Meet Marietta: The woman behind the words.

 Meet Marietta

 

I’m Marietta Pereira, 61, a homemaker, a trained primary school teacher, and mother of two boys, currently living in Mumbai with my better half and navigating the empty-nest phase and silver years of our lives.  

Advancing age comes with its challenges, but you're also more at peace with yourself in many respects. 

I love being around kids, and my brief six-year spell of teaching first and third graders was some of the most rewarding years. Raising kids, as I learned later, is quite another cup of tea.

I am what I am… You get what you see. I’ve come a long way from a shy and awkward little girl that I was to a moderately talkative woman participating in activities that keep me in the public eye to a small extent.

I’m no paragon of virtue, but those who know me would say I am the proverbial ‘good girl.’ I’ve come into my own late in life, but then, as they say, “better late than never." I can't handle "fake" and "attitude."

I don’t make friends easily. I've also come to realize that after a certain age, it is difficult, if not impossible, to make friends. I've not been lucky as far as friendships go. Parties are really not my thing. A couple of friendships have stood the test of time and distance, and in the last couple of years, I have found myself drifting away from friends as we found ourselves in different places in all senses of the word 'place.'

I hate to be with people who make me feel uncomfortable, but then on occasions, I have no choice. Setting boundaries is something I’ve learned to do, and when you are okay with not pleasing everyone or not being everybody’s favourite gal, you are at peace.

On a more cheerful note, my plants give me immense joy, and so do books. I love writing and have, to my credit,
published a book of poems. Never mind that it did not set the world on fire; the joy was in writing the poems and publishing them.

I’m married into a musical family, so music is my constant companion. I enjoy listening to music, turn the volume up when I’m in the kitchen, and might even shake a leg when nobody’s watching.

I’m a die –hard romantic, love happy endings and sad movies make me cry. Comedy, I love.  I'm also a foodie with a hopeless sweet tooth. 

Marriage is sharing your life with another but retaining your identity. Well, 31 years into the institution, the sparring continues, but we are growing old together, and that’s not such a bad thing.

Motherhood is a rollercoaster ride. I’ve made mistakes and am often reminded of them by my offspring. I’m sure I will make a few more, but then again, life is all about learning from your mistakes and trying not to repeat them. However, I don’t consider all of them mistakes. My sons will, of course, disagree.

I love travelling, but I have quite a few sights and sounds still on my bucket list.

I’ve survived some major health challenges and feel blessed and grateful that by and large, I’ve been able to sustain my good health.

Life doesn’t play fair—you win some, you lose some, you accept some. You ask questions, but life doesn’t always give you the answers. It’s best to live life one day at a time and deal with it as gracefully as you can. 

I've participated in the weekly Blogchatter Bloghop challenge.  

Collage: Inshot

Villain : When I'm My Own Enemy

 

 

It’s the villain in me

That sets me back,

That forces me to give up

Or give in.

 

I see the darkness,

Not the light.

I see hopelessness

Not the flickering flame

That may be in sight.

 

She steals my courage,

Leaves me trembling with fear.

How I wish

I could put up a fight,

But I choose to let the villain stay.

 

This villain

She’s controlling,

Not accepting,

Resisting inevitable change.

She introduced me to overthinking

And negativity too.

I can’t live my life

Allowing this villain to rule;

I’ve got to let her go.

 

She still visits,

But I’m trying:

Choosing to be the person

I want to be.

Writing my own shining story.

 

I'm participating in the weekly Blogchatter Bloghop challenge. 

The Jar of Memories I Will Not VIsit

 

The Jar of memories I will not visit

 

Like the stars in a galaxy

My happy memories shine brightly.

 

The moments of despair and darkness

I’ve imprisoned in a jar, sealed tightly.

 

I never want to remember.

My encounters with Science or numbers.

 

Or the days I lost Ma and Pa

And my dear friend Vibha.

 

The darkness of the day

When a certain diagnosis was made.

 

I hated the call.

That warned me of a financial squall.

 

Broken friendships

Trust turned to rust.

I hate them all.

 

As heavy as elephants

As dark as the night

These are memories.

I shall keep

Out of my light. 

Happy Birthday Mr. Ruskin Bond.

 

 

Hello, Mr. Bond,

Happy birthday and still happy writing.

Congratulations on your new publications for early learners—ABC and 123, and Laugh With Me. 

It’s no mean feat that you, sir, continue to regale us with tales that are so endearing in their simplicity and relatability.

My first read was the Book of Humour, which left me in good spirits and grinning at the antics of Uncle Ken, your lovable grandparents, and others. After that, I acquired quite a collection of your books. …

Sir, you use no bombastic words, nor do you script elaborate dramas, yet we remain hooked from the very first line.

You write a haiku, a limerick, and a spooky tale with equal ease! How wonderful is that? I remember asking for your books at a local book fair and being told they were all sold out.

You bring us the magic of the mountains, trees, rivers, animals, and even a tiny moth or snail in words that linger long after we’ve finished reading.

You’ve written a verse about the cockroach and written an ode to young Binya Devi. Sir, your tales and verses are like bowls of warm broth on difficult days—comforting, soothing, and coming home. 

Your words have taught me to discover the little joys in life—the laughter and innocence of children, the beauty of nature, and the magic in mundane moments.

Besides, you weave value, a nugget of inspiration, and subtle humour into your work, which makes it all the more a pleasure to read.

How to Be a Writer and Read Well, Write Well teaches me the nuances of fine writing.

When you said:

“The one dream that I hold on to is the dream itself because I’m still dreaming. From 9 to 90, I’ve held onto dreams. There are one or two that are to be fulfilled and made real. So don’t stop dreaming, no matter how old you are and how much you have achieved, because you can always do things better. You can write a better book, find a piece of music, a better song, or a better painting. You could always be better, so hold on to your dreams.”

I've quoted you in another blog post, and I share the same words in this one because they are such an inspiration to me, especially now that I'm in my salt-and-pepper years. 

You told me that nothing was impossible, nothing was out of reach, if we went after it. You'll be 92 soon, and you're still dreaming, still writing. 

Thank you for treating us to writing that is gentle and easy to understand.  

May you enjoy good health and happiness and continue to write to your heart’s content.

 

Cheers!

Marietta.

 

 I've participated in the weekly BlogchatterBloghop challenge. 

World Water Day 2026

World Water Day 2026

 

In early January 2026, a severe water contamination crisis hit the Bhagithrathpura area in Indore, resulting in at least 15 deaths and approximately 270 hospitalizations due to vomiting and diarrhoea.

A damaged pipeline causing sewage to mix with drinking water is said to have caused the tragedy. Incidentally, Indore is said to be one of the cleanest cities in India. This tragic incident only underscores how essential clean, fresh water is to us.

Since 1993, the UN has been observing March 22^nd as World Water Day, focusing on the need for and importance of fresh and clean water for every human on planet Earth.

Every year, the UN sets a theme for the day. This year, it is Water and Gender:

“Where water flows, equality grows.”

A global water crisis affects the entire global population, but women and girls bear the brunt of it, especially in India, where they must walk long distances to collect water and then manage the use of water at home, resulting in a loss of time, energy and opportunities. Besides, they are rarely included in decision-making by the water governing bodies.

As we battle climate change, polluted water bodies, financial crunches, and governing restrictions, we need inclusivity to solve the issues.

I’ve been blessed to have running water in my taps, not having to trudge long distances to get water or wake up at unearthly hours to fill drums and vessels.

I may tend to take the water that is so easily accessible to me for granted. Water is a precious gift, and we are called to appreciate and protect it.

Small actions like not leaving a tap open or letting the tap run while brushing your teeth, fixing leaks, practising rainwater harvesting, and teaching the next generation to value and care for water.

In India, organisations such as water.org have stepped forward to ease the situation by helping women secure small loans to fund their water needs. 

As we mark World Water Day 2026, let us remember to care for this precious resource responsibly and use our time and efforts to enable the equitable distribution of water

Zip: Holding It Altogether

Hello there!

I’m your humble zip, holding things together as you get on with your day.

I’m but two rows of perfectly lined-up metal or plastic teeth waiting to meet. I’ve been tested quite a few times before I’m fitted with your clothes, bags, pouches, and other belongings.

I’ve travelled the world stitched to your essentials. A jacket zipped against the cold, a dress fastened by someone for someone, and a suitcase packed and zipped (secured) before a journey. I hear you curse when I get stuck or rejoice when I slide smoothly on trousers, a bag, or a dress.

I’ve been tugged in haste or yanked in frustration, or you’ve almost died of embarrassment when you realise that I’ve been left undone.

After considerable use, I may get worn out. My teeth are misaligned, or my track comes loose. Then you choose to discard and replace me or repair me. Such is life.

So the next time you tug my little head, remember, I’m holding on for you, one tooth at a time, giving you comfort and confidence and preventing your world from being split wide open.

I'm participating in the Blogchatter A2Z challenge 2026

Youth: A bright, beautiful and learning season.

 Youth

 

It’s me, 'youth,' visiting you. I see that you’re not doing too badly even after I’ve left. Good for you.

My earliest memories are of living with the cherub that you were. I was your first cry, your first steps, your babble, and scraped knees. I lived in your curiosity and your chatter.

Then I grow into an adolescent. I’m rebellious and difficult to control. Emotions rage within me—pride, anger, delight, and embarrassment. I’m always searching for an identity of my own. It’s me, youth at my difficult best during the adolescent years.

I’m also fast, bright, and energetic. It's when I live in you that you may make mistakes and be given some life lessons. On the whole, I’m meant to be lived and enjoyed.

All too soon, I slip through your fingers. One day I’m there, and the next I’m gone. I’m just cherished memories, nostalgia, or stories you tell.

You may desperately try to cling to me, but I say, “Age gracefully." There’s a beauty and charm to ageing, too. Don’t use too many of the potions, creams, and dyes.

Remember, I don’t disappear from your lives completely. You can keep my spirit alive. Laugh loudly, be silly, dream wildly, and do stuff to stay alive in all ways that matter. 

I'm yours to revisit when life feels too overwhelming.

I'm participating in the Blogchatter A2Z Challenge

2026. 

X-ray: Revealing the Unseen Truth

 

 

Hello!

We’ve met on a few occasions. Hope you are well.

I’m your X-ray machine, stationed in hospitals and diagnostic centers. I’m a silent observer, seeing and revealing to human eyes what human eyes are unable to see and reveal.

I’m a web of wires, connections, plates, and invisible light. I may appear cold, clinical, and metallic to you, but I bring clarity and healing.

Every day, I watch people walk in. Some are in pain, others anxious yet hopeful, some utterly nervous, and a few are trying to be brave. If I could, I would tell them that knowing is always better than not knowing. I’m just a machine. I cannot speak.

As they stand before me, I do what I was made to do. I capture the irregularities; sometimes there are none. I capture that, too, and reveal it all to the doctors. I ask you to be still to get an accurate picture.

Bones, lungs, joints.I see them all.  Nothing misses me. I don’t judge or comment. I simply state the facts.

I’ve been helping people ever since I was stationed in hospitals and diagnostic centres. I bring relief, "Nothing to worry about," or I reveal the issue, and then the treatment commences.

So the next time that you stand before me, don’t be frightened. I may be just a tool, but I stand by you in times of distress and discomfort, helping you heal.  

I'm participating in the Blogchatter A2Z challenge 2026

Water: Quenching your thirst and more.

 

 

 

It’s summer, so you must be getting thirsty quite often. I’m here to hydrate you and have a little tête-à-tête with you.

I’m water. I have existed for a very long time and have no beginning. I’m not sure about my end, either.

I’m the silvery odourless liquid that flows through your taps and with which you cannot do without. You require me to cook, wash, clean, bathe, and quench your thirst. I’m food for your plants and crops. I’m also your tears and sweat.  

I have no shape and carry the shape of whatever holds me—the clouds, lakes, rivers, pots, and pans.

As for sounds, I burble as a stream. You can hear me trickle from a tap, babble in a brook, bubble in a pot, roar as the ocean, and rumble as a waterfall.

I can be gentle and calming or angry and destructive. I’m a giver and taker, creator and destroyer. I change from liquid to vapour to ice, a cycle that connects the sky, earth, and sea.

You panic when you don’t see me flow from your taps; I see women trudging miles to fetch and store me or waking at unearthly hours to fill me in buckets and drums.

It’s also so unfortunate that some of you humans don’t care a tuppence about me. You pollute lakes and rivers and other water bodies, thereby harming the life they sustain. You waste water and take me for granted. Yet you celebrate when I drum on the ground as rain.

Do conserve me and value me not only when I’m scarce but also when I’m in abundance.

I’m so touched that March 22^nd is observed as World Water Day. I feel respected. Shapeless and odorless, I may seem ordinary, but no life can survive without me.

This post is part of the Blogchatter A2Z challenge 2026.

Values: Living the Right Way

 

 

Life happens. As we navigate the storms and sunshine, we are often faced with choices between right and wrong. What principles and values do we choose to live our lives by?

Here, values talk a little about themselves. 

Hello!

It’s us, your values, calling on you!

A child is born, and she is raised. As she grows, we enter her life through the gentle yet firm voices she hears, the hands she holds, and the stories she is told. Stories about courage, honesty, resilience, and integrity. She is encouraged to live by us and to practise us.

But we are not truly real until life tests us. To tell that comfortable lie or be plain honest, to cheat on the test and pass, or to simply bear the consequences of not studying enough. It is in these moments that we come alive…because in the end, it is not what you believe but what you practice that matters.   

The little girl changes as she grows. Does she discard us or keep us close? Her actions and words will tell.

Sometimes we fade when convenience is easier, and we shine when you take the straight and narrow path. Every choice you make strengthens or weakens us.

Even when you choose not to abide by us, we linger in the background, hoping for your return.

So take a moment to introspect. Are we simply words that you preach to others or are we alive in your actions? 

This post is part of the Blogchatter A2Zchallenge2026

Umbrella: Under my canopy

 

Hello!

It’s me, your umbrella, popping in for a chat. We never see each other until the monsoon arrives or you can't bear the sun in May. 

I was born in a factory, stitched together with fabric, and stretched over eight slender ribs of steel. I was created to protect you against the blazing sun and the rain. I'm your constant companion in the monsoon. 

I have siblings in varying sizes and colours, and we are all foldable. We are also known as a parasol, or fondly as 'brolly.'

You station me behind a door, hang me on a peg or tuck me away in your bag, and I wait to be of service to you.

When you unfurl me, I open up into a canopy of safety, protecting you from drizzles, downpours, or the blazing sun.

I dislike the wind because that naughty chap plays games with me. He turns me inside out, and I feel sorry to see you struggling to make me right. I feel humiliated, and there is nothing more pathetic than an umbrella turned inside out.

I feel so touched when strangers huddle beneath me. I carry stories of love and romance and walks in the rain. Oh yes! I'm important to you.

You humans are a forgetful lot. You are forever leaving me behind- in trains, buses, taxis, schools, restaurants and just wherever you go. I resent that. Sometimes you’re unlucky. You borrow me from each other, promising to return me, but then, as I said, you’re “a forgetful lot.”

Did you know that Ruskin Bond has written a story about me? The Blue Umbrella. How wonderful is that!

 

This post is part of the Blogchatter A2Z challenge2026

Trust: The cornerstone of a relationship

 

Trust builds the bridge that carries every relationship.

 

I’m trust that invisible thread that you humans weave among yourselves when you believe in each other’s goodness and don’t expect betrayal.

I’m built slowly. One action, promise, or secret at a time. Then, when you reach the required comfort level, I’m present between you. I’m all about connectivity, reliability, honesty, and protection.

Once present, I must be nurtured because I’m fragile. A wrong word or action or lie wounds me deeply and may eventually kill me.

There are times when you place me with the wrong people, and then you are disappointed or wronged.  

I’m built into friendships, families, workplaces, love, and even in yourselves. If you keep me strong, I can take you through the harshest of storms. I’m the hand that you reach out for.

Once I’m lost, finding and rebuilding me is difficult. Yet I observe you give it another shot. I’ve watched you rebuild me slowly and steadily. 

I’m the cornerstone of any relationship, be it between humans or even an animal and a human. Guard me fiercely once you have built me, and I will stand by you. 

This post is part of the Blogchatter A2Z challenge2026

Sammy Smartphone: Buzzing away

 

Hello, User!

Your smartphone’s here.

Buzzing you into a new day,

Hoping it goes your way.

 

I keep you connected.

Help you stay abreast of news and views,

Weather forecasts and gossip, too.

 

You set reminders.

Plan a meet-up,

Book a table

At a diner.

I’m your encyclopedia, map and diary,

And your ever-growing picture gallery.

 

You download a dozen apps,

Fill your carts,

Read a book,

Hum a tune,

Or scroll your worries away.

 

Losing me

Is like losing your soul.

But beware!

I can be an addiction

And a distraction.

 

So hold me close.

But let me go

When your mind needs rest.

I’m here to help.

Not be a pest.

 

This post is part of the Blogchatter A2Z challenge2026

Rumour: Nowhere near the truth

 

I’m rumour. Don’t confuse me with gossip. Gossip is generally an unkind conversation about a person in their absence, while I’m an unofficial story that could be true or invented. I come from no specific place or person. I’m nobody’s child.

Once I’m in circulation, I travel quickly, often leaving the truth far behind. Truth is evidence, context, hurtful at times, and boring. I generally come from hearsay, an incomplete or misunderstood conversation, a half-heard sentence, no clarification, or an overactive imagination.

As I gather momentum. I grow spicier and longer. However, I cannot be vouched for. You humans just love passing me on. You give me legs and wings and wheels, and I speed along through offices, canteens, street corners, boardrooms, and classrooms.

My endings are quiet. I die a natural death when something more interesting comes along, or, to everyone's shock and embarrassment, I’m disproved.

I would advise you to refrain from passing me on, as I might bruise you or break trust. So simply nip me in the bud and focus your energy on creative pursuits. 

I'm rumour:

transient and powerful if you want me to be. 

This post is part of the BlogchatterA2Z 2026 challenge. 

Quill :writing my story

 Quill: writing my story

 

I’m an ancient writing instrument of great magnificence. I’m a quill. I was born in the 6^th century in China and existed until the 19^th century, whispering words to parchment.

I was usually crafted from goose, swan, or turkey feathers. Goose feathers were common, swan feathers were considered superior, and crow feathers were used for fine lines. I either had a blunt end or a pointy one. Thomas Jefferson kept a flock of twenty geese so that he never ran out of feathers.

The feathers, preferably from the left wing, were cured by heat and dried to harden them. The tip was cut and shaped to form a point.

It was all exciting in the beginning, being dipped into an inkwell and dancing across paper. I felt important to be used to sign decrees and poets to express their love and longings and scholars to record their learnings. I was also privy to secret thoughts in diaries.

It’s quite a feather in my cap that I was used to sign the Magna Carter, the Dead Sea Scrolls, and the Declaration of Independence.

Life was not easy. When my tip wore down with use, I was reshaped with a knife and ouch! That hurt. Unlike your modern keyboards and pens, you had to be patient when using me, holding me gently and work me gently, because I was very pressure sensitive. I brought dignity and authority to the art of writing.

Time brought change and convenience. I was replaced by the fountain pen in 1827 with its inbuilt inkwell, and yes, it works faster, but not quite up to my page. Just so you know, I’m still proudly used by calligraphers, keeping alive the art of beautiful writing.   

I abhor the ballpoint pen. So cheap and graceless, with no personality at all. Ha-Ha! I guess I’m still entitled to opinions at least.

I’m now more than vintage. I’m nobility. I sit in antique shops or in a drawer, bringing on waves of nostalgia and watching parents explain to children my heritage.

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This post is part of the Blogchatter A2Z 2026 challenge.