And it took a lock down to get here..

Folks, Villagers, Muggles ! Anyone home ? Huh !

Around 60 Days ago

My husband made this for me. It’s DIY.

He broke an old superhero toy and fixed it up with a key-chain to get here. Yeah, Key-chain…just the thing I was looking for (Hint: Sarcasm ) to keep my keys.Very useful at the time like this.

• 

Yes, that is an arm. Of a toy of course. I got it as a gift. From my loving husband.

Very romantic, Ain’t it ? I bet no other wife can say that about her husband – “Oh he gave me a gift. A hand made key-chain”.

No it isn’t heart-shaped. Or a Rose. Or a Teddy.

“It’s an arm. Batman Arm. “

He asked if I want more, perhaps a batman ear-rings ? The man sure knows how to show his love.

Either that or this was the first sign of him losing it.

And we were only in the first week of lock-down.
Oh my! What was I gonna do?

After 60 days.

He created this.

This isnt me. Who is she ?

 And many more.. Fat ladies and Jadhu-phocha expert gentlemen, Presenting the pencil sketch from my better half!

She is my Aunt. My father’s elder sis. In all her wrinkled glory… Aint she beautiful? One of my favourite.

And this is me. I asked him to make me skinny. Less chubby. But , He is a man of truth. Or man who could only copy good!

Anthony Hopkins – The badass .

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Rating: 5 out of 5.

After Batman arm ear-ring, this was obviously coming. Did you know she was in Israel Army for 2 years!

She doesnt look happy. Why?!

He could draw a cat too.

There goes his fav lady.

So, Stay Safe, Stay at home. Found a hobby yet? Am telling you , this ain’t going away until the last living person on earth has uploaded his bit on FB!

I My husband has done his bit.

• Jan 2020

• Feb 2020

• March 2020

• July 2020?!

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When you feel what you read.

Sometimes, I want a different ending. A different narration. The book that I am reading, becomes my book. I become the author and I do not like where the narration is going,  I do not want to go to the place, I do not want to feel this any longer. I can not live this any longer. I cannot watch it happen.

I am an ostrich with head in a pile of sand.

Are you still with me? Does it happen to you? Do you live the story?

There are a few books I could not finish. Various reasons and the stupidest of all was the font is too small, the big is too thick aka The Lord of the ring, actually, I say,  something jinxed about it, I could not even stand the movie.

Then there is  “All the lights you cannot see”. It is such a poetic book. Wonderful. I just stopped reading it. I could not live the life of a blind girl anymore. A smart blind girl. Blind, never mind that. She could see all the lights, more than me. I was tired of waiting, waiting for when the author will interweave the lives of the blind girl and the German boy. I needed a happy ending soon. It felt like a trap. I had to leave it midway.

Actually, those were the easy ones. The next one is so hard.

I want to see where it goes.  where Laleh Khadivi is taking me, rather taking Rez. And with each chapter, I am feeling the nudge. I am at the edge of the cliff along with Rez . He is almost Reza now. I haven’t touched the book since morning.

A Good Country. The book I picked up read about Iran and also Goodread had thumbs up reviews

 

A Good Country is a book about 14-year-old Rez, an America-born son of upper-middle-class Iranian immigrants. He is growing up as an all American teenager, with the complete surf, sex, weed, and chemistry deal.  The words are real. So real. I loved the writing style.

One incident distances him from his all American boy- gang, polarizes him and he becomes friendly with The others. The one who shares his background.  Arash is equally cool with lot of better manners and Fatima is lot more beautiful than Sophia. It took one bombing, one cheating case, one expulsion from school to nudge Arash over the fence. I think this was very weak. Very convenient .. Is it for real?

But I read on, for Rez. He is living his American life but now wants to know how to be a good man. How to be a good person. He believes what his father says “America is a good country“.

It looks good. So far. I can live this. One human to another.

Rez is still rez. But there is a series of bombing, the influence of Arash, and an airport incident where is he taken for questioning because of his name. He finds himself in a mosque and then another and then is mesmerized by brother-hood. He is now distanced from his all-white American friends, almost. His girl-friend is wearing Hijab.

And I know what the next chapter could be. and I cannot read any further. I want a different narration. A different ending. Rez is searching for his identity and how can Syria give him that?

I feel sorry for Rez. Now Reza. I do not want him to jump off the fence. To be brain-washed. I sure hope, he doesn’t take his girl-friend to Syria. To a good country. This is a scary subject.

I asked my Muslim husband if anyone can brain-wash him to go for a cause. He laughs at me. He can turn the preacher around to renounce his religion 🙂 I believe he can do that 😀 , To him, religion is crowd control and he is not scared one bit of it.

So then, why can’t Rez be like my husband? Doesn’t it feel like a bad choice of decision from an extremely bright intelligent Muslim teen? Maybe that is the point.

This is what an author does to you. This is what a good book does to you. I don’t have many chapters left to read, but I cannot read it further. I am an ostrich now, refuse to believe that Reza is perhaps going to cross borders in the next chapter. My head in the sand, I just cannot see this through. As if Reza is real. Maybe, he is.

Kudos to Laleh Khadivi. She is scaring the hell out of me. She is making me feel sad. I am gonna read her narration. But right now, I need a break. Because the story narration, the writing style is so vivid, Rez has come alive.

When you feel, what you read….

 

 

I miss you Ma.

and I never told you this and I needn’t tell you this ever because you already know this.

She is a Super-Woman or an analogy closer home – The Durga Mata. I guess every mother is, mine isn’t any different.

And it hugely annoys me that she can’t leave that stupid home of hers and come live with me for an infinite time.

That she is not here with me when I come back home with a refreshing glass of Nimbo Pani/cold drink on hot days.

Or listen to how my day had been.

Or waiting to have a meal with all of us.

That she isn’t here to mend my dress or fix my cold.

Just like she was during my school days.
I left home when I was 17 or 18esh.. for further studies. Meh! And then I wasn’t back living with her ever…. I completed my studies, met my husband, got married, visited home once or twice a year. And that’s how it has been since.

So literally, I have been missing her since I was 17.

I tell my husband, I was just bored with living out of the hostel, being a paying-guest, being with room-mates, the nomadic life of living away from home, that I agreed to marry him. I needed a home of my own. If I were living with my Ma, my story would probably have been different. His reply “kidnap kar leta tujhko 😉”

That is utterly romantic ❤ . So I know I was destine to marry him, to have a life that I have now. I married the right guy.

But that doesn’t stop me from imagining.

I imagine a different course of my existence. A parallel universe. One where I never left home, where am married closer home, where am with Ma for every festival, every small occasion, every birthday and anniversary. Where I don’t have to plan my vacation months in advance, book flight tickets. I imagine just booking a cab/ or driving to her home. I imagine picking up my bag and heading home, I imagine exchanging Meklahe Sadar with her, gossiping, cooking meals together.

None of which I can ever do in this lifetime.

All of which my sister is lucky to get with her.

Damn! That makes me jealous some days….

But why don’t I ?

I remember a conversation with Papa when he said, why can’t I do all that and more? Why can’t I just pick up my bag, book a flight and come home? Isn’t that the reason why I left home in the first place? So I could be independent and follow what I really desire.

Am blabbing. No one will probably get this. I don’t get this. Why can’t I do that? Why am I pissed on the days that remind me of her? (Am pretty sure this is as my sis is visiting her for a month long vacation and am sweating out here).

Everyone leaves home for a better life. I have a better life. Am not the first person to do so. I have no reason for not just booking up the flight and reaching Ma. I don’t know why can’t I manage that now?

Today is Mother’s day and am surrounded by the content this day has generated on every feed, chat, every social media. Do we need a special day for Mother?

No, A Mother is special every-day.

Yes, because I never told her how awesome she has been, how much she had worked all her prime and how much she needs to think about herself now.

Even so, I don’t want her to think of herself. I want her to be my side. Living in the same city that I am. Not this far.

Now, We They , my parents have a wonderful house at Assam. It is my parent’s blood and sweat. Their dream home and they moved into that place after my father’s retirement, which was much later after my wedding.

I live so far from her, that I no more dump my sob story on her, I feel a bit protective of her. Shielding her from my downs. I guess living on my own since 17 has made me as independent as my parents wanted.

Now that am a mother, I know I will always be there for my son. I don’t believe in long distance love 😉 he will have a hard time moving away from my nest.

But then he is a boy. A girl pines for her parent and a boy, well just don’t care. Sorry Boys 😉

I called Ma today and she was utterly busy with my sister and her twins. She was worried about my brother and she was going to cook dinner, fixing yard with Pa as a storm is approaching.

Day as usual for her.

Happy Mother’s Day Ma. I miss you.

Here is a Mother’s Day special from my 6-year-old boy. Aah.. he will never know the joy of leaving home. Literally 😉

Son: “Ma, What does comes first..the wedding or the kid?”

And my toughened Indian middle-class upbringing screams:
“Wedding son, definitely wedding! “

#HappyMothersDay

Am having a goosebump moment..

The feeling, that very soon I am gonna finally fulfill my long awaited desire. That next time, when  I come across this title, I will be able to raise my hand and dig into my memory of today.

I finally have a copy of Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie!

MIDNIGHT’S CHILDREN.

Am gonna read it. It’s stupid. I have a crush on a few titles. This is one of them.

In fact, I had to bribe my dear friend/hoarder-of-books/voracious-reader/sorry-cant-part-with-my-book with another of my favorite-yet-unfinished crush of mine. I will give you my “An Era in Darkness..” in exchange for Midnight Children? She paused just for a sec before saying yes. She has her crushes too 😉 I was feeling devilish exploiting her, but heart pounding for Midnight Children!

Some titles are the legend. The authors are the greatest artist in the world. They have created a masterpiece that will live in the memory of millions of peoples, that will outlive them and their readers. That will inspire millions of minds. Will make a person completely stranger to the author smile, or cry or just connect in the deepest level of the heart without even knowing of the existence. That is the power the authors have. The magician of words, the creators of history.

So then, How can I not have a crush? 

I have to admit. I just don’t go out and buy all my favorites. They come to me. Each one is an episode. Like it is a conspiracy to slowly unravel to me instead of just heading to my bookshelf.

Here is the conspiracy.

Gone with the Wind – From a college friend, who just wanted to offload book. Was at awe at the courage of Scarlet-O-Hara then and even today.

The Kite Runner – I don’t possess a copy. I got it from my colleague. I loved Afganistan and I could see a boy running under a blue sky covered with colorful paper wings even thinking about it.

The God of Small Thing– Has its own post 🙂

The Tattooist of Auschwitz – Story of Love in the most difficult of time.

On a side note- Why couldn’t I finish “An Era in Darkness…”? because two chapters into the book, I couldn’t look at anything British..ily without resenting them. I just hated them. Plain Hate. And I wasn’t feeling good about the hate. And I know, I love Hugh Grant and Harry Potter! So, it was a tussle and the best thing to do at the time was to abandon the book and pick it up after I could stabilize the raging hormones within me.

So, what am I doing here instead of delving into the story of children born on the stroke of midnight of 15th Aug, 1947?

Am just sitting and admiring the book. Literally. Am just happy that I can start reading it. I have it. The words, the story will come alive soon and I will die knowing I have read a masterpiece, that one day my son, his child and generation of Sayed clan to come have a chance to read this masterpiece and at that moment will be connected to my soul.

Too much? I should just stop now..Am having goosebumps!

Now, tell me about your crush ❤

 

A cheesy post for a non-cheesy man..

This post is gonna be really really cheesy. The sort that I don’t do often. In fact, I may never hit Publish.

But Since you are reading this and you are not me, so I must have hit “Publish”.

Lame, I know 😉

So, what makes this cheesy? Am gonna talk about Love, the goody-cuddly love and it is gonna sound like the love declarations from FB feed that I find so cheesy! I mean, You love your husband, tell him, don’t declare to whole wide FB world.

So this is how it goes.

Today ( This post is way too late, but let’s assume today is the day when) marks the 11th year of us being married. And we decided to lunch together since I couldn’t take time off office. We aren’t a couple to go out often. So going out is special. Luckily, I have switched job to a place very near to his office. So meeting for lunchtime was easy.

Now, this is important- I switched job recently, as recent as a month. and am adjusting to the new place. It is not a struggle, but living in past is my struggle.

It doesn’t help, that sometimes I miss my old colleagues. Life was much simpler and somehow happy. Life here is fantastic, but let’s say isn’t simple. You know the feeling when you are among loads of people, yet feel lonely sometimes even though you are so chatty in the head?

Like everything is just noise and you can hear the voice inside and outside your head. Or actually no voice, coz you are just bored and don’t want to think or listen.

I have this feeling during lunch time.

Of course, today wasn’t gonna be any different.

But hey it is different! I was going out with hubby.

We decided on a fancy restaurant just two blocks from my office. As I left office and walked toward the venue, I noticed everything is so much better here than the previous job-… the work, the garden, the office. Everything here is perfect.. but not familiar, not mine. It isn’t known. And with that feeling, I was spiraling down into the same silence 😦

And then I saw him, not where I expected. He had walked a couple of blocks more to reach me. To walk a distance little with me. In the mid of all unknown, I saw him with a cheesy smile.

And I was in love again. In a heartbeat. ♥ With him of course 😀

The feeling of familiarity was back. Am home and I can drop my shield and feel what I wanna feel. I could tell him what I miss. It felt good to be me, no pretentious.

We walked hand-in-hand like lovers, like first-timers who cant get hands off each other Awwww. lovely- cuddly told you 😉

And I enjoyed it, I enjoyed the comfort. He doesn’t even have to listen to me. It is just his presence that is a comfort. And tells me that I will go past this feeling, this chatty head.

I guess I really needed to see him.

And now to the blogosphere, perhaps to FB world too, Am gonna profess my love for my really really lazy-weekend-only-on-sofa husband of 11 years! Am glad you are here with me.

So this is really cheesy? Isn’t it?

I mean, what the hell – You love your husband, go tell him not write a post on blog 😉 next you will be sharing it on FB !

PS: The image is from our wedding, 11 years ago. Since then together we must have gained 200 Kgs. Isn’t that a #relationshipgoal!