MellowDrama

What do you remember when you recall your childhood? I am assaulted by doubts when I think what my daughter will remember of me during her childhood.Will it all be evil? Full of shouting? Angry outbursts? Hurtful words? Then I decided to see what I recalled from my childhood. There are sights and there are sounds that came flooding. Often there have been episodes and incidents which crop up from nowhere, at times surprising me with the intensity and clarity with which they come on a perfectly normal day. But when I made a conscious effort of remembering the days bygone I was surprised with the warmth and fuzzy feelings that I encountered. Here is a peek. I recall changotra sessions at my naani's house. This is quite vivid. I can smell the winter sun of Palampur even now at its mere mention. The fragrance of this huge citrus fruit as it was brought out before the lunch hour from a tree in front of my naani's house.The peeling, the preparation of a special herbed salt and

Day before yesterday I connected with a school-time pal after good 16 years. I did not recognise his voice and to be very honest was quite suspicious till the end if it was the same guy as he said he was. But later on I kept thinking about this particular event. There was initially an awkwardness to talk to someone whom you have not seen of or heard from for a decade and a half but it vanished as the familiar began to make its way in to the conversation. The people who have seen us rather known as kids probably are the only people who are familiar with the essence of us, with the core from where we originate. They are probably the only people in the world who know us for who we really are. As children we are at our best. We have not been contaminated yet. We have not been touched and affected all that is good or bad with/ in the world. We are still learning the ways of the world. We might be learning the ropes but haven't perfected our stances while we are kids. These people w

Bura jo dekhan main chala, Bura na milya koi Jo  mann khojaa aapnaa, mujh se buraa na hoye Every few days I get a glimpse of how bad, shallow and scrooge-y fellow I am. And this without venturing out to see the Bura. Imperfections and all are okay but mine go beyond the permissible limit. Take my social skills for that matter. they are so negligent that I have been told recently on the face that I am lowliest of the low in this matter of great importance. Maybe, just maybe, that comment was the force behind this particular post. Hurrmmmphh!

I wasn't scared of marriage. I did not think about it could be one reason. And I did not know what all was part of the package could be another reason. But on examining it closer and having read a bit in the past few years, I realised I wasn't scared of marriage because I was not prepared, as a sacrificial goat often is, prepared for marriage. I think it largely begins and belongs with my mother as it begins, belongs and stays with other mothers. I think I wasn't scared of marriage and what all it will do to curb me as a person because I wasn't trained to be someone else after marriage. I was, since the childhood, put on a certain mental fodder that I took for granted would not change after the marriage. I am an avid reader and I was never fed the thought that I will be barred from reading when I got married. So why would marriage scare me? Brought up in such an atmosphere where I was taught by example how responsibilities of the household are meant to be share

Dear Netra You have been now around for a wonderful six years. I formed this letter in my head much before we celebrated your sixth birthday this October but I could not bring myself to give it shape because I can only write when you are away and when you are away and I think of you I am overwhelmed with my feelings (which range from tenderness to mad anger depending on what I remember of you at the moment) for you. Anyhow, now that you are out of the house playing and it is all suddenly quiet in here, I am writing this to tell you how happening this year been. You now outrun some other 6 year olds in the building, out-dance even bigger kids, get praise from the yoga teacher for your enthusiasm and have been bringing merit batches for good reading skills from the school. This year you have acquainted yourself with perfect. You look for perfect in everything from a doll to a shuttle that would just be perfect for your green bats. You have added jokes to your arsenal. You have dev