Sunday, December 20, 2015

Welcome 2016


Jingle bells, jingle bells, all the way they – jingle, jingle, jingle
As the grand pa clock chimes - ding dong, ding dong, ding dong

The countdown begins - tick tock, tick tock, tick tock

As we bid good bye to 2015 to wake up to another new year 2016
With renewed faith, dreams and desires
As our emotion unleashes the tempest within
To the farthest horizon that cannot be fathomed

It is time to gift wrap 2015 with all the memories – good, bad and ugly
Because it doesn’t matter anymore

It is not too long for the New Year to unwrap and give us all a chance
To express - love, warmth and tenderness
Reunite - with the ones we have lost ties with
Build more memories – good, better, best

Let us feel happy and cherish the kindness of time, giving us another chance
To wake up to a whole new year 2016

Let us spread cheer and warmth and steer our lives
To embark on this new journey of a whole new year 2016

Jingle bells, jingle bells, all the way they – jingle, jingle, jingle
As the grand pa clock chimes - ding dong, ding dong, ding dong
The countdown begins - tick tock, tick tock, tick tock

Saturday, December 19, 2015

Merry Christmas and a HNY


Merry Christmas to all my readers and may the bells jingle all the way into a prosperous and happy 2016...

Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Love your wrinkles {Revathi Raj Iyer}

Her wrinkles as supple and soft as shea butter, her tiny mouth as it stifled a yawn - I looked fondly at my new born as she lay in my arms, eyes closed as if never wanting to wake from slumber-land, both hands curled into a tight fist that had to be cajoled to be released only to curl back tight against my little finger, as if never wanting to let go of me. As I drew her closer to my chest I felt like a life giver. That moment also gave birth to a new emotion within me, the proverbial “maternal instinct” bundled with abundant joy and an overwhelming sense of protection laced with a huge sense of responsibility.

I sent a silent prayer to the Universe as I watched my baby girl and saved that glorious moment in my memory box never to forget!

*****
I remember lying down on my grandma’s lap as she gently stroked my hair and I kept reading a book. A love that made me take her for granted and assume that she would last forever. I was in my teens and pretty much took all nice things in life for granted.

“Grandma, your hands are so wrinkled and rough,” I observed.
“Yes they are; years of hard work and age has added up,” she answered with a smile that made her lips curve upside down to me as my head was on her lap.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“All of eighty four,” she replied.
“How ancient is that!" To me anybody beyond twenty was old. Well, that’s how we all felt when we were in our teens, right?
“Just seventy years older than you. I was your age when I married your grandfather, you see!”
“Whaaaaaat?” I asked in disbelief.
I couldn’t picture myself to be in my grandma’s position at all.
She pointed towards the wall at the black and white picture of my grandma’s wedding photo.
“You certainly look older than fourteen, maybe you were twenty,” I declared because that seemed to be a marriageable age to me.
“I cannot see much of your hands as they are hidden under that sari of yours.”
Grandma laughed.
I didn’t say anything and kept examining her hands.
“One day your hands will also look wrinkled,” she said.
“Oh Grandma, I love your wrinkles,” I said fondly and kissed her hands.
She gave me a tight hug and started stroking my hair as I resumed reading.

*****
“Ma, are you using the creams and lotions that I bought from Paris?” I asked my mom over the phone.
“Oh dear, yes and no," my mother answered with a sigh.
“Why don’t you set a reminder on your cell phone,” I nudged.
“No matter what, one cannot avoid those wrinkles; so it is better we learn to love them,” she said.

*****
One night, I examined my face intently much to the amusement of my husband.
“Oh my dear sweet God, can you see that?” I asked.
“See what?”
“The fine lines on my face? Look at my hands and my neck; there is no mistaking the fact that it has started looking tired. I dreaded to use the word wrinkles.
Few years from now my daughter would be holding her little infant and feel exactly the same way as I did when I first held her in my arms, my bundle of joy, the wrinkles on her face, hands and body, yet as supple and soft as shea butter…..
I looked at the photo of my baby girl, my mom, I and my grandmother.

Wrinkles create memories and that is all that matters.

 

 

I was startled to see two strange men seated on the tattered sofa of my tiny home. I quickly hid behind the curtain but it was too late....