The Shooting Star.

A lovely book by Shivya Nath. These days I am reading her. What impresses me is her language, her choice of words. The way she narrates her travel story, her journey from being a homely Indian Girl to the Global Girl she is now, touches my heart deeply. I tried to put off that book and start working on mine, but there is a little whisper at the back of my mind which lures me back to read it and by the time I realise, I am already deeply immersed in that book of hers. Her style is so expressive that it makes one experience the feelings she is going through. When the adrenalin running through her veins; circulates in yours, you cannot make out.

Through her writing you can feel the cool breeze rubbing your cheeks. The night sky of the places she’s been to comes alive in your memories. Her fear, her confusion and her anxiety all become your personal experience. Her agony, her joy her friends and above all her experience with the people she met through her journey and people on her personal upfront all seem acquainted to you.

I never found any memoir so inspiring and intriguing that made me cry, cry for the life I am missing, the way I wanted to be. This particular book made me realise that I have wasted my half life doing nothing apart from washing laundry, cooking meals and dusting the cob-webs. No, I am not blaming this book about making me cry but praising it to make me accept the small voice of my heart. From past few months I am longing to lead a nomadic life, somewhere deep inside the far off places. The places which are not yet been explored call me. From the age of adolescent, I’ve been touring places. But I now realise that I don’t want to be a tourist. Actually my heart aches for wandering. I want to be a traveller in the real sense and not merely a tourist.

`The Shooting Stars’ engulfs me so much that at the point I am craving for getting back what my soul is searching for. Infect, I want my life to end up soon and I be born as a wander or have the opportunity to lead a free life.

I want to scale the high mountains, run in the valleys, breathe in the fresh air. I want to feel the nature embracing me. I want the sea waves to giggle under my feet, the warm sand and wind slapping against my face. The rain drops drenching me to the core of my soul and quench my thirst.

There is so much that I have not done and it pricks like a thorn in my heart but the time is not over yet. I still am breathing and walking so I have decided to make up for the lost time. May be I cannot climb summits or paraglide but still I can travel to new places and at least try to track some of the mounts. Meet people who are not yet civilised go, deep in the heart of my country. Learn from the nature sleep under the open sky counting My Shooting Stars!

Word of the day – Healing

What is visible can be cured can be treated but what is hidden inside us, buried deep inside our mind and heart and is hurting can not be understood by all but some.

Thus, the healing of such things which are abstract and can be felt but not seen require heartfelt prayers and emotional touches to heal.

Every person is unique and requires different techniques to heal their mental peace and emotions. But prayers are something special and when sent from a heart to another, work miracles. I don’t say that it will cure you but it surely will strengthen you and motivate you to come victorious out of the darkness.

Here I am sharing a picture I found on net which gave me immense peace in time of anxiety and along with I pray, for all those who read or see this post of mine, to have peace and calm in their hearts.

Image source : wallpaper.com

Imagine you are present there, lying down on that soft green grass, surrounded by the lush green trees. The breeze is cool and slow filled with the scent of wild flowers.

I pray to the vast universe that surrounds us, to mother nature. With my open arms I request you to embrace us. To show us the serene views, to let us feel the gentle love of mother nature and let us absorb the nothingness and quiet surrounding to let our throbbing brains clamdown and anxious minds relax. Let us, oh mother nature, breathe in the purity and realise that nothing is out of reach, we just have to ask for with whole heart and true belief that our prayers are heard and answered by the universe and that miracles do happen.

And believe me it does work. May some other words for you, but it does. I am thankful to word of the day challenge to give me this opportunity to share my prayer with all.

Introducing budding artists.

Hi.. everyone.🙋‍♀️

This post I am creating to introduce some budding artists whom I know and yes ofcourse both my children. Hope you all will support and appreciate their work also.

Every week I will be introducing one child and their work. Hope you all find it likeable and encourage them.

So, here comes the first child. She is my distant niece and is 12 years old. Her name is Vini and she is sharing a beautiful poem with us.

Vini, my beautiful niece

She awaits your guidence.

5 seconds count!

Only five seconds to ten! She started to run to reach the bus stand. She could see the bus coming and still five hundred meters to go. It was her first day to her dream job and she had planned so much around it. What if she misses the bus? No, she cannot afford it because she was already warned that the job was given to her, bypassing seven other suitable candidates. If she wants to carve niche for her in this field, she has to crush others and reach the top of ladder but if she loses, the company was not ready to pay for her mistakes and will throw her out of the job the next moment.

Now, breathing was heavy. Chest felt bit tight and congested. Still, she tried little hard to run faster. The home loan documents of her new home, her new car and mother’s health, all swung before her eyes.

She stretched her hand to signal the bus to wait and saw the seconds hand to tick ten. She took one more decisive step when her vision went black and her hand swung in air. She took a deep breath almost a sigh and with a thudding sound fell down. People on the road and stand gathered around. Her head banged on road and eyes closed.

Something that scares me sometimes.

Paranormal – one of my favoriteacan’t say completely that I believe in it nor I can say that I don’t believe but it amuses me. I mean the topic.

Well leaving behind all the debate of I believe or I don’t, let me tell you a story. A story which occured years ago in my ancestral home.

It goes like this, one of the men working at our mansion, had always trouble sleeping in his quarter. As I mentioned it was ancestral so was centuries old. And being so, it had it’s own share of spooky stories. But,now don’t let me embrangle you from the main story. Well,I think I should not call it a story but true incident. So, this guy, who worked for my grandfather was given a quarter in the outer portion of the mansion. There were others also in his neighbouring quarters but they never said a thing about some sort of disturbances.

This guy alone had a problem, so we all thought either he is imagining things or hallucinating under the influence of cheap alcohol. But every morning he used to wake up with sores on his face and shoulders. In the evenings when he used to come up with cowmilk for the household, we used to surround him to tell us the story of his ‘brave’ encounters. May be from there my interest in paranormal and horror genre started.

Well, coming back to my experience, yes my experience as now I can own the incident bravely. One day he was supposed to go to his village and return by the night. That evening another house help who was assisting him, came to deliver milk and gave the keys to his quarter, saying sorry as he couldnot stay in there. First we thought this guy is influenced by the stories but then he showed a slap mark on his left cheek, which he had covered from a cloth, used to tie on head to save from heat.

Next day, we children planned to go and see in the quarter, what the mystery was? So, without telling elders and the nannies and specially the governess, we sneaked out. Six of us, a whole bunch of screaming and shouting children, full of excitement, reached the outer garden and then crossed the garage areas and there was the outer line of the house helps’ quarters.

The keys were with the eldest cousin. At time he used to be very weak hearted. And I was the bravest one. All the others in the group encouraged me to take the keys and open the door. And being a good loving elder cousin to rest of them, I did what they wanted me to. We entered in and to my surprise, the bulb which one of us switched on, went off with a blast. And imagine who was the first to escape? No, it was not my eldest cousin, but me! Yes me. Because I have acoustic startle reflex. May be some of you might be laughing at me or questioning me over the claim of being bravest of the bunch, but believe me I know what the hell I deal with when I say ASR. Enough of my side story, I will tell you what happened next.

The moment I jumped out of the room, everyone followed the suit. I gathered my wit and entered again followed by rest. We stayed in there for about half an hour but nothing happened. Apart from one of my younger cousin, who actually was scared, felt cold and heard something. Looking at his condition we left the room and locked it again. Kept the keys back in place and didn’t utter a word about our expedition.

The guy returned in the evening instead of previous night. And we were eager to see if he notices something in room. He stayed the whole time out of it and after dinner retired to his room. We were watching him from the main gate to the main mansion.

Next day it was sunday, yet we woke up soon and gathered in the common verandah. Before elders could question us, we all ran from there towards the quarters and what we saw was unbelievable. The guy with his bed and bedding, was lying outside with the bed atop him. Rest of the men and their families had come out and surrounded him. He woke up and took all his belongings back in the room, came out shutting the door behind him. We asked him what had happened to which he shrugged his shoulders and told us that it was nothing new as every night someone threw him off his bed, only this time it’s out of the room with his bed. Then he went back to his work and we came back inside.

We didn’t say anything about our expedition and never spoke about this experience with anyone. Today, decades have passed but this is the second time I am mentioning this incident. Prior to this time I mentioned it to my hubby some two years ago, I think.

For now this is all. May be in next post I will share some other such experiences from my home and other places, that too if you like. Thank you for reading till end and if you didn’t then also for bearing with me.

My Escape

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Photo by Leonard Cotte

Thi is exactly the place I saw in my imagination when I was meditating. And since then I have made it my retreat. Whenever I am tensed or need to relax my mind; this is where I go, only one white peaceful two room place which I made in imagination is missing.

Cake making

It was her idea to bake a cake. But my heart didn’t agree to permit her to do so. She is so small, how could she accomplish such a nasty job.

But then I had to give up against her constant nagging to do a cake all by herself.

So, finally today she assembled everything needed for her cake. With so much enthusiasm and happy mood, she started her work, but two ingredients fell short. My heart broke thinking she might feel bad, but to my surprise in a very cool manner she asked for the substitutes. And I was a proud happy mommy to oblige.

The initial idea was to bake a chocolate cake, but as we were short of adequate amount of chocolate we made chocolate, vanilla and the icing was divided into two parts. One for the inner layer and the other for top layer.

The cake took 25 to 30 minutes to bake on the gas, till then I asked her to finish her lunch. But her excitement was so much that every now and then she wanted to check on its progress. Finally, when it was done her excitement was on top. While cutting the cake she told the family members that it’s her birthday, so, everyone should sing a birthday song for her which we did happily. And my heart swelled with love for the child, seeing her face glowing with pride of accomplishment.

Well, I didn’t mention her age.. she is in grade 4 and 8 years old.

Thanks for reading a proud mommy’s little girl’s beautiful accomplishment.

Thoughts on Sushant Singh’s suicide.

Sometimes the thought occurs ‘ what Sushant Singh Rajput did, requires a lot of courage. If..only if, I had that much guts.’ May be some will say, I am wrong in saying so but I know what it means to end your thriving life. How hard it is to bring yourself to the point where you leave everything behind and opt out of the present painful situation. May be some might not agree with me but for me it’s not a cowardly act to quit but a very tough and hard decision and an act of bravery. It includes to summon all your will power to give up your dreams, desires and hopes which not all can do. To leave behind everything you love and for which you were fighting till now to leave that behind, how can it be cowardly. I only wish if I had that gut power,that much courage. This pain of heart break, the loneliness and the darkness I hide in me and live with, drain tos out all that it takes to live so quitting is the best option. I want to question people who say quitting is cowardly act and living requires lot of strength and courage. How can it be so? Just try to quit once and see what requires courage. You will not be able to kill yourself that easily. Your mind will not let you do so to your body as our bodies are meant to survive, to safeguard themselves. Thus fighting and surviving is but natural thing. Quitting from life itself is  something you win over. So how can suicide be a cowardly act? It’s always been and always will be the act of bravery. Don’t say it’s running away from situation because you don’t know what hardships and pain or stress and pressure and heartbreak or fear a person might be going through. How surviving with it losing one is  correct when knowing the option in your hand and not taking it. Isn’t it wrong? For me it is. I already said leaving behind everything, everybody and all desires or dreams that matter you the most is not easy. It requires a lot of inner strength and a strong will power so you don’t weaken and change your mind to be in the same wrath. I have made my point clear or rather say kept forward my opinion, it’s upto you to react your way; but remember one thing, there is no wrong or right. This is the difference of perspective, what you opine and act is right in your view and what I opine and act is correct in my view. So, when both are correct how can be anyone wrong? As you or me, have no right to judge anyone. 

My thoughts and me.

Actually the childhood never leaves you. The body grows with time but the childhood looms back in there. The moment you close your eyes and let your thoughts unwind, woosh! It all comes rushing back, as if it all occured a moment ago.

Every memory, every incident, it all remains so fresh in your mind that you can tell the finest detail. You won’t believe, while writing this, there are so many memories playing in my mind – pushing one another so that they can show up. But you know what, I have to visit all of them by their first appearance in my thought.

The most I love are the ones which involve my parents. When I was a child and used to run to them for every problem, no matter how small or useless it was. I loved the moment when they embraced me. The caring blow from mother on my hurting knee, or a kiss from mother on my forehead which used to take of any pain immediately no matter where it hurt.

Fathers are always unsung heroes. But the love and care they shower, no one can compete. You come to know their love after they are gone and by then it’s too late to hug them or thank them. Though they do not require our thanks but love, yes love, respect and ofcourse the understanding that we do understand and value their fatherly love, no matter they speak or not but we see all that care and affection in their actions. You know fathers are not supposed to cry as they are the strongest of all, but when their child is hurt beyond imagination they are afraid. Sometimes not able to hide their pain and once in a lifetime moment you can see the tears in their eyes. YES! You heard it right, Tears. They too are humans and have feelings which most of them don’t know how to express, but then comes a time when they break down.

My Mental Health Crisis Kit

I know many of you must be familiar with what I am talking about but some of you might be wondering what this crisis kit is all about.

So for those who are not aware that I suffer with mental health issues I would like to tell that there were moments when I was totally lost and suicidal.

It is all due to my therapist and coping methods that I can now breathe. From here when I look back, I wonder how I managed to get out of that pitch darkness. Sometimes it really hard to believe that I can now control my thought process to an extent. Hough I have regular mood swings which do turn to full episodes of depression or anxiety. I have panic attacks too, during such episodes but before they can engulf me completely, my Crisis kit comes in handy. It is for these tools or items, that I can manage the crisis.

What I carry in my mental health crisis kit?

1. Phone
2. Earphones
3. Notebook
4. Pen, Pencil
5. Tab
6. Medicines
7. Books
8. Painting note book
9. Colors
10. Instant Coffee
11. Bestie’s contact Number
12. Photos of kids

In time of need these items play a vital role. Apart from these, I have two more things to deal with mental health crisis. That is outing, anywhere, even window shopping does the trick and the other thing is shower.