For the progeny, nieces and nephews!

I recently heard a tale of horror.

A family goes to a beach resort. Their 21 years old boy, decides to go out with some friends. When he doesn’t arrive on time the father calls, and a friend picks up. Says he is asleep, not to worry he will come in on time for the flight back home. Come morning, again a friend picks up and says he is a bit unwell, will take the next flight home. The father leaves for hometown. Lands, calls once again and friend says, “ Sorry uncle, your son is dead!!”

Overdose? I don’t know!

Every body has a different physical and internal structure. The same dose, which relaxes your friend, could be lethal for you!

When I heard this I was shocked. But soon got over it and went to bed. The story shot through my head once more and I got up panicking. My kids were 24 hours away. Alone. Left to their own devices – with pot and molly taking acquaintances all around them.

My niece and nephew are at a vulnerable phase of life. The younger ones, are too cute for their own good!

I wanted to immediately, wrap them all up in cotton wool. Then – in a layer of bubble paper. And finally corset them in a blanket and dump them in my largest closet.

I want to keep them safe. Hidden and away from the forbidden.

Distanced from trauma. Safe from harm.

I don’t want their hearts breaking, or their legs for that matter.

I would like them cocooned and nestled, in a comforting loving atmosphere.

Fear should never touch them.


But that’s not possible. And that’s not what I really want!

I want broken legs and hearts. I want thorns in their feet and thorns by their side when they get out of the protective shadows of their parents. They need fears and scares. They need to be tempted and learn to resist it. They need to go hungry once in a while. They need to live.

They have to face life. With all it’s little jagged ends.

Fear should produce fight and not flight.

Sweat will build their personality, and scars – character.

Heartbreaks will make them softer and choosier.

Hunger will teach them to be frugal. It might even teach them to cook !!

Overcoming trauma will help strengthen them.

A broken leg will teach my babies a lesson.

Failures will beget success and arrogance will beget failure.

Pride will come before fall, and happiness after sadness.

Some temptations will be yielded to, while some will be rejected. Each choice will teach them something.

And while they go through their turmoil and triumphs, they need to know they have parents (and uncles and aunts) who will hold their hands as well as cheer for them.





The Trade.

My very well meaning, but utterly crazy batch mates, insisted I go beyond a blog! So here is a sample, of  a “Beyond the blog – plunge” – written a few years ago.

GO  L.V.G.A !!

The breeze was balmy and she sweat freely. But the sea always called her. Alone she would walk by the beach, the waves calming her tumultuous mind. The fishermen had gathered. She knew most of them by face. Every day at the same time she would walk past them and stand and watch their catch, some of the fish yet thrashing, side to side in their struggle to survive, wildly trying to breathe in an atmosphere which was stifling them. She would stand  and watch them, mesmerized by their need to survive. Wasn’t it easier to just give up and die?

There was an unusual excitement amongst them today. “What a catch! Kya maal aya hain haath mein!” they exclaimed. Indeed it was a catch. She was a catch! And she was caught, between the struggle for power and the union of two rich families. One day suddenly, without being asked, her life was changed. It was an exchange a mongering, a trade. And she had no say in the matter.

As she walked, her mind weaved, hitched and always stopped on him. The man she met on the beach, the man who was her life and the sweet breath of love. The man, who was now, walking towards her. The radiance and love from his face caught her straight in the guts. Even after five years of knowing each other the love grew and strengthened. He was tall dark and lean to her petit small build. But today she would perhaps, kill that radiance forever.

She told him, before he could even touch her. A smoker thinks he is immortal and cancer can never touch him. Lovers think their love is forever and the ending always happy. They always knew this could happen, but knowing does not diminish the pain. He held on to the intense longing to touch her, but there had to be a cut, a long viscious slice, made by the lethal blades of a family barter. Without a word, tears streaming down his face, he turned and walked away without a backward glance. She had killed his spirit without bleeding him.

She herself was bleeding from the inside. For a long time she stared at his bent back. She knew he weeped and his soul sobbed. But she could not cry. Her emotions were dead. She walked on, until she reached the shore and the waves tickled her feet. The sea had always answered her questions. This time her soul decided. She walked into the sea, waves lashing at her. Kept walking. Somewhere far behind she thought she heard shouts. But she kept walking till her beloved sea claimed her.

Around the same time, fishermen snagged a heavy object in their nets. “What a waste of a life” they said. “ Such a handsome man, so tall and lean”

She was right. It was easier to die than struggle forever.