He walks beside me……..
I didn’t find my dad at home this time during my monthly visit to Malad. I looked everywhere for him but he wasn’t anywhere around. Where could he be? I thought to myself, and then it suddenly struck me. He lives where I do, in my city, in Noida. He walks beside me during my evening walk everyday. He waits at the park’s entrance and waves enthusiastically when he sees me approaching him. Every evening from eight to nine, is our special time. We discuss our day and whatever else is on our minds. He gives me tips on how to overcome the day to day problems and live a happy life.
His hand on my shoulder, pat on the back and his blessings make me happy and grateful for being alive and thankful for being his daughter. Dad encourages me to go the extra mile and never give up when I feel like throwing in the towel. He is there to support me and egg me on. I look forward to my evening walks and there hasn’t been a single day when he wasn’t there with me. He is the only constant in my life, from my birth and hopefully till my death. I know he will never leave me and go away because he loves me and is my most loyal and trusted dad-friend.
Although we communicate silently, sometimes I get so excited that I speak out loud and many a times, startle the people walking around. To them I am that Looney lady who talks to herself, but I don’t care a bit. Just because others can’t see him doesn’t mean he is not there. I see him, talk to him, feel his love, he lives in my heart and will always be there for me. I believe this fact and to hell with the world.
I love walking in the rain and the other day we both got thoroughly drenched while walking. We laughed a lot but completed our 30 rounds of the park. He loves the outdoors and bids me goodbye at the park’s gate, promising to be back the next day.
I didn’t want to hurt my family members’ feelings by informing them that dad no longer lives in Malad but has shifted to Noida, to be with me. Maybe because he knew I needed his support more than the others did? Or maybe because he loves me the most. After all I am my daddy’s favourite girl.
If you really want something, you can get it. You just have to wish for it with all you got. My wish has come true; my dad is always with me.
Monday, August 9, 2010
My Laptop has character
My Laptop has character
It’s battered, bruised, chipped, cracked, marred, used and abused but it has a certain charm to it. It calls out to you and says, “Hey look at me, I am something special, so what if I am not perfect, there is perfection in my imperfect existence. I have lived a full and rich life, seen things others haven’t, done some pretty wild things and been in some weird locales. I have been around and then some. I am a wanderer with his heart rooted in one place called “home.”
If only I had blood running through my veins, I would dip my pen in it and write my life story but since I have just some wires and a chip in me, I will tell you my story in the only way I can, by way of text. The crack that you see near the touch pad is due to the fact that Shloka had the habit of keeping me on 24/7, 365 days a year. She never slept and never let me sleep either. She kept me up from morning to night and then again from night to morning. She ran on coffee and made me run on electricity.
My charger tanked and gave up half way through the first year of our association of 3 years. The motherboard had heated up and ignited and burnt making a crack appear on my being, my inner turmoil was exposed to the cruel eyes of the indifferent world. Each and every scratch on my body has an interesting story to tell. Now I am as good as a desktop. I can’t move around like my siblings, I have to be rooted to a spot or move around only as far as the wire lets me; I am a prisoner of my own chord and not accord. The charger is always plugged in from start to shut down, have no life without it.
I have played songs for her, millions of songs, sad, happy, and angry and some romantic ones in between the angry and happy ones. But mostly loud, rock n roll ones, she loves music and I have fallen in love with it too. Another thing she likes is playing online games with her friends. I have stayed up playing games, competing with her friends for 4 straight days. She is a piece of work, and I have been her side kick for 3 years. We make a good team. I love her energy and enthusiasm. She rocks and so do I.
Then there are her projects and assignments, the actual reason her father bought me and let her keep me. The research, downloading, printing, reprinting has driven me mad but I have become an amateur lawyer because of her. Thanks to Shloka now I know all about family law, criminal law, constitution and the various sections, the articles, the works.
She used to take me to some crazy places, the library I could deal with but the football field, the strawberry field’s rock band festival, the ice cream shop,
We made a good team, like Starsky and Hutch, Turner and Hooch. I battle scarred and she the same, both valiantly charging ahead in life, against all odds, unafraid, passionate about life and its discoveries. Looking forward to another day in the sun or rain. Unafraid, enthusiastic and happy to be alive, living every moment, enjoying it and appreciating the ironies of life.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Pay it forward
PAY IT FORWARD
North India is famous for it's cycle rickshaws, the Poor man's ride. On my husband's voluntary retirement from his job, we shifted to Noida and these three wheelers fascinated me. Since I am steering wheel challanged, These Rickshaws were a godsend for me. All of a sudden I was mobile. Whether it was a trip to Atta Market or to Indira Market, cycle rick was the way to go.P.T.A at my son's Delhi Public School or a trip to my dentist. I was on the move and boy did I feel independent and free.
My dear husband is more farsighted and wiser than me. He used to caution me against these ricks. I used to make fun of him and call him a snob. Once I persuaded him to go to The Great India Place Mall with me by cyclerickshaw. He was apprehensive and on the edge all the way and with good reason too. I learnt this lesson the hard way. He hired a driver for me. Life became easier and fun but as they say all good things come to an end. One fine day our driver had to go to his village as his mom was unwell. She had been diagnosed with cancer.
Now that I knew about the proximity of all the Malls and markets to my place, I
Wanted to visit them, driver or no driver. This is where the cycle rickshaws came into the picture. On one such ride to my dentist, a mere ten-minute ride from my house, my husband’s prediction came true. While negotiating a curve, the cycle rickshaw puller lost control of the vehicle and it toppled over to the side.
One minute I was enjoying the cool evening breeze of November and the next minute I was struggling to hold on to the side bar of the rickshaw to prevent myself from falling onto the road. Alas I was unable to anything to save myself. The right wheels went up in the air as if in slow motion. I tried to save my head and managed to land on my left elbow. Boy was it painful. The landing was soft but the entire iron frame of the rickshaw landed on my left ankle joint and almost crushed it. I remember screaming like a mad woman,” Lift the rickshaw, my foot is hurting, lift it up."
I had always hated coming to settle down in Noida as I am a true bombayite, Born and brought up in Bombay. I had lived the first 28 years of my wonderful life in this majestic city and no other place was good enough for dear old me or so I used to think until now. Within moments of my fall, I was surrounded by a number of good Samaritans. Since this was my first accident, I was in a state of utter confusion and shock. Some good men lifted the rickshaw from on top of my foot and a lady helped me pull my foot out from under it. After that I was lost. I kept on saying"Oh God'Oh no, Oh God".
Someone picked up my handbag and gave it to me. One lady asked me where I lived, I was at a loss for words, and the pain was killing me. I remembered that my brother in law is a doctor. I informed the people around me and this kind lady took my phone and dialled the number for me. Meanwhile a car was passing by and the two young men in it stopped to help. One of them came and offered to take me to the nearest hospital. I saw a lot of water near my foot and asked one lady, where has all this water come from?” She replied that it was the blood seeping out of my wounded foot. When I looked at my foot, felt lightheaded.the sight of blood does this to me and to think that my Dad had wanted me to become a doctor.
Anyway, all the wonderful, helpful people who had gathered there helped me into the car. I am a clean freak, according to my kids, true to my nature, I told the young man, whose car I was getting into,” your car will get dirty”. He said, never mind. How sweet is that! God bless him and his family. He picked up my bloody sandal and put it in the car. I am so embarrassed by my behaviour, on the way to the hospital. I couldn’t stop crying, partly due to the pain and partly due to the shock. I remember them telling me not to cry and that we were almost there. I spoke to my sister in law, who is also a doctor. She called up her husband and we all reached the hospital at the same time.
She told me not to panic and surprisingly enough I didn’t. A wheel chair was brought and I was wheeled efficiently into the minor O.T.The young man again picked my sandal and gave it to me. I didn't want to leave without knowing their names so I asked them to give me their phone number. Their names are Arjun and Shourya.When they said goodbye to me I said God bless you, and I meant it from the bottom of my heart. Those two and all the others, who helped me on that fateful day, restored my faith in humanity and redeemed Noida in my eyes. I made a promise to myself that I will also try and be of help and service to my fellow beings, like all these people had helped me. My father had a beautiful quote framed and put on the wall in our house, it read like this,” I shall pass through this way but once, So if I can be of any help or service to my fellow beings, let me not neglect it, for I shall not pass through this way again”. Amen.
Luckily there was no fracture, only cuts and bruises. I was administered a painkiller injection and tetanus injection, bandaged and sent home. Since my husband was out of station and I didn’t want to worry him, I instructed my in laws not to tell him anything. My father is not keeping the best of health so I did not inform him too. But I wanted to talk to someone who loved me and cared about what happened to me, so I called up my firebrand daughter, Shloka.I call her "Shola". She is studying in Bangalore. After telling her the whole story. I told her to keep it to herself. Maybe I was selfish to burden her with this secret but I knew she would come through. She is my tough softie, my pride and joy and my strength.
P.S. I have still not called up my saviours as I am embarrassed by my behaviour that day. I kept on crying and calling out to my mum,"Mummy"."I don't want to go to the hospital”, In Fact I remember saying something to the effect,” If I pass out on the way to the hospital, Please tell the doctor that my blood group is B rh _ive". How can I ring them up and behave like a forty four year old, when that day I behaved like a baby.
I will call them up because I am sure they must be wondering about what happened to the crazy , hysterical lady with the negative blood group.
SULEKHA
North India is famous for it's cycle rickshaws, the Poor man's ride. On my husband's voluntary retirement from his job, we shifted to Noida and these three wheelers fascinated me. Since I am steering wheel challanged, These Rickshaws were a godsend for me. All of a sudden I was mobile. Whether it was a trip to Atta Market or to Indira Market, cycle rick was the way to go.P.T.A at my son's Delhi Public School or a trip to my dentist. I was on the move and boy did I feel independent and free.
My dear husband is more farsighted and wiser than me. He used to caution me against these ricks. I used to make fun of him and call him a snob. Once I persuaded him to go to The Great India Place Mall with me by cyclerickshaw. He was apprehensive and on the edge all the way and with good reason too. I learnt this lesson the hard way. He hired a driver for me. Life became easier and fun but as they say all good things come to an end. One fine day our driver had to go to his village as his mom was unwell. She had been diagnosed with cancer.
Now that I knew about the proximity of all the Malls and markets to my place, I
Wanted to visit them, driver or no driver. This is where the cycle rickshaws came into the picture. On one such ride to my dentist, a mere ten-minute ride from my house, my husband’s prediction came true. While negotiating a curve, the cycle rickshaw puller lost control of the vehicle and it toppled over to the side.
One minute I was enjoying the cool evening breeze of November and the next minute I was struggling to hold on to the side bar of the rickshaw to prevent myself from falling onto the road. Alas I was unable to anything to save myself. The right wheels went up in the air as if in slow motion. I tried to save my head and managed to land on my left elbow. Boy was it painful. The landing was soft but the entire iron frame of the rickshaw landed on my left ankle joint and almost crushed it. I remember screaming like a mad woman,” Lift the rickshaw, my foot is hurting, lift it up."
I had always hated coming to settle down in Noida as I am a true bombayite, Born and brought up in Bombay. I had lived the first 28 years of my wonderful life in this majestic city and no other place was good enough for dear old me or so I used to think until now. Within moments of my fall, I was surrounded by a number of good Samaritans. Since this was my first accident, I was in a state of utter confusion and shock. Some good men lifted the rickshaw from on top of my foot and a lady helped me pull my foot out from under it. After that I was lost. I kept on saying"Oh God'Oh no, Oh God".
Someone picked up my handbag and gave it to me. One lady asked me where I lived, I was at a loss for words, and the pain was killing me. I remembered that my brother in law is a doctor. I informed the people around me and this kind lady took my phone and dialled the number for me. Meanwhile a car was passing by and the two young men in it stopped to help. One of them came and offered to take me to the nearest hospital. I saw a lot of water near my foot and asked one lady, where has all this water come from?” She replied that it was the blood seeping out of my wounded foot. When I looked at my foot, felt lightheaded.the sight of blood does this to me and to think that my Dad had wanted me to become a doctor.
Anyway, all the wonderful, helpful people who had gathered there helped me into the car. I am a clean freak, according to my kids, true to my nature, I told the young man, whose car I was getting into,” your car will get dirty”. He said, never mind. How sweet is that! God bless him and his family. He picked up my bloody sandal and put it in the car. I am so embarrassed by my behaviour, on the way to the hospital. I couldn’t stop crying, partly due to the pain and partly due to the shock. I remember them telling me not to cry and that we were almost there. I spoke to my sister in law, who is also a doctor. She called up her husband and we all reached the hospital at the same time.
She told me not to panic and surprisingly enough I didn’t. A wheel chair was brought and I was wheeled efficiently into the minor O.T.The young man again picked my sandal and gave it to me. I didn't want to leave without knowing their names so I asked them to give me their phone number. Their names are Arjun and Shourya.When they said goodbye to me I said God bless you, and I meant it from the bottom of my heart. Those two and all the others, who helped me on that fateful day, restored my faith in humanity and redeemed Noida in my eyes. I made a promise to myself that I will also try and be of help and service to my fellow beings, like all these people had helped me. My father had a beautiful quote framed and put on the wall in our house, it read like this,” I shall pass through this way but once, So if I can be of any help or service to my fellow beings, let me not neglect it, for I shall not pass through this way again”. Amen.
Luckily there was no fracture, only cuts and bruises. I was administered a painkiller injection and tetanus injection, bandaged and sent home. Since my husband was out of station and I didn’t want to worry him, I instructed my in laws not to tell him anything. My father is not keeping the best of health so I did not inform him too. But I wanted to talk to someone who loved me and cared about what happened to me, so I called up my firebrand daughter, Shloka.I call her "Shola". She is studying in Bangalore. After telling her the whole story. I told her to keep it to herself. Maybe I was selfish to burden her with this secret but I knew she would come through. She is my tough softie, my pride and joy and my strength.
P.S. I have still not called up my saviours as I am embarrassed by my behaviour that day. I kept on crying and calling out to my mum,"Mummy"."I don't want to go to the hospital”, In Fact I remember saying something to the effect,” If I pass out on the way to the hospital, Please tell the doctor that my blood group is B rh _ive". How can I ring them up and behave like a forty four year old, when that day I behaved like a baby.
I will call them up because I am sure they must be wondering about what happened to the crazy , hysterical lady with the negative blood group.
SULEKHA
Saturday, June 19, 2010
An ODE to Daddy dearest
Hey Grumpy, Why the long face?
Just coz I haven't wished you,
a happy father's day.
The day has just begun,
wanted to do something special,
hence the delay in calling you.
" You are my emotional awning,
keeping the negative downpour
off my being.
my marquee, my shield,
keeping all ills at bay.
Your effervescence, your indomitable will,
and beneficience has ,
brightened many a lives including mine.
DAD, you are debonair,chivalrous,
diligent,a true demigod.
wish I can be half as good as you.
will definitely try to emulate you
and all you stood for,
Poonam, naughty and Pintu join me,
and together we say,
we are lucky to have you as our father,
and we wish and pray this bond is forever.
come what may.
So what if you are not around,
I see you in the rays of the morning Sun,
the twinkling of stars,
the smile of gratitude on those faces,
which remember you with great love,
and wish you peace, where ever you are.
Happy Father's day, DAD,
proud to be your daughter.
will raise a toast to your health
and maybe get a little drunk.
Miss your warm hugs and gentle smile,
Cheers Dad, you taught us well,
haven't gone to pieces we are strong,
a slip here n there is permissible.
afterall your absence from our lives,
has left a huge void.
your love will keep us happy,
any negativity we will avoid.
Our bond will never break,
love you always and forever
my dearest darling father,
you are the best Dad,
any kid could have ever had.
Your everloving daughter
Lucks
Just coz I haven't wished you,
a happy father's day.
The day has just begun,
wanted to do something special,
hence the delay in calling you.
" You are my emotional awning,
keeping the negative downpour
off my being.
my marquee, my shield,
keeping all ills at bay.
Your effervescence, your indomitable will,
and beneficience has ,
brightened many a lives including mine.
DAD, you are debonair,chivalrous,
diligent,a true demigod.
wish I can be half as good as you.
will definitely try to emulate you
and all you stood for,
Poonam, naughty and Pintu join me,
and together we say,
we are lucky to have you as our father,
and we wish and pray this bond is forever.
come what may.
So what if you are not around,
I see you in the rays of the morning Sun,
the twinkling of stars,
the smile of gratitude on those faces,
which remember you with great love,
and wish you peace, where ever you are.
Happy Father's day, DAD,
proud to be your daughter.
will raise a toast to your health
and maybe get a little drunk.
Miss your warm hugs and gentle smile,
Cheers Dad, you taught us well,
haven't gone to pieces we are strong,
a slip here n there is permissible.
afterall your absence from our lives,
has left a huge void.
your love will keep us happy,
any negativity we will avoid.
Our bond will never break,
love you always and forever
my dearest darling father,
you are the best Dad,
any kid could have ever had.
Your everloving daughter
Lucks
Friday, June 11, 2010
The Path well trodden
Every evening, come 8.30 and I am off to the park for my hourly evening/nightly walk. One measely hour out of 24 hrs in a day dedicated to my quest for remaining healthy.As I walk around the perimeter of the kidney shaped park, I see all kinds of things and people doing these things. It takes 388 steps to go around the park once. People of all ages, shapes and size frequent my park everyday. I like to address the park as mine because I have an affinity towards it , I'll explain as we go along for a brisk walk.
The paved path is a valiant hero,It's trials and tribulations never end. Not a single inch of it is left untraveled.It's pounded upon,trodded,stamped, bruised,batterred and abused in various ways everyday but it never complains. I see young couples strolling hand in hand, senior citizens amble along discussing their daughter in laws and grand children.The serious joggers pound the path mercilessly and later sprawl on the lawn, encircled by the path, to cool down. The society romeos strut in groups of twos or threes and ogle girls in the park.
It takes me three minutes to go around the path once and while doing so I overtake an overweight, salwar -kurta clad auntyji, with her dupatta tied in a knot at her waist.She waddles as though weighed down by all the cares in the world. Another peculiar sight is an undernourished, tiny middle-aged lady,wearing a nightgown and sneakers .Black nightie and white sneakers, marching along like Jhansi ki rani.
A thin young man in his twenties, strolls on the path , with the cell phone glued to his ear, everyday. I swear his elbow is bent at an angle due to holding up the phone for long durations. Two girls walk briskly, discussing their collegues at the office, and stop mid-conversation to attend to calls or text message their friends.
As I walk around in circles for sixty minutes, I see all these sights and more. The abuse the path goes through everyday,every hour,24/7, all year round and I wonder ,what must it be thinking? Why do these people walk, run, jump,on my chest? Why don't they leave me alone? Why do they overeat and then try to lose all that extra weight by torturing me?
As I hear the path's lamentations, I feel sorry for it and try to lessen it's pain by stepping gently on it. as I walk gingerly and apologetically, I wonder at it's ability to withstand pain and his tenacity to go on.I salute it's spirit and resilience. It is indeed "The Path Well Trodden".
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Lucks Looksy
Lucks looksy
These, and a myriad of other terms of endearments were often used by my dad to address me, his daughter-Lucky.How I had loved hearing these sweet nicknames my father used to make up . when he was ecstatic on meeting me, after a long separation, he would call me looksy my sweet sweet daughter and when he was just plain happy to see me it would be lucks, never Lucky and never ever Sulekha. The first thing I notice about anyone I meet is their eyes, the
windows to the soul.No smile is complete untill it begins from the lips and ends at the eyes. My dad's eyes used to light up while smiling.I could see the shadow of his soul in them, specially when he used to greet me at the airport, a bouquet of the loveliest flowers in one hand and his heart overflowing with paternal love.Proud of his daughter, who he thought could do no wrong in life.The twinkling eyes are not around anymore and I sit and try to conjure up images of his smiling those special smiles. Always singing my praises and encouraging me to do something with my life.His one pet peeve was that I wasn't independent. He always used to tell me to take up a job and stand on my own feet.Don't waste your education, be your own person.I tried as best as I could.
The all encompassing, pure and unconditional love used to surround me like a warm fuzzy blanket, keeping out the chills and spills of the negative people.I am shivering in the cold for the past two months, missing the blankey.But I needn't do that because he is with me every step of the way. His love surrounds me, his affections embraces me and his spirit lives in my being.My dad was an avid reader and an excellent orator, he was so fond of being the focus of attention that many a times , the microphone had to be forcily taken away from him during a function. He never read from a pre written speech, it was always impromptu and straight from the heart. No wonder everybody always gave him a standing ovation and the deafening applause reverberates long after he has gone away.
These, and a myriad of other terms of endearments were often used by my dad to address me, his daughter-Lucky.How I had loved hearing these sweet nicknames my father used to make up . when he was ecstatic on meeting me, after a long separation, he would call me looksy my sweet sweet daughter and when he was just plain happy to see me it would be lucks, never Lucky and never ever Sulekha. The first thing I notice about anyone I meet is their eyes, the
windows to the soul.No smile is complete untill it begins from the lips and ends at the eyes. My dad's eyes used to light up while smiling.I could see the shadow of his soul in them, specially when he used to greet me at the airport, a bouquet of the loveliest flowers in one hand and his heart overflowing with paternal love.Proud of his daughter, who he thought could do no wrong in life.The twinkling eyes are not around anymore and I sit and try to conjure up images of his smiling those special smiles. Always singing my praises and encouraging me to do something with my life.His one pet peeve was that I wasn't independent. He always used to tell me to take up a job and stand on my own feet.Don't waste your education, be your own person.I tried as best as I could.
The all encompassing, pure and unconditional love used to surround me like a warm fuzzy blanket, keeping out the chills and spills of the negative people.I am shivering in the cold for the past two months, missing the blankey.But I needn't do that because he is with me every step of the way. His love surrounds me, his affections embraces me and his spirit lives in my being.My dad was an avid reader and an excellent orator, he was so fond of being the focus of attention that many a times , the microphone had to be forcily taken away from him during a function. He never read from a pre written speech, it was always impromptu and straight from the heart. No wonder everybody always gave him a standing ovation and the deafening applause reverberates long after he has gone away.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Lingering Scent
Clothes have a tendency to retain the perfume even after they are washed.The gown you had worn to the dance reeks of your Hugo Boss woman perfume, post wash.My son's school uniforms scream Axe doespray.My Dad's shirt has his smell,the woodsy,brylcreemy smell.I had bought a shirt for him on Nov 17th 2009,from Cottons in bandra.At that moment I hadn't known that it was going to be my last gift to him.It's a white shirt with little blue flowers,Dad had loved the shirt.On 8thJan2010,he had wanted to wear this shirt but it had gone for a wash and he couldn't wear it.I think he knew that he was leaving this world and going.My sister-in-law,Jyoti tells me that he had been very upset when he was told that the shirt was still wet.My nieces,Kavya and Diya had been playing Bob Marley's song,"Don't Worry Be Happy",On the computer and Dad was enjoying this number.All those who were lucky enough to be near him in the end, share their memories with me.I just listen and try to remember my last memory of him.
It was on Nov 22nd 2009,that I had last seen him smiling and wishing me good luck.I had been on my way to the airport to go to Delhi.I remember him giving me a sweet hug,he had lost a lot of weight but his hugs were still the same.I don't really remember whether he had come down to the car or had said goodbye from the 3rd floor.Had I known that it was the last time I would be meeting him,I would have told him that I loved him a lot and that he was my number one Man.The only person in this world who I could depend on,who would do anything for me,anything.I had so much faith in him,to get me the Moon even,had I asked for it.He was my own fairy Godfather.Now I am an ordinary person without any special powers,since he has gone away.
I have his shirt with me though and it smells of my Dad's brylcreem and deo and his special daddy smell.I can feel that he is close when I hold it in my hands.How do I bottle this fragrance?How do I keep it forever?
It was on Nov 22nd 2009,that I had last seen him smiling and wishing me good luck.I had been on my way to the airport to go to Delhi.I remember him giving me a sweet hug,he had lost a lot of weight but his hugs were still the same.I don't really remember whether he had come down to the car or had said goodbye from the 3rd floor.Had I known that it was the last time I would be meeting him,I would have told him that I loved him a lot and that he was my number one Man.The only person in this world who I could depend on,who would do anything for me,anything.I had so much faith in him,to get me the Moon even,had I asked for it.He was my own fairy Godfather.Now I am an ordinary person without any special powers,since he has gone away.
I have his shirt with me though and it smells of my Dad's brylcreem and deo and his special daddy smell.I can feel that he is close when I hold it in my hands.How do I bottle this fragrance?How do I keep it forever?
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