CELEBRATIONS

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 33; the thirty-third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is 'Celebrations'

CELEBRATION 

                                                                                                                   - i_duft

THE PUNCHING MACHINE IN THE OFFICE DISPLAYED 7.35pm. EVERY FOLLOWING SECOND BLICKERING AS IF THE WATCH WAS WAITING FOR ME TO LEAVE SINCE THE REST OF THE STAFF HAD ALREADY LEFT FOR THE DAY, LEAVING ME AS A DISRUPTION IN THE CLOCK’S RESTING TIME.

FOR THE PAST TWO DAYS THERE WAS A WHOLE LOT OF HUBBUB AMONGST THE LADIES, EACH WANTING TO KNOW ABOUT THE OTHERS’ PLANS FOR THE DAY, THE SHOPPING THEY HAD DONE, THE FOGGY NIGHTS AND MOST OF ALL THE GIFTS THAT THEY ARE GOING TO GET FROM THEIR RESPECTIVE SPOUSES.  WHEREVER YOU GO, WHOEVER YOU PASS BY ON A ROAD AND WHICHEVER CHANNEL/FREQUENCY YOU SET ON YOUR T.V. SET OR RADIO RESP., IT WAS THE SAME TUNE THAT THE WHOLE NATION WAS SINGING.

MARRIED MEN HAD LEFT EARLY TO BE WITH THEIR WIVES, AND WOMEN WERE BY AND LARGE ON AN OFF TO GET DECKED UP FOR THE FAST AND THE FOLLOWING CEREMONIES DURING THE DAY. THE OCCASION… WELL, KARVACHAUTH!

 FOR THE REST IT WAS A DAY OF CELEBRATION; FOR ME A DAY FILLED WITH SORE MEMORIES.

 DHARMENDER BHAIYA’S BOISTEROUS VOICE ALARMED MY ALREADY DISARRAYED MIND TERRAIN AS HE BROODED,

“CHALO RUCCHI MADDUM.  GHAR NI JANA.   APKI MUMMY NE BI TO PHAST RAKKHA HOGA NA AAJJ.   UNKI MADDAD KARNI HOGGI.   CHALO CHALO JALDI KARO PHIR CENTRE BANDD KARUN AUR MAIN BI JAUN”                   

I HAD SPENT THE WHOLE DAY TRYING TO VEIL MY UNEASINESS, CAUSED BY THEIR UNTHOUGHTFUL BANTERS ON MAN, WIFE & FASTING, WITH A FAKE SMILE. BUT THIS LAST REMARK TOOK IT ALL OUT OF ME!

                                                               

***

“Ma you’re 50 now! Look at your health first. Why can’t you make an exception this time by not observing the fast and giving priority to your wellbeing? Have you forgotten the acidity and then the anxiety attack you suffered the last time that you are again taking the chances? And then you even promised that only if your body allows you’ll fast. Are you even listening to me or am I jabbering all this to myself!”

“Wo pink wali chudiyaan kahan rakh di?! Iss ghar me kabi kuch nahi milta! Zara neeche dekh to. Aa gyi saari ladies ground me? Hey bhagwan! Wo puja ki thali kahan rakhi ab maine? Abi to yahin thi!!”

Her *pink churiyan* and *puja ki thali* concerns were more substantial to her at this particular moment than her health!! It annoyed me and I considered taking up my appeal to the high court; in this case, my father.

9 pm papa returned home and I welcomed him with my ranting about how his much-loved better-half was avoiding her physical condition by keeping herself dehydrated and famished just to abide by the patriarchal norms of the society. But to my surprise I just got a smug smile in return. My father is of the opinion that theirs’ is a more physically strong generation as compared to ours allergic-to-all generation. And so he straight away dismissed my appeal as being overrated.

Just then the children rushed downstairs bubbling, “chand nikal gaya! Chand nikal gyaa!” to their starving mommies. I quickly went to the kitchen to gather all the puja accessories for maa to make a move to the terrace so that she could finally end her hunger strike and gain her normal state of being back. Collecting all the things I called her. Gradually she walked out of her room but with a considerably feeble gait and a pale face. She’d been lying in her bedroom since the time she came back from the Karvachauth puja. Assuming that she might be having little weakness, I let her rest undisturbed. She had merely taken five steps towards me and I heard a thud on the floor. There she was; collapsed within seconds; lifeless in a jiffy.

                                                                                                ***

THE DAY LEFT A PERMANENT DENT IN MY MEMORY AND EACH PASSING YEAR ONLY INTENSIFIES ITS HURT. CELEBRATIONS ARE NO LONGER AWAITED; THEY ARE AN INCESSANT STING IN THE HEART.

 Maa, WHY DIDN’T YOU LISTEN TO ME THAT DAY? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO LEAVE US JUST LIKE THAT?! IT’S SO EMPTY WITHOUT YOU…

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: MEGHA MALIK, Participation Count: 02

Queer but true!

• This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 32; the thirty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is 'An Untold Story'

Here is an untold story of the time when the universe was recently created and so were all the planets, the stars, the galaxies, and the creatures. God had adorned the Earth with Mother Nature which further aided the origin of a variety of creatures, from the pettiest to the enormous. Human was one of the creation & so was the tiny mosquito. Since everyone was new on earth, none was familiar to the other.

It so happened one sunny day that a man, who was among the first ones on the earth, retired to his cave for a quick day’s nap. While he was resting, there came a mosquito in his cave. Now he came in search of food, which he gets by sucking the blood of us humans; but that day something else happened. That day the mosquito by complete chance happened to notice something which he had never ever seen. He saw that a beam of light was falling on the man’s face and there he found a thing very attractive. Its maze like structure and tender surface with a tiny red mole just like a beauty spot, was irresistible to him. He was so awestruck by it that he started hovering around it, admiring it from every possible angle.

While doing so, his buzzing made the object of his affection vexed and she was awakened. When she saw the petty creature wandering like a coxcomb, staring at her incessantly and creating a noise, she said in an irksome tone, ”what’s with you boy? Can’t you see that i am asleep that you are creating such miserable sounds?”

“Who are you, O heavenly creature?” said the lovelorn mosquito, completely unaffected by the former’s tone.

“I am called the ear” she replied with the utmost vanity and said to him, “but who are you?”

“They call me mosquito” he said in extreme modesty.

“Well, whoever you are I don’t care! What I know is that you are annoying me by not letting me sleep. So you better leave” said she with the highest conceit.

“Oh, I sincerely apologize for that but I am helpless, you see. Since the time I've seen you, I can’t take my eyes off you. My heart started singing and I couldn't stop the words of praise from coming out of my mouth!” said the lover.

"How dare you … you insignificant fellow! Just go away from here at this very instant else I’ll order my fellow hand and he’ll drive you away, you lousy thing! "said the ear; the anger mounting her now.

The mosquito was hurt a bit but his feelings never budged. Thinking that his love will melt her beloved’s harsh feelings, he stood there smiling. The ear, after seeing this got all the more fiery and immediately ordered the hand to wave off the mosquito. The hand followed what she said and then came the first blow. Fortunately the mosquito escaped this one and was still smiling and saying “I love you, my ear and I will always do so no matter what you do.”

He again took a chance and went near the ear to see her, and the hand seeing this didn't miss the opportunity and there he gave the second hit. But the mosquito got second time lucky and again said,”I know your anger is only momentary and you’ll definitely fall for me, and then I’ll be waiting for you with my arms open and my heart beating only for you”

While saying this last line, the mosquito didn't realize and he came near the ear, and this time the hand didn't miss the target. The poor mosquito received a hard blow and fell badly on the Earth. The ear smiled victoriously on her lover’s defeat. The mosquito, in his last few breaths, took the vow that she’ll not be retrieved from his love so easily. In fact, he’ll keep coming back till the time the ear confesses her love for the mosquito; and till then he’ll keep humming to her his infinite love for her!

Though the mosquito died then, his love for the ear still continues.

Still in the midsummer nights, we find a mosquito humming his love song for the ear and still there is a hand waving him off.

But the trend has altered a bit.  Just like the young gals now a days, even the ear has 10-15 mosquitoes hovering around her, all trying their luck at the same time …lolz

                                                                                       -i_duft 

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: MEGHA MALIK, Participation Count: 1

Barren memories in a barren land…

I had a struggle, a struggle with self last night

Had another sleepless night

A baggage of memories, of him, that I was carrying

A burden of questions, unanswered

Some raised eyebrows and some inquisitive expressions

Those deep black pupils, evil

Those hairy white fingers, cold

His words, deceiving

  His silence, misleading

DISGUST is what the coward oozed

Excuses he made maintaining the cool

I let him free but tied myself

Became Orpheus, got stuck in Hell

Now each day passes snapping that deal

No amount of indulgence makes me heal

Last night I put all of them, all his reminiscences in a leather bag

I threw it in a dig, covered it with the soil

Buried it in the ground; no more toil.

Beheld it as the time passed by

Nothing grew out of it, not even a plant

Barren memories in a barren land                                                                            -i_duft

My Purpose

Creating... is NOT a piece of cinch! I wonder how God did it. Man! It requires passion, ideas, source, inspiration, endurance, and definitely time. I have read about the great Shakespeare. How did he manage to write such a colossal range of texts, which, by the way, are not just texts but holy books. He certainly had a craving for creating lives out of his characters. Creation, for them (the writers), was a pure phenomenon, just like music is to Lata Mangeshkar. I’ve heard that she starts her day with prayers and ‘riyaz’; nothing is more important to her than her music. She doesn’t sing to please others; in fact, she knows that each art form is purgatory and so she does her bit by making people let loose of all their anxieties and just relax with the help of her voice. That is her ‘Purpose’; her life’s calling; something that makes her happy. It’s like meditation.

That is what I intend to do too with my writing.