Tuesday, May 22, 2012

One minute writer-Doing

Today's writing prompt- What are you doing?

I am dreaming, waking up and making my dreams come true.
 

One Minute Writer- Left

(Write about a time you left a group or a time you stayed while others left)

A theater group where I grew
Many left while I stayed back
Now I am inactive and new faces I see each time I visit
From being a senior now I am only a guest
Or maybe this is just how I see things
For I might not know what is happening there
I still do my bit from wherever and however I can

Saturday, May 19, 2012

An Unthought Of


Words written by another has awakened this within me. Let me not concentrate on it. Let me not shoo it away.

Why should I write for you to understand? Shouldn’t I write as if I were dancing? Why don’t I dance anymore?

Those words have nudged this little person within me. They have nudged her beauty, her free flow, her swiftness, her ease, her charm, her calm, her stupor, her softness. I can see her now. Should I say hello? Should I greet her? Will she smile at me or just stare blankly at me? Will I find accusation in her eyes?

What is this I smell? Ego? Is that what it is (of mine) that won’t let her dance?

I wish she would smile. This blog is only for me. I am sorry, or may be not if you don’t understand. I surely do owe this dance to her.

I can see rain through her window. Maybe if it was open, the breeze would enter. Should I go open it? Will that make the music louder to her?

I can see her on her feet, they have begun to sway. What she wears is nothing extraordinary but only a soft pink long garment. Her hair, she always liked to leave open. She is not as fresh or happy as she looked when we gradually started breaking apart but I think this dance will help. I think I see hope on her face now. Her window, she has sprung open and let the breeze flirt with her. Oh, she always adored that. It has been ages since these two danced together. Tonight, I won’t stop them. Not for the fear of anything or anyone, not even you.

The stars have missed her too. They are twinkling brighter than an hour ago. The trees are swaying too. It is a masterpiece. It is the perfect stage, her own perfect stage.

There she goes into her stupor. I hope she continues even as I intrude into her thoughts and I do hope I won’t stop her even as you intrude into mine.

Oh, I know how she has missed this freedom. There I see those lovely feelings and thoughts encircling her and how they accompany her, watch her.

You can’t see this dance, may be you can attempt at describing it but I would suggest you don’t. You can only feel it. Just feel it. I can feel it.

And not for the love of fame or the need of money, neither for the need of acceptance or the fear of criticism must I forget her. 

Sunday, May 13, 2012

My laddoo, my chotu bum and my everything nice and cute

My niece Mishti was born on march 3, 2012 at 21 hours, 43 minutes and 52 seconds. Since that moment, I have been a part time mother with the only disability of feeding her.


Today is the first night that I won’t sleep by her because she is visiting her paternal grandparents.
I remember feeling strong desires of having a little brother/sister to take care of when I was hardly five. I vividly remember having decided my daughter’s name when I was 13. Of course, now I am open to more options.

I am not sure if it is Mishti’s innocent eyes or her curiosity of the world around her or the fact that such a tiny person can even smile and laugh and utter syllables or just her pure presence that has filled our house with happiness that we have never known before as a family.


I had always been closest to my sister and Mishti has strengthened that bond to great lengths, somehow. My sister and I now converse and discuss our lives in spite of an age gap of eight years. My dad is finally smiling and laughing more frequently every day, after many, many years. My brother, well he is happy and away in Singapore but he sure did cry when she was born.

I am sure this is the case with arrival of babies in every house. A baby can make you feel real happiness and can easily calm your anger down too.

Since our mother is not with us, I am the only support to my sister. Our lives exclusively revolve around Mishti and depend on her bath, feeding and sleeping timings. Mishti loves to be taken for a walk. She has not learnt to walk yet but she keenly observes what she sees on the way. She is a friendly baby who will smile at you and respond to you if you talk nicely enough. She cries only and only when she needs something—mostly the reasons are ‘I am hungry’, ‘I am bored’, ‘I need a walk’ and ‘I am sleepy, put me to sleep’. You figure what she wants by knowing what she has had already and trying the remedy for each need one by one. I have never experience joy like this before in caring for someone, except for Shiva who is closely behind in the line.

I almost always imagine Mishti as a 3-year-old or a 5-year-old. I imagine what clothes we will make for her and what activities we will do with her. I am waiting to listen to all her stories from school and answer all her questions about this huge complicated world and life. I am waiting to see her apply her knowledge and sometimes present a wonder by explaining or reminding us the simple truths of life. I just can’t wait to see what in life will become her passion and I am all geared up to push her in that direction. I wonder if she will dance like I do, I wonder if she will love to cook like her parents, I wonder if she will paint all day long like I used to. Whatever it is that she will want to do we will never keep her out of touch with that. We want to make Mishti a confident, free person who will learn to take decisions and face the world without fear from the very start—something that at least my sister and I lacked for a long time.

Sometimes when I talk to my wonderful baby niece, I get a feeling that she knows it all—she knows everything we know and don’t know. Sometimes I feel she is patiently listening to us and asking herself “Why are these people talking so stupidly to me?” or telling us by her toothless smiles and laughs, “Haha, I know. I agree with you”.

As of now, my Mishti can perform a number of activities. She continually turns her head around and when something catches her attention, she stares at it. At this point, I think to myself that she is developing her philosophical side, even though it sounds stupid. She follows loud sounds and makes eye contact. She rubs her face, kicks her legs every waking minute, moves her hands and has recently started flexing her fingers.  She coos and gurgles in tones we are familiar with. She has successfully tossed herself to her sides and once to her stomach, too. She also produces explosive farts. It is hard to believe that a small person like her can produce such huge farts. She can cry, of course and she has also begun leaving her little pink tongue on the threshold of her tiny, pink lips. She is even blinking now and then. I think she recognizes her mother which is why her eyes follow her or just sit at where she sees her mother last. She must also recognize me and what my duties are because each time she needs a walk, she looks at me while her hands and legs get all restless.

That’s my little baby Mishti. There is so much more about her like how adorable she looks in frocks, how blissful it feels to hold her and hug her, how she smiles when we kiss her as she is asleep, how she likes to sleep on her side and how she unbelievably looks like a grown up in that posture, how she loves her super little bum to be rubbed and how she hates to wear a diaper.

Each time she comes back from her vaccination shot, watching her cry seems like the most impossible thing to do. And all we can think of is reducing her pain, just somehow.

Today she needs us. I know that as years go by, she will need us for lesser hours and lesser deals. Someday, she won’t need us except when the situation is out of control. All I know is we will bring her up to be a strong person and never hold her back because we love her so much and feel too attached and too protective to let her go see the world on her own. As much as I want to see her grow, it’s a shame that day by day she is moving away from being such an adorable little baby of ours.