would such an old document kept pending for so long? Secondly, the space between lines is too little and some of the characters are smudged. Under these circumstances, errors are bound to happen and payment is thereby forfeited. 

The job is a scam when:

 The rewards are too good to be true
There is a high investment or no investment.
The websites do not open up or they are fake websites. 
The so-called employer calls you repeatedly. 

The allure of the big bucks has caused the deepest disappointment to many.The blatant dishonesty speaks poorly of humankind. So guys do your homework well before you find yourself in the depths of despair. 

Weathering the storms of life.

I woke up from my afternoon siesta to gloomy skies, a gentle breeze and loud claps of thunder, interspersed by streaks of lightning. I was surprised at this change in weather. The intense heat of the last few days had abated and the rain fell from a gentle drizzle to a short sharp heavy downpour. The thunder continued  - loud and scary. I was not happy. My plans for the evening had gone awry.
 The weather has been so unpredictable - one day you are roasting in an oven and the next your are humming 'singing in the rain'. 
 So is life, I say - A perfect 10 today and nothing but nought tomorrow. Man proposes and God disposes. 
 Stay strong, stay brave, stay calm, pray and save!!

Pieces not peace

So it was another night of terror, where the innocent and unarmed were targeted by a seemingly innocent but mentally deranged man. Terror is not just the sound of gunshots.....

 Terror is rape

Terror is incest

Terror is domestic violence

Terror is molestation

Terror is child abuse 

 Terror is burglary

Dear God save us from terror!!!

Happenings

Three birthdays and too much cake in one week.The significant other turned 61(age is just a number, you say), there was a milestone birthday with the firstborn turning 21and it was the lucky and last teenage birthday of the junior sweet tooth.
 The milestone birthday made me realise that there is now technically one more adult at home. What's in store for me? I wonder.Three males - A twenty-one-year-old, a 19-year-old and a 61-year-old(read 16)I find myself pitted against 3 males!! One day at a time sweet Jesus!
 Death and destruction have marked the recent past. Innocent lives claimed by cowards. Will justice prevail? Will the criminals be brought to book?
 An outspoken journalist and activist is gunned down because she spoke her mind, a seven-year-old is brutally murdered because he fought his perverted assailant and a talented pianist allegedly jumps to his death. How more gruesome does it get? How many more precious lives will end before we are freed from the shackles of hate, jealousy, ego and pride? When will John Lennon's'Imagine'  become 'real'?    
As we lament this unnecessary loss of life, we rejoice at the release of an Indian  Catholic priest held captive by terrorists for more than a year. Praise God! 

From Children to Men - happy birthday

Son,
This is a milestone birthday and you are twenty-one.
from a baby with colic to a man of music,
The journey has sure been an exciting one.
Your childish chatter on tape is but a precious keepsake,
The years have flown; you, child have grown,
A man soon to come into his own. 

It was touch and go, but today you have so much to show.
 Life is sometimes an  uphill climb, just continue to smile, be gentle and kind
May happiness and good luck come knocking at your door.
May the good lord be with you wherever you go!

You came to us a good 40 days early. It seemed that you were not going to be with us for long - Nana said that you looked like a tiny black rat, with zero chances of survival but it has been 21 years and you are alive and kicking!
There were many, many moments of anxiety and fear but you little man, put up a brave fight and today we raise a toast to 21 years of 'awesome'. 
A powerhouse of talent you have excelled in almost every field, music being your alpha and omega. You were a tot of 8 when you sat crosslegged for your first music lesson. which left your music teacher in wonder. From the school stage to the choir to the Hard Rock  Cafe's, you have seen it all and done it all as your fingers fly over the keys of the piano or the keyboard. 
We praise the Lord for the talent that he has bestowed on you. Rock on son!!


WE  were blessed a second time - with a 2.75 kg bundle of joy.   

You have your own brand of humour dearest son,
Sometimes tearful and sometimes bubbling with fun
You have won over the hearts of everyone. 

You are nineteen and unique.
Enjoy the last of your teen year, soon it will be  through

Have fun in all that you do,

 May the good Lord rain  blessings down on you. 

A Deluge Revisited

The city is back on its feet after the deluge last week. Water logging, flooding and a few untimely deaths because of negligence marked August 29th2017.  Mumbaikars relived July 2005 on August 29th 2017. The richest municipal corporation in India received the thrashing of its life from all quarters for its apathy towards the citizens and shoddy maintenance of infrastructure.Every time a deluge happens Mumbaikars experience a sense of Deja vu. Will the corporation ever learn or ever care? 

 As always, in these difficult times, the 'good -samaritan' spirit of the Mumbaikars comes to the fore. The numerous shelters that mushroomed were amazing and there have been testimonies to the same. 

 On one hand, we hail the famed Mumbaikar spirit which the municipal corporation seems to have taken for granted and on the other hand if  Mumbaikars practised a little more civic sense the city may not find itself in these hopeless situations. 

Civic sense and a greater responsibility on the part of the municipal corporation would make the city a better place altogether. 

This and That

Indians celebrated 70 years of glorious freedom from foreign rule on the 15th.There was flag hoisting and there were speeches and the usual rhetoric.Th

e working crowd and students enjoyed another break as our Parsi brethren celebrate yet another new year. Navroze Mubarak.
 The rains continue, sometimes quite dispiritedly and sometimes we enjoy a torrential downpour.As I write this the sun is playing peek - a -boo.We are eight months into the year.Preparations are on to welcome lord, Ganesh.The junior sweet tooth in the house is looking forward to sinking his teeth into modaks, the delicacy of the festival.A slew of festivals follow.   So far the year has seen two good Hindi movies, Lipstick under the burqa and Toilet... Ek Prem Katha.  both of which have done a pretty good job in sending a message across. Hindi cinema does have its good days.
 Talking about Hindi cinema takes me back to my college days when there was no online booking and no e -tickets. Blockbuster or flop we had to see them all. The college happened to be located close to a popular picture theatre and as half the gang bunked a couple of lectures to stand in the queue for tickets, the other half trooped in later. When I say, gang, I mean 22. We patronized every theatre in town. Recalling those fun days brings a twinkle and a  tear to my eye and a smile upon my lips.

A Need to Read.

Something that I miss dreadfully from my spinsterhood days is curling up with a good book. Recently a classmate from the school WhatsApp group suggested that the group talk books. Out tumbled the names of books, authors, 'have - read', 'must - read' and presently reading. Many have continued to be voracious readers like while others like yours truly were rediscovering the joys of reading.
My first tangible memory of this very pleasurable hobby was the book 'A basketful of surprises by Enid Blyton that dad brought home for me. There was no turning back.I was hooked. My parents both book lovers supported my passion for reading.  As a child, Enid Blyton was a hot favourite. I gradually moved on to the adventures of the Hardy boys and Nancy Drew.Richmal Crompton's William saw me chuckling away to glory  There was this book shack that dad dropped me off where for many years I kept alive my passion for reading. Together with Enid Blyton and Nancy Drew, the lives and times of Archie, Betty, Veronica, Jughead and the rest of the gang, Little Lotta, Dot, The Flintstones kept me entertained.Comics is not 'serious reading' but they sure are a part of growing up. 

   Dad was averse to Mills and Boon, so during that phase of my life, I played a lot of hide and seek with dad.

Yes, I have sunk my teeth into all genres(except for science fiction) reading by day and late into the night.Reading was a pure delight. Then I tied the knot, the boys were born in quick succession and life was never the same again. Raising my kids and keeping house left me with very little time to indulge in my favourite past time. Over the years I did join a local library and introduced the boys to the world of books while trying to pick up from where I had left off. Thanks to a friend, I began reading Maeve Binchy. Jason, my older son turned out to be a bookworm,   but for the past few years, the soon to be 21 has not looked at a novel. "I am into text books," ma he quips.
Here I am, scouring the e- tailers for good bargains. I've taken a fancy to Ruskin Bond- I need his quiet humour in my chaotic life. 

Friendsmaynot be forever

This post may contradict an earlier post, 'Friends are forever.' I am 53 and have I lost any friends along the way? I read this rather interesting article about 'losing friends along the way' The writer received a forward that said, 'if you are not losing friends then you are not growing up.'
 No man is an island and friends are an elixir to life. Life happens, you make friends and somewhere along the way you begin to lose touch with some of them, you find that you have very little or nothing in common, your goals and dreams differ, you walk different paths in pursuit of your goals and dreams and you make new friends along those paths.  Hence in order to achieve your dreams and goals and to grow says the writer losing friends is inevitable. "In order to move on, you need to outgrow people and situations.'You don't need to break friendships, you stay in touch but just about. 
 My significant other swears by the fact that your only friends are the friends that you made in childhood and the college gang that you hung out with.By and large that belief contains many grains of truth.  There are however exceptions to the rule as chaddi-buddies are also known to have drifted apart. 
Social media has helped us find long lost friends, made reunions happen but many on our friend list remain faces and names on the list with no action or interaction. Some virtual 'friendships' are most disconnected. 
Count your friends when your life has been engulfed by storm clouds and you are sinking into the depths of despair. How many will help you weather the storm? Of those that hung out with you how many will hang in with you helping you weather the storm? I am thankful to those who have hung out with me in good times and bad. 
 "A friend in need is a pest indeed'

Another good read - How can you learn to love your own fate? believe in AmorFAti and embrace life as a warrior. 

Amor Fati, says Nona Walia is a latin term which means that you don't just accept your fate but you learn to love it. 
Life is no bed of roses, The roses come with thorns. impossible as it may seem you would do well to embrace and accept the thorns, find the silver lining and take the bull by the horns. .Experience has taught me that complaining and brooding change nothing except for making matters worse.Complaining breeds bitterness and resentment which is not good for health.  Bad things are bound to happen - just let go and the bad things will be gone. Am I right or wrong? 

53 and counting...

It is a quiet Sunday afternoon. I have just woken up from my siesta and thought that I would pen a few lines on the eve of my 53rd birthday.So what do I have to say for myself? 

I was a few kilos lighter last year at this time. The jeans  I wore last year on my birthday are a little too snug for comfort this year. Ah! but isn't that what life is all about? you lose some and you win some!I was in conversation with a college friend whom I have not seen for thirty plus years and we thought that the gang should meet up before ailments get the better of us. Our spirits are up and age is just a number. 
This one year has been none too eventful. Mostly boring house hold chores, mundane stuff but in between, I have managed to crack an article writing course that I had enrolled for 3 years ago and have rediscovered the joys of being a bibliophile in the last  12 months. I consider that quite a  feat for a boring old homemaker! I am presently enjoying Ruskin Bond's subtle humour. Turning pages after all that scrolling is kind of rejuvenating. My very newly cultivated hobby - a potted garden is(tending to precisely 3 pots as of now) seeing me on cloud 9. There is that green and white croton, a Hibiscus plant and a Mogra plant. The huge pale pink and peach hibiscus blossoms are truly a sight for sore eyes.The croton perched on the ledge is a balm to the soul.My better - half gifted me what most women never ever have enough of - clothes and a visit to the salon. 
Here's  to another year of growth and expansion of only and only the grey matter and yes my potted

garden

Not Quite the Garden of Eden.

After a 2-week computer malfunction, I am back to hammering at those keys. The rain  - gods are officially in town but we are still to bear the brunt of the full monsoon. The skies remain overcast with short, sharp intermittent showers.
The Monsoon brings with it, the colour green and the greenery seems infectious. Friends have been posting pictures of beautiful flowers and luscious fruits and I decide to try my hand at gardening.  Mom was an avid gardener many moons ago tending to an array of plants and taking pride in some bright and beautiful blossoms. I was not the least bit interested but today at  50plus am an aspiring green thumb. I live in an apartment in a big, noisy city and so have to make do with a potted garden. I bought two seasonal flowering plants - I am not even quite sure of their names.I was helped by the 18-year-old to set up the potted

garden.He has inherited grandma's love for plants.He has planted a tiny mint plant. The lack of space does not allow many pots or we must get down to some serious organising in the balcony.   There were pretty white flowers on one and yellow on the other. Sadly the plant with yellow flowers died  I did feel more than a tinge of disappointment.The other plant seems to be doing well. but what's that they say? "try try never say die!"Hopefully, I will be able to post pictures of my potted garden one day!

The sugar and spice that is life.

 Fatherhood was celebrated today.The father here was most anxious that his sons wish him and they thankfully did not disappoint. You never know what to expect from 2 males on the threshold of adulthood.Daddy dearest has cashed the cheque presented to him and has shared the bar of dark chocolate with mommy. It was the first time in 22years that mommy had gifted him something from her small but valuable earnings.  Surprisingly there were not too many Father's day texts flying around.  A few had changed their dp's in honour of their fathers. There were a few pictures on Facebook of friends with their fathers or friends remembering their late fathers. The fervour that mother's day generates was missing. ( I could be mistaken)Biologically, a daddy is required to make a mommy, but as things stand today,  modern families may have 2 mommies raising a child or 2 daddies raising a child or a single mommy or daddy raising a child.
 The weekend saw a family reunion at a memorial service for a recently deceased aunt. As is the case family reunions generally take place at weddings and funerals. The junior musician along with his band of boys set the beat for some head banging music at Hard Rock Cafe in Pune. It's called 'Post Rock' music - whatever that means.
Columnist and writer  Shobha De in her latest column in a newspaper explores the concept of insecurity that we are so bogged down with.  'Why are we so insecure?'she asks as she goes about installing CCTV cameras in her home before heading out on a vacation.  Basically, trust is a lost word today, she says. Stories about abandonment, apathy, distrust and despair are daily fare in newspapers. On cue, I met a senior citizen and we got chatting. The silver-haired lady began reminiscing about the past, told tales about times when neighbours would even share a dish well prepared or chat over a cup of chai.  Do we even know who our neighbours are today? Folks remain well connected on social media but quite disconnected otherwise. The internet and the array of electronic devices have done wonders for us- Life is fast and more comfortable but somewhere, something has been lost.Children don't play as much as they should- thanks to the virtual world that they have immersed themselves in.One chats online most of the time rather than offline. Emoticons take the place of emotions, one is distracted by the constant buzz when one is writing. - That one must make it a point to grow up and switch off that buzz when she is working. One may also be tempted to attend to every buzz which is not a good habit.

When bad things happen, you wonder what hit you, why and how it happened and most importantly why it happened to you.Life is hardly fair and the grass is always greener on the other side. 

How do you deal with the crap that life hands out to you? Do you accept your fate or do you fight tooth and nail to turn your life around? 

You are first overwhelmed by feelings of deep resentment and hatred which breed feelings of distrust and despair. You just can't fathom what went wrong -Be it a failing marriage, a financial crisis or delinquent children. Sometimes you cannot change your fate however much you hope and wish for otherwise. You have had a financial breakdown, your life has been ripped apart.You have been told that it is all coming together but  your faith in mankind has been broken. However you have no choice but to keep going. There are other lives that depend on you, so you  decide to take the bull by the horns. 

Be thankful for the small mercies. God works in wondrous ways!

Rants and raves under a June sky.

May slipped out and June slipped in. We are half way through the year. There were ups and downs, highs and lows, laughter and tears. Terror raised its ugly head twice too soon in London and  Mr. Donald Trump opted out of the Paris climate change agreement.  Back home the sex life of the peacock was in the news, the moral police were at work trolling a certain film star for being 'indecently dressed' as she met the PM.
Tejas, the superfast express train between Mumbai and Goa was vandalised on its very first run by none other than the commuters - 'shame shame Bhartiya vaasi..'What is it with us that we so preciously guard and care for private space and choose to disregard public property? We employ maids to clean our homes but have no qualms about soiling a brand new toilet seat in a brand new train or stealing headphones from that very train.Amid strong protests and mock funerals, trees are being felled left, right and centre to make away for the metro in amchi Mumbai. I am reminded of Gieve Patel's poignant poem - On killing a tree. Mother Earth weeps.
 We are so very proud   that  Matunga railway station is to be completely manned by women.Isn't that a shot in the arm to women empowerment? Good luck ladies!The bottle crushing machines installed at 10 suburban railway stations are reported to be doing brisk business. Installed as part of the Swaachh Bharat Campaign last year the number of plastic bottles treated as of April 30th totalled to 2,07,871 . The recycled bottles are used to make, clothes, carpets and grocery bags. It is but a fitting tribute to mother earth on World Environment day. Now she weeps tears of joy. 

At home, academics are in the air. The first - born an engineering student by day and passionate musician by night is doing an internship in hope of securing a good placement while is the second is hard at work preparing for exams.  When did the wonder years wander away?
 One day at a time sweet Jesus...

Ambling along.

Deep heat is what we have been experiencing for the past couple of months. May 2017 will draw to a close in another few days and the countdown to the great Indian Monsoon will begin if it has not yet begun. On the international front, May 2017 was marked by President Donald Trump's visit to Israel and the suicide bombing in Manchester.How many more lives are to be lost before peace prevails? What kind of high does taking a life give you? Some demented people spreading fear and terror, cutting short precious lives..Closer home India continues to fight for the life of one of her sons.Have mercy on us, dear Lord!

Your mother is the first person in your life. She gives birth to you and then raises you the best of her ability. You may argue and fight but she remains your closest confidante. A once strong and active woman, now in her 81st year is frail and tired. She moves slowly  and speaks softly and is unsure most of the time. She is happy to be around her grandsons.They tell her to have a 'chill - pill' She dotes on them and they dote on her. She loves reading the newspaper and generally reads it from start to end.  You cannot quite accept the person that she is today. She rode a luna, stitched your clothes, cooked your food, took up your lessons, got you married and helped you raise your sons.

You try hard to convince yourself that ageing is inevitable and the changes that you see are inevitable. Nevertheless, she is the first person in your life and you must be grateful and thankful for the time you spent with her and are spending with her. Incidentally, mothers were honoured on the  14th of May. The offspring did not have a clue about the day. Boys will be boys. My friend's son remembered and wished her at lunch. "Better late than never," I say.

Someone remarked that we hand write very little these days and that someone was so right. Besides the odd cheque and a few grocery lists, what is there to write. Typing and texting are more like it. All the typing and texting has taken a toll on the handwriting. Today I am not very proud of my writing. Schools generally lay a lot of emphasis on handwriting and the school I attended was no different. I vividly remember being given pages of copywriting in a grade as high as 9. There were those red and blue lined copywriting books and your writing had to touch the lines. Are they still in use? 

The Scent of Summer

  May is drawing to a close and a blazing sun is scorching the city. The temperature is soaring and city folk are complaining. All through April, May and June we go 'blah, blah, blah' until the heavens burst open in June. However, with the romance of the rain, we have to contend with waterlogging slush,  muck and other problems. 
 Both school and college kids are currently on a well-deserved summer break. The soft drink and ice cream companies are reaping huge profits. The health-conscious though prefer to stick to good old chaas. (buttermilk) Quite a few Mumbaikars are reclining in cooler climes. The rest are being roasted and toasted in the summer sun.

The king of fruits is reigning supreme as fruit stalls and markets wear a golden yellow hue. The best news of all has been delivered by a popular nutritionist who has waxed eloquently on the nutritional benefits of the  Mango. "Exercising a little restraint, eat to your heart's content" he says. It's got fibre, it's got vitamin C, so indulge! From Aamras and puri for breakfast, aam ki launji and a variety of mango pickles,  and mango milkshakes we are a mango-happy nation delighting in the succulent fruit all summer. The watermelon is also loved by most and from sinking your teeth into the juicy fruit, you can use it in a salad with cucumber and feta cheese and drinks. 

Summer brings on the heat, sweat grime and a steep increase in your power bills but summer has a lesson for us all in that how to remain cool when life becomes too hot to handle. 

Buzzing Along.

Easter 2017 will be rather memorable. Two members of the family namely my significant other and our younger son had their pockets picked and cell phones were stolen. Like many of his generation this19-year-old is a 'phoney.' He eats, sleeps and breathes his cell phone. He was like a cat on a hot tin roof when the phone went missing. No sooner had he lodged the routine police complaint did he start making arrangements to buy a new one.When I say arrangements, I mean monetary arrangements - He did not need any assistance in choosing a new phone. His father was not too thrilled about the idea of purchasing a new phone so very quickly and suggested that he use the discarded tablet. Our young man was adamant. The tablet did not meet his needs and a new phone with a memory as big as an elephant was what he needed. Grandmothsr and mother together with a  dip into the young man's  nest egg have contributed to RED ME note 4 by Xiaomi.through a flash sale. 

I fondly remember the jet black rotary phone or landline perched on a shelf in the living room of the house that  I grew up in. We were one of few families who had the good fortune of having a phone at home.The phone was a source of absolute joy - We called relatives and friends, dad booked work related trunk calls from that phone, I spent some idyllic hours in teenage chatter on the machine and recall dad sternly asking me to hang up. The neighbours made calls and we received calls for the neighbours. 

There was gloom when the phone went out of order because restoring it back to working condition took awhile. A neighbour would have to register a complaint from his/ her phone and more often than not it was a game of patience and a few more calls till the phone worked again. 

  The phone helped you to speak to and hear from your near and dear ones. There was no question of family disintegration or addiction. Even today  we could be perfectly happy and healthy as long as we control the use of the cell phone rather than let the cell phone control our lives. 

Of Empty Nests and Blissful Weekends.

March4th, 2017
 A weekend.A blissful'nothing - to -do take  - it -easy ' in the air.Easter is around the corner.  The employed generally catch up with household chores and the unemployed take a dive from the bore and chore that is housekeeping
I recently read a mother's blog about the empty nest syndrome and it sent me on a trip of my own.

Kids are my favourite people. I wanted 4 but stopped at 2. However, I cannot claim to be the perfect mother. I have been far from perfect.  21 years ago Significant - Other and I  were beside ourselves raising 2 boys. Like many grandmas,   their grandma too pitched in.  Today the bond between the grandkids and grandma is cast in iron.

I get all teary eyed and nostalgic as I leaf through the albums - baby pictures, school pictures, vacation pictures, fancy dress. There are so many memories and so many moments jostling for space in my heart and despite a tight squeeze, each memory and moment is gift wrapped and treasured and finds a place and is opened on dull dreary days.    I am reminded of Khalil Gibran beautiful verses on children...
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you...

Yes, they do not belong to me. They are creatures of independent body, soul and mind. I must let go for if I do not, I do not love them. There will be less stuff in the cupboards and drawers.  Our wallets may feel fuller and the laundry basket will look leaner. I will not have to tear my hair over the day's menu and break my head over what to pack in the lunch box and I  must find ways and means to fill that vacuum in my heart and mind until the next message, visit or call. 

Night

When the light of day softly fades away
When that flaming ball of fire is all set to retire
When children hasten home after play
When tweet and chirp fly home yonder
When bright city lights dispel the darkness of the night
When the star spangled skies are a delight to the eyes
When moonbeams cast a silvery sheen. 
When work is done and the day’s race is run
When we whisper a little prayer-
Thank you dear God, for your love and care.
Your blessings we seek everyday, everywhere! 

And Life Goes On.

March 2nd,2017

Yesterday, the first day of a new month began on a spiritual note followed by lean meals all the day long. The significant  - other had rustled up some delicious dahi baath(curd - rice) while I cooked a dish of egg fried rice for the heirs to the throne. The teenager did not appreciate the egg fried rice and said that he felt he was consuming Jain food. I guess the rice turned out a little too bland for his 'spicy loving palate'.
The twenty-year-old, though a member of the youth choir is not very spiritually inclined, or so he says and had to be pushed to hear mass yesterday. I wonder for how long more I can push. Not being spiritually inclined is a malady affecting many young people these days.
My attempt at making aloo parathas for the boys' breakfast was nothing to write home about. The aloo mash turned out to be a soggy mess,  then there was no dhania - hubby dear had used the garnish(corriander leaves) to garnish something else.  This I was blissfully ignorant of and I sensed a sliver of irritation go up my spine. These little inconveniences are just something a homemaker has to learns to live with. There will always be that missing ingredient which you have to dash down tote shop in the corner.  Anyway, there I was at 9.30pm last night, gingerly rolling out the parathas, desperately trying to prevent the aloo mix from spilling out. Yes, why did I undertake this cumbersome task  the night before? I am not an early riser and cooking in the early hours is just not my cup of tea! I managed a few but this morning the verdict from the twenty year was far from good - All my trouble in vain.I am waiting for verdict no.2.
The rest of the day will see me tackling mundane chores and life goes on. .

Shrove Tuesday.

Feb 28th, 2017 , 6.38pm.

The last day of February dawned with clear blue skies and a nice bright sun.  It also happened to be Shrove or pancake Tuesday. Shrove is derived from the word Shrive meaning 'absolution of sin. It is also called Fat Tuesday because we use up the fatty foods before the season of lent. The actual tradition of mixing up the ingredients for pancakes  is said to be a pagan ritual. Some beg to differ and say that it is a Christian tradition with each ingredient representing the 4 aspects of Christian faith. 

 As the light dims the birds can be heard chirping on  their way home.A peace must gradually descend on the land but the bright city lights will shine late into the night.

A Big Fat Sunday

FEB 26th, 2017.

At 7 am my eyes open to a brand new day - Sunday- the day of the Lord and Fat Sunday  - A day to bring out the bacon and beer - the last Sunday before the beginning of Lent.The significant-other usually exhibits his culniary skills on Sunday.  So we sat down to a lunch of Mangalorean pork curry and sannas and chunks of rich dark chocolate for dessert.  Needless to say, delightful fare. The weather outside is not so delightful.  There is more than a hint of summer in the air.Oranges are yet aplenty. Mangoes are on the way. The watermelon abounds.   The twenty-year-old enjoyed a long leisurely sleep, wrapped up in his dreams, deigning to rise only when we informed him that the maid was swishing her broom through the house. The 18-year-old was desperately searching for a lost text book. He did locate the book eventually but refused to divulge where he had found the lost book.. Welcome to the world of teens!
The evening saw husband and wife partaking of some spiritual nourishment followed by some "spiritual" nourishment and dinner before we retired for the night  readying ourselves to take on yet another Monday and a new week.