ASL, PLEASE?

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Her: Hi
Him: Hey There
Her: ASL, please?
Him: How are you doing?
Her: Is that your ASL?
Him: NO, but age is just a number
Her: Well, I am 27, I am from Delhi
Him: WOW, a Delhi girl, today is my lucky day
Her: You a flirt?
Him: No, just an average man, 28/US. But I was a Delhite too once
Her: Oh, were you? I am a dancer
Him: Gawd, Can this day get any better?
Her: Yes, if you are a Guitarist
Him: You never know, I could be
Her: LOL, are you? Seriously ?
Him: Nah, I can’t even hold one correctly, though I tried, sincerely
Her: You know, I know that feeling, I worked hard to learn Piano, but no luck
Him: I have a feeling we can be good friends….
Her: I have that feeling too…..’

This is how it starts every time…

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CONFESSIONS OF A SHOPAHOLIC

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I was going through a rough patch of my life and had nothing better to do. Had exploited all PC games, was bored off being creative, wanted to do nothing, even my favourite pastime, book reading too, seemed a tedious task. Nothing was exhilarating. Nothing appeared to excite me anymore. I was sitting idle when I decided to clean my room. Suddenly I realised, my cupboard was full of books, and all were kept haphazardly. So, I decided I needed to buy a bookshelf.

My aim was to purchase a bookshelf with as little nuisance as possible. I decided to peep into stores right from the sitting room, the solution was none other than online shopping. After a lot of browsing and surfing, I was able to settle for small bookshelf made in Sheesham. It was some Rs 7,500 and looked antique. I was taken by its beauty but scared to…

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THE DAY MY MOTHER WAS BORN

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Mother! The whole world of a child. Its’s first home as she nurtures the baby with her own blood and bones. The child’s first school as she teaches how to walk and how to talk. A Mother is one of the greatest gifts of God. There are many precious things that God has bestowed on us. However, a Mother is one of the unique gifts of God. She is the embodiment of sacrifice and love.

When a child is born, a Mother is born…and from that moment onwards, she sacrifices everything for her child.

But I was on the verge of losing my mum the day I was born. I shiver to think what would have happened if I had lost her that day. She is the most valuable and precious person in the whole world.

I will tell you the incident in her own words

“The nine months were…

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Gift Of Life !

by Sakhi

Nine sets of families sitting in the waiting lounges of nine different hospitals in nine different cities. All have palms joined, fingers crossed and eyes closed, praying hard. Praying hard and hoping for their loved one to wake up, to be healthy again, to be alive and kicking. But amongst those nine families, eight were hoping for the death of the ninth one. Unfortunately, the ninth family lost their loved one. He/she was declared brain dead. The family is devastated and begs the doctor to give them hope, a glimmer of hope that yes, there is a 0.001 percent hope of recovery, but they were disappointed. The ninth person passed away. And the prayer of the other eight was answered. I know it seems like a riddle, but it’s an actual incident.

This is an excerpt, read complete here….

GROOM ON SALE!

Now if you come to hypocrisy, We are the most skilful hypocrites in the world. All of us are experts at practising virtue at a distance. On first encounter every boy’s father invariably remarks – ‘we don’t need anything. Whatever you give is your choice. It will be after all a gift to your daughter. The demand is never openly made. Someone from groom’s family will innocuously ask about items being given to the bride so that they will not purchase the same for the bride’s room in their house. “What will be the point in duplicating the purchase of a Television, fridge, washing machine, play station, double bed, dressing table, safe, decorative items, modular kitchen, car, etc.? It would be better if the monetary value of these items is calculated and cash is given to groom to purchase items of his liking.” It’s like a naming a ceremony, replace the word “Dowry” with ” father’s gift to his daughter”.

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“Rakhungi naino huzoo, Laado ko main dur na dungi
Bangla bhi dungi, aji Motor bhi dungi
Sona to dungi zaroor, Laado lo maain sur na dungi”

My granny used to sing this song when she was overwhelmed with love for me; I would be sitting in her lap, thinking WOW! Someday I will get married, and granny would give me so many things, but not get me married far off. This is the psychology of most Indian parents. They are ready to shower the groom and his family in all the riches but want to see their daughter’s happiness at any cost. But sadly, more often than not, the exact opposite happens. Instead of buying her the love of her husband and in-laws, they buy her misery, torture, pain, exploitation, not just physically but emotionally and mentally.

Usually, when we hear any case of dowry killing, burning of newlywed brides…

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AN ANGEL IN DISGUISE!

 

by Sakhi

One day a person came to fix motor (to fetch water), he observed him keenly and learned his art, next were the men to service AC, he wouldn’t budge from that place and saw everything like he was at some workshop to learn it. Our house was renovated soon, and those were best times for him as he picked up every art from them, plumbing, carpentry, electrical work. And let me confess since then we have never called anyone to repair anything, he became the SRK of My Name Is Khan, “repair almost everything”.

 

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When I decided to write on Gratitude, I took some good time in deciding who will be the sole beneficiary of my Thank You. Then I thought who is the one person that has been giving me all through my life without expecting a thank you; the answer was my domestic help, Narayan.

Now to capture Noorie (I gave him this name out of affection as he often complains that he became almost a women doing womanly chores for my mother and me) in words is like trying to collect all the sea water in a Coca-Cola bottle. He is a panorama of talent. Let me start from the beginning. He came to us when he was merely 10. Yes, it was child labour. He was desperate to find work and let me confess, that some 20 yrs ago people weren’t so aware of the sins of child labour. But…

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SOCIAL OR ANTI-SOCIAL?

by Sakhi

Facebook Death, Twitter Suicide, MySpace Murder, YouTube Killing. Sounds bizarre I know. What have such negative words got to do with social media platforms ? They are made for entertainment, for communication, for connecting, for interaction. They are definitely supposed to enrich our lives making us more social and more popular.

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Facebook Death, Twitter Suicide, MySpace Murder, YouTube Killing. Sounds bizarre I know. What have such negative words got to do with social media platforms ? They are made for entertainment, for communication, for connecting, for interaction. They are definitely supposed to enrich our lives making us more social and more popular.

Unfortunately, this is just a myth, the truth is somewhat different. Can you believe that a crime is reported on FB every 40 minutes? Facebook was referred in investigations of murder, rape, child sex, offenses, assault, kidnap, death threats, witness intimidation, and fraud.

1. A normal teenager of 15 was murdered his dad when the father banned the kid from using MySpace, the reason being the kid was posting suicidal notes. After the murder, he removed his father from his Top 8.
2. A guy was frustrated from his x wife and her attacking Facebook post out of her anger about…

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THE CONSPIRING COUSINS !

Summer vacations, grandparents house (mother’s parents) and a group of same aged cousins playing games on a breezy afternoon on the huge porch alongside a garage that housed all the cars. Two of my brothers were changing the tyres of an old, worn out white, NE 118 (nanaji’s) as it stood on a jack by the side of the porch. They planned to take it for a ride in the evening. Two of my other cousins were playing cards, sitting on the wicker lawn chairs and me and my younger sister (another cousin) were practising Baseball on the open verandah.

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Summer vacations, grandparents house (mother’s parents) and a group of same aged cousins playing games on a breezy afternoon on the huge porch alongside a garage that housed all the cars. Two of my brothers were changing the  tyres of an old, worn out white, NE 118 (nanaji’s) as it stood on a jack by the side of the porch. They planned to take it for a ride in the evening. Two of my other cousins were playing cards, sitting on the wicker lawn chairs and me and my younger sister (another cousin) were practising Baseball on the open verandah. She was pitching while I was holding the bat raised above my head, ready to strike. I was in full swing, aiming for a Home run(like sixer in cricket) when a huge tyre rolled on the ground and bumped into me and I fell face down on the ground. I…

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WATTAGE: SAVE POWER, SAVE ENERGY!

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Night I was sleeping on my couch when the television remote slipped from hand and crashed on the floor, startling me, breaking my blessed sleep and beautiful dream. I woke up rubbing my eyes and yawning wide. I looked at the time, 4:00 AM. What??? But it’s day!!! I was shocked and looked around the room. And then I realized my mistake, it wasn’t a day, I had slept with all the lights switched on, the television on as it blasted my ears. The DVD player running flashing lights in my eyes. My laptop was on, my fully charged phone was still plugged in. The AC and fans all were on (damn, my bones are sore from the cold), to my horror even the fridge door was a bit ajar, the light from the inside of the fridge lighting the kitchen. (I hunted for food before dozing off) Scary sounds…

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FARM TO FORK: AS HUNGRY MOUTHS WATCH

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Yesterday, while coming back from a relative’s house after distribution of Diwali gifts, my car was standing still in the bottleneck traffic jam of Delhi. I was looking here and there to distract myself when I saw a little boy holding the hand of an even smaller girl, begging for food. “We haven’t eaten in two days, please give food. Give anything that’s food”, they repeated this one line constantly making me shiver by their misery. Torn clothes, caked with dirt, empty eyes and hungry faces over a body that was nothing but skeleton wrapped in a thin layer of skin (not flesh). Like all Delhites I tried to give them a pass, and looked the other way, but their innocent faces drew my attention to them (we are bound to ogle at disasters, psychologically proven), and I felt my airway close as I kept some money in their hands…

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