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

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...

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.

 

 

Maggie and the shrink

Aunt Maggie gets a jolt as she realises that she had meandered towards the thicket, the forbidden path, that too in the dead of the night.

“Sleepwalking can be dangerous. I might even kill somebody. How dreadful would that be? I must see Dr Redwood the first thing in the morning and tell him about this. He is well aware of all my problems, the inane telephone callers, the arrest of my nephew and of course my everlasting love for Merlot, which I don’t see as much of a problem except that once I did water the geraniums with it, but that was just once. I have to tell him about this new ailment; if I live through this night and escape becoming the supper for the wolves or bears or other wild boars.”

The thought of wild animals made Aunt Maggie shiver like a pale, wilted leaf. She had read so many stories to little Nancy who listened to all these horror stories with interest, in the cosy comfort of her bedroom.

Dr Redwood was a good friend of Phillip and a very kind hearted person who understood all her maladies, at least he said he did and kept making notes continuously with his head bent. She loved it when Dr Redwood made notes as this made her feel very important and she simply made up wild stories to add that spicy touch to her woes.

Aunt Maggie could never take her eyes off his head as she counted the four strands that still survived on his otherwise bald pate. Phillip was also bald but Dr Redwood was balder than most bald men whom she had come across in her life span of 80 odd years.

Aunt Maggie’s thoughts came to a halt as she heard the rustle of leaves. Was it a wolf or a grizzly bear? This was not one of those bed time stories she read out to little Nancy. This was real and she was in the woods, that too in the dead of night.

Aunt Maggie shivered in her night gown. She was barefooted and it hurt now. Her toes curled and the cramps were unbearable to the point where she could not get up.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…………….”she screamed in pain and then panicked. She could not control her vocal chords as the pain was excruciating. As if understanding the misery her toes miraculously unlocked and she managed to stand up. She looked around for a stick, just in case she had to defend herself.

She had no clue how to get back to the house. There were only 2 ways – one that would take her home and the other that would take her deeper into the woods.

She did exactly what Nancy would do when caught up in such situations – eena meena myna moe……and started to walk towards the direction that ended with moe…

She heard that rustle again. She was terrified. A bear covered in black fur was walking a few yards ahead of her.

"Did this mean that she was walking towards the thicket and not her home? How could eena meena myna moe have failed her when it never failed Nancy?"

Aunt Maggie was confused. She longed for her Merlot.

Just then the grizzly bear stopped and turned. It was looking straight in her direction.

Aunt Maggie froze. If she ran she knew what would happen. She was defenceless but for some strange reason felt brave.

"Roaaaarrrrrr.....she tried to mime the voice of a tiger to scare the bear away. She had read this trick in one of little Nancy’s books.

Alas! the sound emanated from her sounded like a sheep and the bear looked at her intensely.

She decided to talk to the bear, another trick from the book.

“I know who you are, she said as if talking to a child. You are not a wild grizzly bear. You mean no harm to an old lady who is nearing her grave and wishes to live a few more years. She is in no rush to go to Phillip. I bet he is having a good time in heaven with his lady friends."

“Maggie, what are you saying? How do you know that I am not a bear?"

Aunt Maggie was stupefied.

The bear had started talking to her. The trick of the book was indeed working!

She must tell this to Dr Redwood tomorrow. And she could spin a few yarns around this story, too.

Then the bear starts walking towards her.

Aunt Maggie freezes.

“Shhh……You will not reveal this to anybody, okay?

"The bear had a secret to hide?

"Reveal what?" she asks boldly in a loud tone.

“That I sleep walk in the woods at night and pretend to be a grizzly bear, and Mrs Redwood pretends that she is oblivious to this, as I am the only shrink in town. It would be a shame if the word spreads.
I have different set of problems and I compare notes when you talk to me."

Aunt Maggie faints.

Dear readers (Revathi Raj Iyer)

On this joyous occasion of Diwali, I wish to express my appreciation to all readers who have been curious enough to visit my blog and my face book page "Expression of Pearls". Thank You!

Maggie and the thief {Revathi Raj Iyer}

Aunt Maggie was sipping the morning tea left by her bedside. Some kind soul in the family must have thought that a cuppa tea will augur well than a morning Merlot, if not for her health, at least for the sake of the flora and fauna in the garden.

"Ahem, ahem, aarrghhh....."Aunt Maggie cleared her throat as the insipid liquid made its way all the way down to settle in her stomach.

Aunt Maggie slid her hands under the blanket in search of the Merlot which she was sure she went to bed with, the night before. Since the death of Philip she slept with the bottle besides her and sought its comfort in the middle of the night, when the hissing sound of the gusty wind woke her up from slumber.

Aunt Maggie glanced around the room. Everything was where she had left it, a month ago. Her room was an untidy mess and whosoever walked in with that morning cup of tea was either too kind or had lost his mind.

For some reason unknown to her, she enjoyed the tea that morning, although weak and lacked flavour; just the way she always had when Philip was alive. A flash of memory and it felt that Philip was alive and back in her life.

That morning was unusual. The house was silent. The sprinklers did not start at the dot of 9 am and there was no sound of the dishes getting stacked in the kitchen or a yell if she had anything for the laundry. Even good old Ruffle was missing.

Aunt Maggie peered outside the window, the swing was empty and little Nancy was nowhere to be seen. This was the time when she would be out playing in the garden all by herself and singing her heart out.

Aunt Maggie nearly fell off the bed at the shrill sound of the telephone. She could not save the liquid nor the cup. The cup crashed into pieces on the stone tile and the tea stained the carpet, making it even harder to figure out the original colour and design of the ancient carpet which was of  Persian origin but over the years looked like a piece of trash.

"I have to get rid of this carpet," she thought to herself and dropped the saucer.

"What is a cup without a saucer?"

Aunt Maggie slipped her feet awkwardly inside the fluffy shoes half chewed by Ruffle and manages to toddle out of the room. Carefully clutching the railing, as if holding it for dear life, Aunt Maggie walks down the stairs slowly. She could clearly tell that she was all alone. The phone kept ringing and by the time she reached and picked the receiver, the caller had hung up.

"Darn, you stupid old thing," she muttered and went to the kitchen. It was neat and there were no signs of breakfast having been made that morning. No cereal remnants on the floorboard. The kettle was empty.

Aunt Maggie had absolutely no idea as to how the morning tea made its way to her room.

The phone broke her thoughts and this time she hastened a bit, to pick it up.

"Hello," she hollered.

"Madam, good morning. How was the morning tea?" the caller asked.

Aunt Maggie was confused.

"Who the heck are you and why are you enquiring about my morning tea?"

"Because I left it for you," he said.

Aunt Maggie was befuddled.

"Do you think I am a fool? Why on earth would you make me a cup of tea?"

"Madam, I am a thief and I have emptied your house of all its precious belongings. I left the tea by your bedside, just out of pity, because it seemed your family had deserted you. I have some good sense in me, you see!"

"How did you get in?" Aunt Maggie demanded.

"The door was wide open and I easily walked in," said the caller.

"How could her nephew have left without saying a word to her, although he had threatened several times that  he would do so. That spitfire of a wife he was married to, must have made him do this. They left the door wide open? How utterly ruthless. Even little Nancy had not pranced into her room? Even Ruffle had not said good bye?"

A wave of self-pity swept over her. She was abandoned in her own house.

"Now do you understand why I could not leave the house without offering you a cup of tea?" the caller said.

"To hell with you all," retorts Aunt Maggie and slams the receiver.

She opens the cabinet near the end of the stair case, where she always hid a Merlot in case of an emergency. She fondles the sleek neck of the bottle and looks ruefully at it. This was an emergency.

She slowly climbs the stairs up to her room. Huffing and coughing she pulls the edges of the disgusting stained carpet, in a fit of rage and despair.

Her eyes open wider than a saucer.

Multitudes of $$$$ bills lay there neatly stacked underneath. The tiles had been neatly removed and substituted by the $$$$.

Aunt Maggie sees the smiling face of Phil on each one of them.

The day Philip had that fatal heart attack he did mention that he had done something drastic.

"What have you done? You look as if you have robbed a bank!" she had exclaimed.

She finishes the bottle and smashes it on the stone tile and fumbles her way downstairs to the phone, with a wicked grin.

"Hello officer, my nephew has robbed a bank and is absconding. I can help you with more details."

She chuckles and chuckles .......







 

Maggie's malady (Revathi Raj Iyer)

Aunt Maggie is lovingly watering the geraniums careful not to smother them. Her hands are tightly clenched over the sleek neck of a Merlot. She suddenly stumbles over the uneven layer of landscape and the bottle lands with a thud on the wet grass, rolls over to the corner and seeks shelter between two pebbles. The bottle is empty.

Aunt Maggie looks aghast!

"Oh! dear Lord, have I been graciously pouring wine over my geraniums? No wonder they looked a tad hung over."

Aunt Maggie groans and makes her way to the porch where she is intercepted by little Nancy who hands her the phone.

"Now, who is this at this time of the day?"

"It is 10 am Aunt Maggie," says little Nancy and runs back inside the house.

Aunt Maggie grunts and holds the phone so close to her mouth, almost biting the receiver with her knotted teeth.

"Wherefrom did you get my number?" she asks with a twinge of suspicion wondering if the caller could be one of her buddies from the support group.

"Well, I saw a video you had posted on You Tube explaining the life coach skills you have and at the end, you left this number."

"Oh! I see."

Aunt Maggie had no memory of such a thing. Was it a prankster, she wondered again now knowing what to say. She wanted more wine to be able to think straight. But for that she had to walk up to the house first and then sneak a bottle without anybody noticing her.

"Are you there Maggie?" came the voice of the caller.

"Yes of course! If you say that I am a life coach, then I am one. Tell me what your problem is, dear?"

"Your problem cannot be bigger than mine. I have been watering my geraniums with Merlot. I am raving mad and hung over," Aunt Maggie thinks to herself.

"Go ahead dear, spill out your problem," she barks into the receiver.

"Okay. I want to break up with my boy friend and I really don't know how to do it without hurting his feelings for me. He loves me a lot."

"Is that all, dear? You have come to the right person. Aunt Maggie has broken several hearts when I was the reigning queen of my times."

"I never gave a darn if it hurt them or not," she thinks to herself.

"What do you suggest Maggie?"

"My dear girl, is your boyfriend a nature lover?"

"Yes, but how does that help?"

"Wait, dear and answer me first. Does he have a garden?" persists Aunt Maggie.

"Yes he has a vegetable garden and sells his produce in the local market. This helps him to pay his tuition fees. He is studying to be an agriculturist."

"All the more better," says Aunt Maggie, not knowing what solution to offer this caller and wondering what state of mind she was in when she posted the video on You Tube.

She looks around and then sees the empty Merlot resting in between the pebbles and then at her geraniums. They are almost wilted.

"Good heavens, for how long have they been doused with Merlot?" Aunt Maggie lets out a grunt again.

"Hello, I am waiting," the caller says.

"Dear, this is what you ought to do. It may sound stupid and preposterous but your problem will be resolved."

"How?"

"Take a few bottles of Merlot with you to your boyfriend's place and empty them all on his plants. That will definitely work," says Aunt Maggie happily and stumbles again as she enters the house and places the receiver on the hook.

The next week she gets a call at the same time from the same caller.

"Aunt Maggie," it worked. We broke up and my boyfriend now hates me.

"Very well then, isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, Aunt Maggie but now I have another problem."

"So quickly, dear. Now what is your problem," asks Aunt Maggie feeling a bit tired.

"I am pregnant, Aunt Maggie and I just broke up with the father of my baby. I need to win him back. Please tell me how I can do that?"

Aunt Maggie hung up and pronto changed the telephone number.

She forgot about the You Tube Video and it went viral when the number was coincidentally allotted to a life coach who was her namesake.