As my exams are in March, I get up at 4 AM to study everyday, which makes me so exhausted by night time that I have to drag my weary body to bed. If not I might end up sleeping on the kitchen floor..I haven’t read any new novels neither have I watched anything on telly..not even Mentalist. ( I have a huge crush on Simon Baker ūüôā¬†¬† )

I will be 44 next month. My oldest child is almost 17 and I really don’t have to study anymore..But there is a spark in me..that I refuse to let go..the quest to learn more..and do the things I dreamed of doing.

I have this poem on my dressing table. It is attributed to Pablo Neruda, but I am not sure of its authenticity.

You start dying slowly
if you do not travel,
if you do not read,
If you do not listen to the sounds of life,
If you do not appreciate yourself.

You start dying slowly
When you kill your self-esteem;
When you do not let others help you.

You start dying slowly
If you become a slave of your habits,
Walking everyday on the same paths…
If you do not change your routine,
If you do not wear different colours
Or you do not speak to those you don’t know.

You start dying slowly
If you avoid to feel passion
And their turbulent emotions;
Those which make your eyes glisten
And your heart beat fast.

You start dying slowly
If you do not change your life when you are not satisfied with your job, or with your love,
If you do not risk what is safe for the uncertain,
If you do not go after a dream,
If you do not allow yourself,
At least once in your lifetime,
To run away from sensible advice…


Parallel lives

I do most my shopping online and even with the cost of shipping added, shopping online works out cheaper.. ( not in the past one month though as AU$ is on a southward journey). The first thing I do when I get a parcel if shipped from within Australia is to look at the stamps.. Just like I did when I was living in India all those years ago. Every Christmas/birthday card¬† envelope is¬†carefully ¬†checked to see if the stamp has a seal on it. And the joy of finding a stamp without the seal.. I am sure I wouldn’t have to describe that, because most of you have felt it at sometime in your life if you grew up in India.. Even those stamps which has a small bit of seal on it is inspected again to see if it can be used again without the post office staff noticing it.

Yesterday I received a parcel and there was 17 $ worth of stamps on it that did not have the seal and I was just so excited. My son was home when I discovered my precious find and he looked at me as if I was an alien.

“What are you doing?” He asked

Clearly it was very obvious to the viewer that I was carefully cutting around the stamps, so I could soak them in water and remove it and reuse it.

“You do realize what you are doing is unethical? Those stamps are not meant to be reused” He said and followed it up with a lecture of how irresponsible I am..

I was so excited to find those stamps without seal and after my son’s reprimand..my helium balloon lost all the air..

Parallel lives we lead..


Glory box/hope chest/dowry chest.

I am not planning to pay a cent as dowry for my girls nor am I expecting any dowry for my son. However, I do collect things for my children to put in their glory box when they leave home. ( not just for my two girls, but also for the girl who will be part of my family)

I collect heirloom linen. Ideally I would have liked to do the embroidery myself, but I am lazy and not very skilled. Most of the table linen now a days are machine embroidered and not many people are keen to do hand embroidery. By the time my children set up their own home the chances that they would be able to find anything hand embroidered is pretty slim, so I collect those items for  them. So far, I bought each of them a embroidered table cloth, napkin set and breakfast tray set

I want to buy each of them a quilt from here. (http://lancasterpa.com/quilts/quilt-shop-at-millers/) They have so many pretty quilts there.

I also bought a dinner set ( antique bone china) for each of them, a crazy tea set ( different patterns of trios) and a  silver tea set.

Every year I buy them a gold coin on their birthday..

I find it really exciting to buy things for my children to take with them when they leave home.

Precious things

Often one of my children would tell me that “you are the nastiest meanest mother on planet earth” and though I know why they are saying that ( because they can’t get what they want) it does hurt my feelings. I usually reply that it my duty to be a responsible mother and sometimes you might find my decisions are not what you want, but we will just have to live with it, because I am the mom here and I am doing my job,¬†if I am the nastiest meanest mother, then so be it.

And then they do something really out of this world that makes me the happiest mother on planet earth.

Every Christmas my children ask me what I want? and to make their life easy, I have always asked said “Something for the kitchen/house” and then I keep my fingers and toes crossed that¬†they will not buy me any kitchen gadgets. I am totally old school. I prefer to knead bread dough in a bowl¬†than use a machine and then clean the whole bloody thing. I also hate surprises and check/spy/inspect all the packages that are kept hidden/in plain sight. This year, I even checked the attic and there was no sign of any Christmas gift for me. ( And yes, I was upset) Even on Christmas eve, I checked under the tree and there was no gift for me.

Christmas morning, I woke up hearing my kids whispering. “Ha, they forgot to buy me a gift and they know they are going to be in hot soup and are discussing how to weasel themselves out of the trouble they are in” so I thought.

I heard Baby saying to her siblings ” I think mom is up”.

I waited with bated breath to give them a piece of my mind ( for not buying me a Christmas gift of course) and in walked my three kids with huge grin on their face.

“Merry Christmas Mom” They said and gave me the smallest gift I ever received. A small tiny box. “Open it” they chorused.

With trembling hands I opened the tiny box and found this

photo (3)

My children gave me a Mother’s ring last Christmas with all their birthstones. Tourmaline ( Oct)¬†for the baby I lost. Alexandrite for Yaya¬†( June), Aquamarine for my son ( March) and Garnet for Baby (¬†December).

To say that I was touched would be the understatement of the year..






I am not sure when old age started creeping in on me and I never thought it would be this difficult. Surely it was the arrogance of my youth that made me so immune to the signs of old age that reared its ugly head months ago.

I think the first sign was when I couldn’t thread the needle. I¬† never ever had difficulty threading the needle until one¬†fine day a year ago, I just couldn’t. I am stubborn by nature and sat with the needle for a very long time till I managed to thread the needle. I should get new reading glasses, but I am still not ready for it ( Does one ever get ready to accept wearing old woman’s glasses?)

Two days ago, I had to sign up my kids for Basketball and while filling in the form, I needed to get my credit card details. I asked my son for help and he was none too pleased. Eventually he made a mistake and I got really annoyed with him, which in turn made him get annoyed with me.¬†His point being, if¬†you wanted to write the number without making a mistake,¬†then you should do it yourself and my point being I asked for help and you should help me without being grumpy and not making a mistake. To make things worst,¬†I have no difficulty seeing the CVC code at the back of the credit card ( black numbers on white background), but not the credit card number which are shiny silver numbers on almost shiny silver card. He couldn’t understand how that is possible. I¬† just wanted my son to accept that I can’t see things without glasses and help me. I didn’t want to admit¬†my frailty. ( Of course all these could be easily avoided if I would get my ass to an optometrist and get new prescription glasses)

As I drove back home silently. still being angry at my son,¬†it occurred to me that I am really growing old and it isn’t my children’s duty to step in to cover my frailty. It is my job to accept that simple truth..that I am getting frail and my children are getting strong..