Parks, Yes You Heard Me Right. I Said Parks.

Being aware that it had been a long long time since I blogged, I would like to put down a thought that hit me few days back, which still comes up every now and then.

It was a very unexpected event when the flights had got suspended indefinitely owing to the second wave in India. Somehow this happened at the same time when I had taken up my annual home trip. I preferred to go before the rainy season there and not during the winter here. Hence, the summer was the perfect time.

Curfews, followed by lockdowns, followed by triple lockdowns had not been easy, not to mention all the fear and scare that stayed in the air. Staying at home was no way fun even at the beginnings. Barely managing to push everyday to the next, feeling guilty about being extremely unproductive even on vacations, trying to brood over the decision to come as well as to speculate when everything opens up, my morale was hit hardcore when a cyclone storm passed by the state. Heavy rains and thunderstorms meant trees would fall on electric posts with no clue when the electricity would be restored. Even my 2-and-a-half-year-old learned to say power cut. Rains and no light had been depressing.

Gambling on various travel options to reach by residence country, we were able to travel to Serbia which turned out to be an unexpected vacation to a European country. Disclaimer, I am only entering the subject of my blog. If you question me the reason for the above introduction, I felt it was apt to start with it in order to pen down the below.
When I was flying to Serbia, a million thoughts over crowded me, to start with the safety of the country, climate, food habits so on and so forth. Surprisingly, right from arrival at Immigration it turned out to be the friendliest country I have ever been to. Language was never a problem as I expected (I must give a fair share of credit to the google translate, of course). My toddler kept on finding new friends every day. People were warm, friendly with humility and the country turned out to be a good host. Evenings we went on a walk to the park below where there were so many kids playing and my little one had no trouble conversing in her gibberish which other kids understood and responded.

Parks. I have finally come to the topic of the day. There were different parks a few of which we visited. Park Is a large public garden or area of land used for recreation (Google Meaning). They had public gardens as well as children’s park with their play items which had the compulsory swings and slides. All the parks we visited had been so well kept. Not everyone had the amble gardens, it had what it needed in the right amount. It is a regular country with a history of its own and I am not talking about a must visit place of the country but the regular parks. And, the way they kept their parks for the residents as well as the occasional visitors like us, I felt l must give enough credit for this. This is what kept me thinking, my home country, the state to which I belong to, we do not have any such recreational areas. We have the amenities to do a facility but we do not have one.

Why do we not have one?

I do not wish to start a debate here nor do I want any of my readers to throw away the political and economic reasons why we don’t have any parks. All I am saying is, seeing such a simple country keeping up with small, doable parks, I wish, I really wish we had such simple, happy places called Parks in my little hometown.

And, this is my Emirati friend.

She is a little piece of cup cake
And an actual friend in real sense.
She is the company HR
And we run to her for advice.
She becomes a super woman
Who has solutions for every single thing.
She follows snap chat & keep me updated.

She is a little piece of cup cake
And an actual friend in real sense.
When social media gets powerful
& a few of us become old school.
That’s when she talks intense stuff
Our lunch times gets interesting
And all of us end up agreeing.

She is a little piece of cup cake
And an actual friend in real sense.
One such day, she asked me, why I don’t eat meat
& I replied the usual – that I am a vegetarian.
She continued, is it ‘cz Cow is your god?
I replied – yes, that is ‘cz Cow is my god.

She is a little piece of cup cake
And an actual friend in real sense.
I showed her a picture of goddess laxmi
I showed her a picture of Krishna & cows
She asked me- how many gods do you have!
I replied-they are all one, just different forms.

She is a little piece of cup cake
And an actual friend in real sense.
Now she wants to know
Why can’t I eat meat but can consume the dairy!
I replied-Cz you can have what god gives
But cannot eat the god himself.
Yes, now she understood.
She is a little piece of cup cake
And an actual friend in real sense.

What stopped me from watching Horror Stories anymore!

I had always loved horror movies.

Back in high school, me and my friend (who also loved horror movies) used to take turns to watch movies on a Thursday and a Friday, as HBO and Star movies each took turns to play one horror movie on this day and we would share the story in the class.

My fascination to horror movies, only grew up with time. I can watch any amount of horror, any time of the day without a scare. Days passed into months and years, until the day I got married and my husband is someone who hates horror movies and enjoys silly comedies which quite frankly, I find super silly and a waste of time. It did affect our mutual selection of movies and we always had to compromise on something reasonable to both of us.

When I was pregnant, I was advised not to watch horror movies by my well-wishers and I adhered to it in my last trimester, as I thought that would be sufficient. I still cherish the last 2 horror movies which I watched in my relative’s place, thankfully, my husband’s brother liked watching horror as much as I do. That day I watched – The Shrine (2010) movie and another one – I am guessing it was Korean but the scare factor was a league apart and I enjoyed it to the fullest.

The biggest irony happened later. 1 year after my baby was born, I started not enjoying the horror, to a point where I could be scared if I watch it alone (I guess, i can still watch it if i mute the TV, but i will not mark this as acceptable). The realization was when we went to a trip to umm al Quwain where we hired a villa of 4 bed rooms (we were with a group of 3 other families). I was in a big dining room with my child sitting on top of the dining table. When she threw down a spoon and I bend down to pick it up, I practically imagined a creature sitting below the table. Even though I laughed aloud to my imagination, it triggered the thinking in me for all the ghosts & creatures & scary stuffs I have seen so far. After that, everything in that villa looked odd to me. I could hear dripping sounds, door creeks, windows rattling and what not!

I have heard post pregnancy personality changes can be there in some ways, say, you continue to dislike certain perfumes or stop or crave more for savoury or sweets but hilarious, in my case I stopped watching horror movies. And, you know who might be the happiest. We settle for happy movies and Christmas movies all the time now. I am sure as my kid grows up, anime & cartoons are going to be added to the list.

Where is all my coolness gone!!!

“Now you are a mom

Still, you are the coolest of all the mom’s I know…”

 

When my niece told me this

I was both excited and confused.

The journey I have had to where I stood

Had made me both good and bad,

Or so do I feel.

I feel all judgmental

I am strong, yet tired

I am brave, yet scared.

 

I cannot sense the coolness

Most of the days, it’s just boredom

Lack of persuasion

Lack of liberation

May be it’s a mom thing

Or so do I prefer to believe

The optimism is not gone, good lord

I wait for the day to feel the coolness again!!!

 

 

 

Chasing my own tail

With all the meticulous planning,
With all the wisdom thoughts raining,
Attending to each minute detail,
Still, why do I find me chasing my own tail?

I could write down a wish list all day,
to include someone pulling me on a sleigh,
Happy times with a perfect style,
Still, why do I find me chasing my own tail?

Scribble all you want, I have no magic pen,
I wish I had a routine, just to enliven,
Nevertheless, I push myself on a high scale,
Still, why do I find me chasing my own tail?

Friends I had, long lost and forgotten,
Free times hence, all moody and rotten,
Scared to find new faces, time become a snail,
Now I know why, I find me chasing my own tail.

The gift of reading.

I liked to read a lot. From a very young age books became my friends. Readers Digest was a popular magazine at home and all of us read them, including me. I remember, when I was in 8^th std (13 years), this neighbor lady asked me why at all do I read this book. Until then, I had not thought of that. Why do I read? I liked reading and I enjoyed reading much more than watching tv or chatting to the neighbor. She even eluded me against this very idea of reading saying we do not gain anything. Thankfully I was not impressed with her arguments which developed the dislike for each other but in my defense, I was young.

Years later, today, when I flip through a journal called “The Escapist”, it took me back to those good old times when I peacefully sat in a corner and read all day long. I wish I could tell this lady what it actually meant to have read all those book back then. When the busy nature of work keeps me occupied, I feel immensely grateful to have got the opportunity at the young age to have read all that I wanted to, to have truly enjoyed all the reading and the essence of all those books. It is one gift which life gave me and I cherish forever.

 

These little things.

Day 1 – Little girl

Suddenly a girl’s loud cry echoed my entire work place. The shrill voice became scarier and sharp. The worried us ran towards the noise and we found out a little girl, from the ongoing Summer Camp, had locked herself in the bathroom and did not know how to undo the lock. We asked her to be calm and instructed her how to open it. Slowly she became calm and worked on the lock and succeeded in opening it. When she came out the cute little girl had a red face, tears running down in gallons. I could imagine how scary it must have been for her and appreciate how loudly she cried so that we could rescue her. We asked her why she had to come to the bathroom all by herself and she replied she is a grown up and do not like a nanny following her everywhere. Made Sense, I guess.

 

Day 2 – Silence

I was trying to swim away from a pile of papers when a girl came in. Small, cute, neatly dressed, hair in a tight braid, smart; I told her “goodmorning sweety, whats your name”

She stared at me.

I repeat – Name???

She still stared.

Ah, maybe she aint comfortable in English. Thanks to my friend, I knew, Name is Esmik in Arabic.

I tried again – Shu Esmik???

Still blank.

Well, that was the scariest moment of the day when I did not know what to do.

Why was she staring at me???

If you play a “who is more scared game”, who would win – Me or Her???

Slowly I tried – Its ok darling, you can go.

Walla, she understood and left.

So why was she not replying? Was she shy/ Scared/ unwilling to be confronted to by a stranger like me?? I never knew.

 

Day 3 – Fashion

It was my first time giving tour to a lady who happened to be a French visual artist. Though my Parisian experience was no great, this lady seemed nice. I shared my limited insight on art materials and tools and she seemed happy with my company. Towards the end, I came to see another artist who was wearing too much of a fashion outfit – a clothing covering the top portion of his body full of holes. Concealing my disappointment on his outfit, I looked away thinking – “Is that really some fashion or have I grown my roots into a previous generation”? The thinking stayed in my head forever.

To rediscover this energy.

Irony is it???

I have come across many ironical things in my life, some have a deep routed connection, I wonder, did someone know about it so well for it to happen this way. Yes, I watch my life too close to recognize every minute change happening in it.

I am not going to mention the first ironical thing that happened in my life, as it is far too personal. Lemme pour my thoughts over the second one.

There had been situations where I had stood in the tip of a tall mountain, starring at distance, my feet almost leaving the edge. But I did not fall. The whole scene interchanged as if it was a stage from a play/ movie. From this scare, I learned to be grateful. Grateful for every single thing that happened. Impulsive acts done by people did not bother me. This screen that replaced the scary mountain top became more colorful day by day. I was in a place which I would call Home away from home. I had felt the walls speak, even in the strangest moments of anonymity and sobriety I felt a sense of familiarity around. It was a surprise to discover this Home away from Home which I live now, was built when I was born. The years I was growing up, I had always wondered what awaits me next and when I reach there, it is as if I already knew I would be here one day, & this is ‘that’ day. Strangely true. I am grateful for that unknown energy that bought me here, today, to rediscover the connection and to feel grateful about it. Is it not intriguing to think, the day you were born and you were growing up, miles and miles away something else was happening, the fruit of which you get to know years later. Does it not surprise you to realize, when you were fighting and getting distressed for something meaningless, something else was happening somewhere parallel and you get to be a part of it and relive the same moments in a different way. May be some of you can relate to what I sound here and may be some of you already frown upon me for I make no sense whatsoever.

To wind up, I feel grateful to this energy which bought me to where I stand today and to shower upon the immense opportunities which I get.

The caution wall

I read somewhere that some people pass through your life for a reason. Let them leave, the purpose is served. I beg to differ as I see no purpose except that it left a huge pile of garbage called hatred which had not been rinsed off even with years of invested time. No good happened while they existed inclusive of waste of men, money, machinery and material in business terms and misleading moments in actual terms. I would like to hunt for an answer on why at all this has to happen. Whether or not I received an answer yet, I learned “Caution”. Caution is a virtual circular wall around within a 10 to 50-meter radius having large number of filters to finally allow any one near the acknowledgment zone. I am glad, one good outcome of the garbage was creation of this wall which made world a better place to live.

Heart

It had been a long time since I let my heart wander. If you are familiar with the awkward yeti, you will get what I mean. In the quest of ticking my list, I failed to realize that my heart had been kept a captive. I had to clock my odds and conquer the unfinished. Time, that is what I lack. The heart had to wait. Not my mistake, Heart had not made sense and I did not have time for child’s play.

I needed a break, but, had calculated breaks. The space around me had closed upon. Every inch was marked and pre-decided. Life was wonderful. Routines were perfect. Days passed.

It was time to take those much awaited long drives. I knew it was not the cool breeze that awaited but it was the pride and power of steering the wheels on those long expansive roads, fear had no room, it was to experience the accomplished.

Destinations set, I had taken help of google map, the woman instructed me to get there. Her voice helped but not always. How much ever I tried to follow her blindly, I got lost. I was attentive but failed to perceive. Exits after exits, wrong ways, confusing roads, dead ends, heart came to help, without prejudice, I followed my instincts. It took me a handful of rides to see how much I had lost my heart in the rat race. The rides made sense when i re-discovered my heart.