Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Two ways to go.

There can be two ways, that I know of, to view things.

When someone is better than us, in which ever way, we can :

-either emulate them and be what is admirable or
-we can resent them, hate them, hurt them and become ugly.

When we're low, when life is going in the exact opposite way that we foresaw for ourselves, we can :

- Look at those below us, far worse than we are, and feel good about ourselves or
- we can look at those above us and feel even more frustrated.

When we're feeling cocky, self satisfied and arrogant and someone points it out we can

-Think of them as a real friend who cares more about YOU than of what you will think of them or
-Feel hurt, Angry and Avoid them thereafter.

When we think we know it all, have it all we can :

-Look at those below us and turn into even bigger know it alls and thus impede our own progress or
-Look at those above us and realise how much we still have to achieve...look at the scope for improvement.

When someone treats us badly we can :

-Follow tit for tat and be just like them or
-Be the bigger person and learn how Not to be like them.

When someone we love dumps us we can

-Learn a lesson, from both our mistakes and never repeat them, never compromise with ourself.
-Call him/her/it names and get drunk and have unsafe sex with strangers. Then choose similar losers once sober.

When Mom / dad scold we can :

-Yell "I hate you!", sulk, not talk, not eat or
-Realise s/he's the only one in the world who will never, ever leave us or wish us harm. And Try to see the wisdom or their words 'cos take it from me, they're always right. [don't tell them I said so though.]

Pic courtesy Little Girl LOst. Thanks pal :o)

More coming up, in installments. Please give me lessons you have learnt.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Doctors don't get asked for autographs.

....It's true. We don't.

We stay up nights.

We ease your pain.

We don't sleep well, or in peace, ever.

We worry even after you leave.

We wonder if you'll feel better.

We wonder if you'll call and let us know you're better.

We OD on caffeine to stay alert. We sometimes need a pill to sleep in peace.

We refuse wedding invitations to be there for our patients.

We put our lives on hold, to learn more, to educate ourselves more.

We sacrifice our family lives, often.

We don't go out and party because we can't get drunk because we won't be able to treat you efficiently. Yes, we're geeky.

We sit by your bedside and wait till the pain subsides.

We never even hint that we want to go back to bed. We can't go, not while you're hurting.

We care.

We hurt when causing you pain too. Did you know that? The local anaesthesia is as much for us as it is for you.

We never let our anxiety show.

We never let out insecurity show.

We listen to you.

Without looking at our watches repeatedly.

We even put up with your sometimes Know-It-All attitude despite your ignorance or incomplete information.

We try to educate you, dispel your fears.

Even as we deal with our own fears.

We watch people younger to us getting married, having babies, being happy...and we still put our lives on hold till we can complete the chunk of our education.

We watch them and sometimes wish we were them.

We get out of touch with friends...often we live in our own world of medicines.

We wish you wouldn't doubt us.

We hate dealing with your distrust.

When we stand by your side to support you while you watch your stillborn baby, we fight to hold back our tears. We cry for your loss and pray for your souls after you leave.

We rub your tummies, we wipe your tears, we even clean your piss and vomit.

But its SRK or AB or PC whose autographs you want.

Dedicated to all conscientious Doctors around the world. And Janitors, nurses, sweepers and all medical personnel.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

The Wee Little Tale of Sneha.

The Wee Little Tale of Sneha .

"So who will make charts for the poem? I need one chart...", questioned the second grade Hindi teacher.

Two hands immediately shot up...the other students looked at their feet or their partners...

"Sunita, Sneha...But I only need one chart..."

"Please ma'am me..."
"Ma'am I'll make it better...!"

After a bit of rumination, the teacher relented "OK both of you can make it and I'll choose the one that is better."

Sneha didn't know whether to be pleased or nervous, so she was both. Competition made her extremely unsure of herself...well, she would try anyway.

"Here Sneha, you can take the pink chart, Sunita take this yellow one. I want them tomorrow, poem with a drawing next to it...remember the supervisor and headmaster may come to class and look at the chart so make it properly.", warned the teacher ominously.


"Daddy please!! I tried!! See those pencil marks ? I can't do it! And it has to be submitted tomorrow...the supervisor will see it and if I don't submit it, my teacher will shout at me!!", Sneha begged her father while looking beseechingly at her mother.

"You do draw well darling...", her mother said coaxingly to her husband who appeared to be melting.

"Hmmm...Ok. But what if the teacher comes to know?"

"No no...I promise I won't tell her! I'll say I made it myself! "

"Ok, give me the poem and I'll draw it. Fine way to spend a weekend. Drawing at work and at home!"


"Ok, show me the two charts...I hope both of you got them ready? I want no excuses."

"Yes Ma'am!", Sunita and Sneha both piped up proudly.

"Ok, first Sneha show me yours and then we'll see Sunita's work."

Sneha proudly [and anxiously] unrolled her finished chart complete with poetry written neatly and the drawing of the old woman depicted in it. She may not have had the perfect features but she was good enough.

"Hmm...this is OK. Nice...You did this yourself? Or did someone help you? Children look at you like it?"

"Yes ma'am...", echoed the little boys and girls in unison.

"Ma'am I did it myself!", said Sneha, coloring a little.

"OK, good ,now Sunita show me what you have made."

Sunita reluctantly opened her yellow chart towards the teacher.

"What is this Sunita?"


"This is to be put up on the drawing board? In front of the supervisor and the headmaster?! I didn't give you this chart to tear and dirty with your pencil marks! And the poem writing is so small I can't even see it! Do you think anyone will be able to read it on the board? And what is this drawing? How could you submit something so shabby??"

Sunita hung her head in shame.

So did Sneha.

The yellow chart was torn at the edges, probably in the bus ride to school. The light color of the chart paper made the grubby pencil marks stand out glaringly. The poem was written in an uneven hand, the lines travelling up and down, but not in a straight line. The drawing of the woman was poorly a child's hand. But they were children after all...

"Look class...See the two charts side by side? Which on is neater? more presentable? Which writing and drawing is better? Sunita's or Sneha's?", the teacher conducted an instant mini poll

"Sneha's ma'am...", the class pointed out in agreement with the teacher.

"So shabby".
Sneha watched a tear splash on the ground beneath Sunita.

Sneha's chart was immediately put up on the chartboard and the class oooh'ed and Aaah'ed over it.

Sunita's was in the large dustbin outside the class. For the rest of the day
Sunita remained silent.


"Come on get in line...walk straight to the bus.", the prefect scolded Sneha who was the last one to leave in her class.

"Just a minute I forgot my mother will shout at me.", Sneha needed to get back to class urgently while it was empty.

"Ok, but I'll be watching for you."

Sneha ran back to class, roughly unpinned the chart her father had made, from the board and rolled it. Unable to find the rubber band to hold it in place she just clutched it in her chubby little fingers and ran as fast as she could before anyone could see her and stop her.


"Beta didn't your teacher like the chart?", Sneha's mother asked as she saw her tired and grumpy daughter walk in the front door.

"She liked it, but the other girl's chart was better...and she made it herself..."

"'s ok need to feel bad."

"No...I am just feeling hot...and hungry."

Sneha could now take her afternoon nap in peace and with a light heart.


Afterword : Just so you know, this is a true story [not word for word] and till this date Sneha remembers Sunita, from her ponytail to her grubby hands and most of all she remembers the teardrop that dared to fall from her lowered eyelids and her head hung in shame.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Questions are so many

This is a poem written 10yrs ago, by the other contributor of this blog, namely Abinitio....hope you like it :o)

Questions are so many,
but answers are few.
All I know is that
I miss you.

When my phone rings,
I hope its you.
In the crowd, my eyes
search for you.
Every now and then,
I think of you.
Does this happen to u too?

Why does the day seem brighter
after talking to you ?
Why does Life become beautiful
when m with you?
Why is my mind filled of
thoughts of u?
Do you have answers to questions so few?

Questions are so many,
but answers are so few.
All I know is that
I like you.

Why do I wana come all the way
Just to see you?
Why to I always ask to meet you?
Why do I wana spent
all my time with you?
Why isn't my day
complete unless I talk to you?

Questions are so many,
but answers are so few.
Do you think that
I m falling in love with you?

Friday, May 08, 2009

Mon Ami, the Rain and You.

Mon ami the raindrops
on my window...
I wait to watch
you drive up my gate
I bear your favorite
butterscotchy iced treats.

And you mon ami
bought me ice lollies
you know i love
them in the rain
not knowing if what
grazes my tongue is
a raindrop or the
gently melting delight
on a stick
coloring my tongue

To top it all,
Your moist kisses,
mingling with them both,
completes my heart's
trembling joy
like nothing else
mon ami
ever has
ever could.

Thursday, May 07, 2009

Deal's a Deal!

I've got a deal with my better half. I lose the excess blubber and he completely quits smoking!

Fair is fair.

So onward ho. Today was my fast [for purposes of salvation]. Tomorrow onwards I begin a Diet cum Detox programme. I even planned in advance for it. Now I've done this programme before...wasn't overweight then, but it worked wonders around my bulging belly anyway. lost the 6kgs i was holding on in excess and kept it that way till college. Mind you, I had more self control at 16 than I do today. I wish... No , I will have the same determination I had back then.

Bear in mind this programme is being followed under strict supervision of a Qualified medical professional. And is not to be attempted otherwise.

I have 14 inches to lose aroung my belly, which according to personal experience is a far more reliable indicator than Weight [scales.].

The rules for the next 3 days [out of 12days total.] are as follows :

- Eat Homemade curds. I made them from double toned milk.
- No sugar
- No juices.
- No fizzy drinks.
- Only 2 cups black tea/coffee.
- At least 12 glasses water.


Measure waist after 3 days.


Update here :o)

Apparently Goals are kept better if shared publicly. To avoid humiliation one follows the goal come what may!


Anyone wishing to follow this with me is welcome to keep me company!


Wish me luck!

[p.s : It's not a crash diet. It's a detox programme. To get rid of the wastes of the body. Weight loss may or may not occur as a by product. If you do this, please take multivitamins like becosules.]

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

A poem by Mario Benedetti : Tactic and Strategy

A poem by Mario Benedetti
Tactic and Strategy

My tactic is
Looking at you,
Learning how you are,
Loving you as you are,
My tactic is
Talking to you
And listening to you
To build with words
An indestructible bridge
My tactic is
Remaining in your memories
I don't know how
Nor with which pretext
But remaining with you.

My tactic is
Being frank,
And knowing that you are frank,
And not selling each other
So that between us
There is no curtain
Nor abyss.

My strategy is,
Deeper and
My strategy is
That one of these days
I don't know how
Nor with which pretext
You finally
Need me.
[from 'Poemas de otros' (1973-1974), translated from the Spanish

This poem was sought out by Mainak aka Bokom, a good friend of "Little girl Lost", who happens to be my friend. She shared this with me and i decided to share it with the rest of you. :o)

Friday, May 01, 2009

ToTaLLy TabOo part-7

This is the last post in the series. Bear with me, because it's also the longest.

Preksha remembered all the reasons she had fallen in love with Rajat in the first place. She was tired of all the flimsy, soppy, fawning, fake guys who
proclaimed their "true" love for her but never seemed to "love" her enough to commit.
Then there was Rajat. The fellow was shy, sweet and had a great deal of difficulty proclaiming his love for her but was more than ready to commit. He wasn't
wild. He wasn't lavish. He was simple. He was a gentleman. He wasn't expressive in front of anyone, he staunchly hated public display of affection, even the minor sort. Even in movie theatres...he wouldn't kiss he unless they were almost the only two people in the hall. But he'd always get her frooti and popcorn. Even if they were overpriced and so she refused...but he knew she loved popcorn. And playing with his fingers in the bucket. He was chivalrous to the hilt. No matter where they went, he always put her ahead, watched every step, if she exclaimed in delight over anything...he would secretly get it for her.

He cared
about her feelings...she could tell him anything...everything. She made sure he knew her most deepest, darkest thoughts...he didn't have many of those himself...being uncomplicated. He knew, everthing about her and still wanted to marry her. That aspect of their relationship never wavered. No matter what she did...said...felt...or whether or not his family approved.

No longer was he Mama's boy. Of her he simply asked that she remain as she was. Nice and polite.
Towards his family. And of anyone ever said anything against her, behind his/her/their backs...he told her to come inform him immediately. He would make sure he indicated, however subtly, that he was aware of what was going on. And voice his disapproval.

"Why don't you ever tell them straight out that you hate the way they behave towards me? "

"Baby...despite their attitudes, behaviour, complains...I've never once...left you. That in itself is a strong statement isn't it? Thats something they seem to be
realising slowly. That I'm marrying you, sooner or later. Whether they like it or not. You are wonderful, a good human being. You have been nice to them despite knowing what they've said about you. So they never really have anything to say outwardly against you. For that, Thank you. It makes it so much more easier for me to defend you...stand up for you."

How was one to argue against such gentle logic? He was right. Fighting never solved anything. Love did.

*************************************************************** Once she left his place after a terrible fight. They had both said ugly things to one another. She as usual, had no balance in her cell phone. He was the hoarder. On her way back, she recieved smses from the Cell company informing her that her mobile had been recharged with money. And then he called her telling her that he'd recharged her phone and to keep smsing him till she got home and to call him once she reached...even if she didn't want to talk to him.

He just wanted to know she was safe.

He respected her immensely. Her career. Her moods. She must have taken it for granted that he would always understand how she felt without saying a word.
She forgot he wasn't a mind reader. He had great difficulty translating girls. But there was never a time, when she had verbally asked him to support her, and he had denied. He always supported...what he was aware of.

It wasn't just him, Preksha realised.
She had changed too.
Stopped sharing her feelings. Brooding. Being uncommunicative. It wasn't like he never asked. He
did. Sometimes she would catch him staring at her...but he always turned away when she caught him. She was the one to withdraw from the bed. Agreed he was disinterested initially...what with work, family life etc...but when he did try, subsequently, she withdrew.

Or was cold in bed.

There was a problem. She had to fix it. Dysthymia was fixable. She needed to pull up her socks.
Maybe Rajat had his faults. But who didn't? Everyone was sweet and sour.

************************************************************************************** For their movie date, Preksha dressed carefully....wearing a pleated, above knee length, silvery gray skirt. And a tight black top. Accessories. High heeled shoes. Locks left loose, slightly tousled. His favorite scent.

Rajat made sure not to wear green, to leave a day's stubble just the way Preksha liked his beard, A blue, button down shirt with well fitting denims and his
handsome black shoes with the slightly pointed toes. Her favorite perfume.

They were both nervous. Funny, you'd think 2years into marriage, they would stop feeling like nervous teenagers...but this was like their first date.

Ting Tong!

"P could you please get the door?"
"I'm busy...!"
"I'm busier...Please get it!"
"Fine." Preksha mumbled.

"For P?" , said the flower delivery guy presenting her with a huge bouquet of a basket. "Huh?!", gasped Preksha...her heart beat rapidly, and in fear...were these from Nimish ? Had he found her home address from the office files? How could he pull a stunt like this? It's not like she had let him see that she was changing, within, she alone knew how confused she was.

Nimish or Rajat?

Husband or lover?

But Nim was more than just a lover. He had become her friend. But would she have been interested, at all, in him if Rajat had been what he was now?

Before she could even look at the card, Rajat came up behind her and asked..."Like them?"

"All my love,
Rajat. "

"They're from you! But...but...we're just leaving...! You didn't have to...", stuttered P.

"No...I didn't have to. I wanted to. Someone as beautiful as you...deserves...something as beautiful..."

"well...they're gorgeous...far more so than I am..."

"Not to me. To me, you are incomparably breathtaking. Not just on the surface...that is my love, are gorgeous beneath the surface."
He reached out and kissed her cheek. They left for the movie.

************************************************** In the dark theatre, the movie was playing... Rajat had not yet made a move to hold her hand. He was nervous. She wondered if he would hold had been forever since they'd done so... A song played...

Rehna tu

hai jaise tu
thoda sa dard tu

Preksha gasped softly. The lyricist may well have been reading her mind. This song was about her Rajat. Fussy Rajat, Rajat who would first scold her and then love her. She turned to him and softly placed a well manicured hand on his cheek and stroked it gently. She felt him smile, he turned his face to kiss the inside of her palm...she slid her hand down and he raised his hand up to capture hers, gently, and they entwined fingers... And they did not let go till the end of the movie. It was worth foregoing the popcorn.


Rajat was torn up. On the one hand, he couldn't wait for the movie to finish in order to do what he had planned after that. Then again, he hadn't anticipated
the first real intimate moment he had shared with Preksha after nearly a year...

"Will you help me pick out a present? I mean, you don't have to pick it out, just come with me and tell me if you think she'll like it...I mean, I know she will
because I saw her browsing on ebay...but she deserves real diamonds...I don't trust ebay, even if she does. C'mon, skip the gym. Just once.", pleaded Rajat to Nimish.
"Dude...I'm glad things are better for you...but its kind of wierd helping you pick a gift for your wife when I don't even know her name!! Let alone her likes and dislikes! Why don't you ever call her by name?", mused Nimish.
" I do. Just not in front of anyone else. "
"Because...?", prompted Nim.
Rajat was silent. For a moment...
"Well...she's mine. Only mine. I love her. And I don't want to share her. With anyone. I don't want anyone to know her as well as I do. I just ...cannot bear it. I can't help, being so possessive about her. She's innocent and I'm there to take care of her. Protect her...if you will. I never listen to a single word against her. Not from anyone. Not friends, not family. Not even my mother. I know her. She's sweet and pure. And honest. the first thing she has ever hidden from me. And I know, that it's my fault. But I know she loves me, maybe she's angry but she loves me. And I also know...that once we're OK, she will leave this..other guy. This substitute. This man, the thought of whom makes me burn with hate, anger and shame. She will. I know her.", Rajat said, red faced.
"Let's go."

They went to Rashi. One of the most well known jewellery stores in town. And the most reliable too.
"Can you please show me the diamond heart I reserved the other day?"
"Of course Sir...But as I told you previously, there was no need for reservation...we do have other similar pieces. it is..."

It was exquisite...a sterling silver wound heart, lined by a delicate row of diamonds on one side.

"It's have to get it. ", Nimish offered his opinion. Maybe he would get one for Preksha too...he had never yet given her any jewellery...this would
be a nice way to start. She never wore anything around her neck.

"You said you have more such pieces...may i see one ?", asked Nimish.
"You too??? For who? Anyone I know.,,?", asked Rajat curiously.

"Sure you tell me your wife's name and I'll reciprocate buddy.", joked Nimish.

"Point taken. Good luck...I'm sure she'll love it. "

The jeweller who worked on commission was simply delighted. With good reason. ************************************************

Dinner was excellent. They were the only two people in the restaurant. The waiters made sure they got their privacy. Rajat fed her salad, hummus, khubz, roasted chicken and more...she fed him. There was much hand holding and smiling and looking into each other's eyes. The waiters smiled surreptitiously.


When they got home, Rajat opened a bottle of wine. Turned on the Music system to a playlist he had created. Priscilla Ann sang...

"Dance with me..."

She came into his waiting arms...cheek to cheek...
"You never used to slowdance."
"I still don't ... it's just an excuse to hold you in my arms."

I was a little girl,
alone in my little world,
who dreamed of a little home for me.

"You'll always be my little girl...", he whispered into her ear...

I played pretend between the trees,
and fed my house guests bark and leaves,
and laughed in my pretty bed of green.
I had a dream That I could fly from the highest swing. I had a dream.

"I'll make your dreams come true. I'll never forget them, not ever again...", he continued.
Preksha's lips trembled. Her eyes began to sting.

Long walks in the dark through woods grown behind the park, I asked God who I'm supposed to be.
The stars smiled down on me, God answered in silent reverie. I said a prayer and fell asleep.

"You were the answer to my prayers, you're my life, my wife, my everything...", he said, even as he left a teardrop fall on his shoulder. He felt her tremble and held her closer.

I had a dream

That I could fly from the highest tree.
I had a dream. Now I'm old and feeling grey.
I don't know what's left to say
about this life I'm willing to leave.
I lived it full and I lived it well,
there's many tales I've lived to tell.
I'm ready now, I'm ready now,
I'm ready now to fly from the highest wing.
I had a dream.

"I want to grow old with you. We'll never be grey my sweet. Forgive me. For everything...No matter how little I say it...I've loved you, in all the ways possible...but most especially like my baby girl...since the time we got together.", now the tears were falling in earnest. He wiped them... Kissed her eyes. One by one. Her cheeks. Her forehead. Her hands. Her heart.

He brought out the Sterling silver chain and heart locket, and placed it around her bare neck.

She touched it...and kiss him back, in earnest and in apology.
The night that followed was Preksha's way of saying she was sorry...and that she forgave him. They were in love again, and they intended to stay that way...


Nimish couldn't wait to meet Preksha. He wanted to see her face...when he gave her the heart. His heart.
But when he saw her face, he knew she had been crying...
"Honey..?Is everything ok? Did He...", enquired Nimish.
"No. No...He's...well...he's...wonderful. I...I can't do this...US ... anymore. I'm going to give my marriage another chance. I' sorry. I have a be
happy again...and to feel good while doing so...about myself...I don't know..what to say...I'm so sorry...for hurting you...", said Preksha in tears...
"But we're so good together?!"
"I know...but we're not real. I never stopped loving my husband. I just...thought he stopped loving me. But he didn't. "
" I love you too."

" I know...but I don't love you. I love my man. That's why I was...just waiting for a gesture...and I went back to him. I'm sorry. I can't live without him. helped helped me stay alive...for that I'll forever in your debt."
"No. No no no...I Love you! No debt. If you're happy...really happy...then I have to let you go...I just...wanted to give you a token of my love...but now I guess it'll just be something to remember me by....". Nimish said...with a breaking heart and then he glanced at her neck upon which to place his gift...his heart...

But her neck was no longer bare.
She was wearing someone else's heart.

"Actually my love, it's ok. I should go. You... happy...ok? You owe me that! You owe me...I love you."
"Nim, I'm...sorry...", Preksha apologized...hating herself for breaking this man's heart. Nimish left, eyes blurring with tears.
It was over.


: Thank you, all of those who have been reading and following this...and all those who have been leaving their comments. You really encouraged me to keep going. And I hoped my story and I were able to live up to your expectations. I just wanted to say...That Rajat and Nimish are both close to my heart. They are the opposite sides of one coin. We both have similar opposites within us. And if we're lucky...we have someone, who loves us back. So it's upto us, to make sure they never doubt how much we care. This is a request...please show those you you love them. Before it is too late.