Sunday, March 29, 2009

Pitter Patter

Its breathtakingly beautiful outside. Its been raining since Friday.

I have a very soothing relationship with the rain. My rendezvous with Rain started in my 5th grade. We had just moved form Jodhpur in Rajasthan to Shimla in Himachal. So right from the dessert and dry dust storms to lush green hills...what a contrast to get used to. I used to cycle to school in Jodhpur. School was a few kilometers away but I loved cycling. It was so liberating to be able to go to school without any supervision. My fathers Sepoy used to follow me with my brother on his cycle, almost every single day I would cycle far ahead and wait for them to catch up once reaching school. He would come home and complain to Dad every single day. Then we moved to the mountain where cycling was certainly not an option. It was packed away and put in some army godown till next posting.

It is here in the massive mountains I had my first experience of torrential rains. It would rain so hard that in spite of being dressed in gumboots and raincoats we used to reach school absolutely drenched. Water would fill up in the boots and we would be running with water in them. Making splotchy sounds. Then on reaching school, the kids would all huddle near the Angethi/fireplace and try to dry up. Wet hair, water in boots and the raincoats piled up in the corner. I can still feel the teacher wringing the water out of my two plaits.

Our school had tin roof. As soon as it would start to rain the sound of the beating rain on the roof would take over and drown the teachers voice. Many times the teachers would stop the class as one couldn't hear a word of what they were saying. I would just trance off. My mind would be wandering outside school. I would imagine me walking over the clouds. Sitting on the top of the rainbow and then I would just jump off...the flight off the rainbow was amazing...I had seen my dad do that so many times...seen him jump of the plane while Parachuting. It felt so easy. So right.

Rain in the hills also always meant that it would be cold and we would sit with hot glasses of chocolate milk around the fire place at home. Chatting nine to a dozen. My brother and I could hear the flying fox settle into her nest right next to our window. The wind would be blowing...some time it would be eerie and at times it would be so magical. Rain had a hypnotic quality to it.

I loved it best when it rained in the night. I always found the sound of the rain on our tin roof so soothing. It was better than any music one had ever heard. Raindrops have this magical quality. I would wake up and listen to it till it lulled me back to sleep. Rain left the earth so clean, washed up and ready to start another day. Next morning we would find a victim who would be standing under a low branch and all of us would jump and pull the branch and the water would fall like rain on the unaware victim.

Every time it rains, I almost always take some time off to connect with it. I need to feel one with it. I need to let it sooth my nerves. I need for the rain to wash away all the garbage. I need the rain to connect with my soul. I need for the rain to hypnotise me and talk to me in the language that only I understand. I need for it to connect me the girl in Shimla...

A few drops of the wet wet rain for the dry dry soul?!!

Saturday, March 28, 2009


I have heard that when a person goes the unfortunate misfortune of amputation, they continue to feel the lost part as if its still there. The part lost was there in their life for so long that the nerves still send the signal to the brain that that the lost part still exists. Its like the body has lost a part but the brain wont let go. Its still sending all the signals that the body part is still there. Then over the period of time pain sets in. The loss of limb is now a stark reality. Its gone. Forever. The body and mind both mourn the loss. Together.

Sometimes dying relations are like that loss of limb. The brain is still sending the right signals to the mind and heart. Its all there. Nothing has changed. Though the shift has taken place. Its happened. But the nerve endings still feel it. The acceptance of loss is not happening. Then slowly pain sets in. The pain is real. It lets you know that you are suffering. You are suffering the loss of emotions. Emotions that have been amputated, cut out of your life.

Amputation of emotions is a sad business. Its sad but happens to the best of us. Some go through it with childhood best friends who outgrow friendships, some go through it with their siblings unfortunately, some go through it at work where they have been too long, some go through it with their lovers where love doesn't actualise, some go through it with their life partners when things have gone so wrong...all in all every one goes through the amputation of emotions, sometimes or many times in this life.

People say emotions are feelings and one cant touch or feel emotions. One doesn't have A body part where Emotions live. It could be heart, it could be mind?!! Its not like you can do a heart surgery and repair a broken heart. Still our emotions exhibit behaviour every bit like they are physical part of our body. The pain of amputated emotions is as real as a body part. The raw nerve endings of the emotions keep sending you signals even after things have ended...

Which part of our body does emotion reside in? Why does sorrow manifest it self physically in tears? Why does Joy get expressed in the form of laughter?!! Why are emotions such a mystery??

A Seed for thought for the emotions amputee

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Badly Good

"Bad things happen to Good people"

I have been hearing this a lot in the past few days. Its got me it really true. If it is true that means that there are good people and bad people. Being a very open minded person, I have always lived my life as " I like you" and " I don't like you". Its never been about good or bad. It was always about who you got along with. Looking back I see a lot of my Friends are similar. The women are nearly all alike. They all are Strong women, making a difference in their own way. The stand apart in the crowd. They can hold their own against anyone. These women are a deep vessel of emotions. They feel and emote. They all are special. The men Friends...hmmm. I can't seem to put a single thread through them that I can say ties that one quality together. They all are different as different can be. The only thing common I guess is that if I even need them, they will be there, no matter what or where! Maybe that is that common link. They will be there...

I think judging some one is such a terrible thing. I hate it when I get judged, which is a lot, trust me in the Industry that I work in. We all get judged. That how it works. It the damn judgement of people that get society talkin about "good" or "bad". I grew up with this phase that Anna repeated very often and still does, "One mans food is another mans poison" yep, its true. We can't have the same rules of the game for one and all.

All I know is that people who don't wish harm to the world and are sensitive to the world, are the ones who are called good. They feel the bad that happens to them much more than a person who is not sensitive enough. It doesn't mean that good stuff and bad stuff is not distributed equally amongst us all. Its just the judgement of the situation. I know I am too damn sensitive. I also know that I have never gone out knowingly to harm the world. I have my boundaries, once crossed I guess I am bad. I like to be left in my own space, doin my own thing. It could be office or home. I live in Small Miracle Land and its my rules that rule! That's me. Does that mean that my ability to feel searing pain makes me Good?! Or my inability to fall in line with others makes me Bad?!!

Amazingly for a person who doesn't judge the world. I judge my self too harshly. I am always never too good to me. I am almost always too harsh on me. Well, all that is changing now. I am finding the balance within me. I am striving hard to be good to me. I am reaching out to repair me. I am thinkin " bad things happen to everyone one" and not just me.

Do bad things happen to good people. Think about it people? Does the bad escape bad people, or is that they juss don't feel it as much as others? What really is good or bad?!

A Seed for Thought?!

Friday, March 20, 2009

Striped Tigress

Today is one of those day when I woke up knowing that it gonna be fine. I am gonna make this my day. Some times you just have to do that. Some times you have to wake out of the long slumber you have been in. When you really wake up to life one realises so many things…

It’s all right to feel things. It’s all right to have failed. It’s all right to be wrong. It’s all right to be me. Its alright to show emotion. Its alright to feel despair. If people don’t want to be with me then it’s all right as well. I can't and wont put my self through this anymore. I will be Me…I have always been me yet in the past few years I was embarrassed to be me. I could do no right it seems. Me was all wrong. It was me that attracted you all to me. I have an Ego. Yep, that’s right, I have it. So, it was always there…it was always a part of me. I am me. That’s it. No more apology. No more "I am Sorry" for being me.

I come with my faults…and that’s what makes me. My strengths and weakness both are a part of me. I am proud of my strengths and I am going to STOP apologising for my weakness. I am me with black and white. The white I will keep happily and the black I will not be scared of anymore.

I am a Striped Tigress with both…and that is OK with me. Its not easy being a striped tigress amongst zebras but that’s how God and I both intended it to be.

I love my stripes. I wear them with pride. I wake up to realise that how I have always been. I CAN’T BE A ZEBRA…that just won’t be me.

I have always been me…so lets just let me BE.

A seed for thought for the awakened me...

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Memory Box

A few days back I was cleanin up some junk at the basement with the family. After years I opened up my college Memory Box. This box holds so many wonderful memories in it. Hundreds of small bits and pieces that puts those absolutely wonderful 3 years together. I have about hundred Salman Khan pictures, post cards and other stuff. Mostly gifted by friends. I was mad about him in those days. He was my dream man...muscles and all. I guess even at 17 I had a thing for well built men.

Pictures of us looking like rag tiny shorts and unkempt hair. Stuff that I had on my study table. Looking back I realise that I ALWAYS loved fashion. There are these awesome pics that I have cut out from phoren magazines bought from shankar market. They reminded me of the lovely collage I had made for Chetan while passing out from school. How much he got ragged in IIT coz every one wanted to know who this girl a true artist I had left a big signature on it.

I have my favourite Jeans in the box. I bought that pair from FU's. In good old days that was the ONLY cool store in south extension. My jeans were torn...two massive gashed in them, patched with star and stripes. I loved those jeans. I wore them when I won Miss Fresher Hostel along with D. It was and will remain my favourite pair for life.

I also have my mama's denim jacket. I had stolen it from him. Cut it up...and made the dhobi wash it so much that threads were hanging from all over...and it was completely washed out. In those days denims were to be really washed out. I was so fond of that jacket. I am also so glad that I kept it, coz now that he is no more...its even more precious to me.

The memory box also had this Mat made by my Granny and me. We had made it from strips of left over plastic bags and knit them into a lovely mat. That is the mat that D used to sit on every night, while makin tea or maggie for the gang. It was her favourite mat and dare any one else sit on it!! I pulled out the mat from the box and it was frayed from the edges...the lovely recycled plastic bag mat.

The most important bit that came out was Anna's mini skirt. I remember she had given it to me very proudly while I was leaving home. She wore it at Miranda House Hostel when she was there as a student and then deemed fit to pass it on to her daughter on going to her college. I wore that short short skirt so much in MHH that its all faded now. Maybe if I ever have a daughter I will pass it on to her...till then it will sit in my memory box.

Last but not least came out my diary...I had written this poem on passing out of MHH. Here goes...

Ode to Miranda

Red brick walls
old teak wood doors
L-shaped rooms
a room meant for 2
it all looked so dead
the first time
I saw u MHH..
after 3 long years
sheltered in the
L- shaped rooms
I realised it wasn't
a dead, lifeless building
It was a place where
I grew, matured, made best friends
learnt to care, to give
to take & be what I am
now I feel the need
to sat THANK YOU
for making me who I will be tomorrow

3rd OCT 1994

Isn't it strange that we only get the first 20 yrs of our life to be innocently young. Based on those very 20 years we spend the next 50 odd years. Every thing that we do, behave, think, act, desire is based on those very formative years. We then proceed to spend the next ENTIRE life time enacting that behaviour. I often look back and draw strength from what I was then and find the will to move on. Looking back I was priceless...

Seed for thought for the ageless mind?!!

Friday, March 13, 2009


Last night D and I spoke…really really spoke. We talk to each other nearly every day but there is so much left unsaid. She lives in Assam and I in Gurgaon. She is a mother of two and I have my work. She cares too much to bother me with her issues in life and I love her immensely to break her heart with mine. But yesterday we spoke. It amazing how opening my heart to D is like talking to my soul sister, confidant, shrink all rolled into one.

I still remember the first time I saw D. It was our hostel interview at Miranda House on a very very hot day. I was burning up with fever and would have rather slept in then go and sit in front of the Principal and a few others to explain why I should get the hostel seat. Blah is what I felt like? I was wearing a blue kurta and cream salwaar. Borrowed from my masi as I didn't own any. Trying to look all grown up. While sitting in the laws on Miranda house Hostel ( MHH) I saw this really striking girl walk in with her mother. I had my head on my knees and hair over my eyes…through the blur I could see D walk very confidently down to the Wardens office. Arguably the best-looking girl stood out in the crowd. There was something about her; people always just stared at her. Girls wanted to be her best friend and boys wanted to marry her.

I don’t know what it was about D but the instant we met we were connected. She had a different course, different set of friend, rooms were in different blocks, different rooms mates. Yet we were totally alike. Randomly we would meet up in the lawns at 3 am in the morning…talk about friends, family, Boyfriends (eerily we both were dating men with same names!!). We could talk till the sun came up. Then not meet up for weeks. By the end of first year we were very clear that we would be roommates in the next year. We both had other dear friends who couldn’t understand why we wanted to live together when we hardly ever spoke. We also had other dear friends who wanted us to partner with them instead of each other. Very complicated Hostel politics. Human politics. Emotional politics.

We were roommates the next year and then pretty much lived together for the next 11 years. D stayed with my family and I in Pune while I was doing my MBA. She was working with an NGO. My parents love her as their own and arpan thought he had finally found an elder sister and NOT a brother that he had in me.

D and I have travelled the world together. I was in San Hose working with a dot com and D was in Missouri. She had come over to the states as an exchange programme. We hadn’t met for a year…. the longest ever we had been apart. I decided to quit my job. Just like that I decided I am goin back to India. As always we pooled all our money together and took off to discover America. We would travel by the Grey Hound bus by night and saw places by day. It was absolutely brilliant.

Vegas by far is my best memory. D who is an amazing swimmer insisted we spend one day at a water park. I bought my bikini to look good in while hers was clearly to swim. I who can’t swim to save my life…was made to do these feaky scary rides from 8 stories high. I don’t think I have EVER screamed so loudly!! By afternoon she was doin the daredevil rides while I was happy on a tube. Floating in the lazy river. The nights were spent gambling…D who is an avid gambler was seriously at work and I was busy flirting with the Australian snooker player who was over for a snooker championship.

We have run away from Pune to Goa 4 days before my MBA entrance exam. Till today I can’t get it how I ever managed to get through the MBA. We’ve got drunk together on port wine for the first time, very confused as we thought that wine was a ladies drink and no one ever got drunk on it. I have booked us a trip to Bangkok and Phuket. Imagine her surprise when at the airport she realised we were not off to Goa but Thailand!!! She taught me how to cook. I taught her to drive a scooter. I love make up she doesn't have a speck of it on her face. I always wanted a career and D a home full of kids. She taught me how to love unconditionally, I taught her not to look back in life...

I have a gazillion stories to tell…but I can’t. All I know is that we have a bond that is unexplainable. It’s amazing how much we have rescued each other over the years. Some times we have rescued each other from people, some times from situations and a few times we have been rescued from our own selves.

We have also made many life journeys together. From having my first cigarette with D at age 17 to standing on a road in Mumbai in pouring rain waiting to hear that she has given birth to her first born…From winning the Miss Fresher Miranda House Hostel title together to becoming Mrs so and so…its been a super friendship.

I am blessed to have D. That my dear is NO seed for thought.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009


What an amazing day its been. Today we celebrated Holi, the festival of colour and joy, with our near and dear ones. It was a lazy start to a very amazing day. I left home around mid day...mostly every one had finished playing that annoying, rough Holi and by the time we got to our friends at Richmond, people were just happy to put lovely red, green and yellow dry colours on me. Too tired and drunk to bother with the rest, which suited me just fine.

It was sunny and hot. About 12 of my good Friends had come together. I am very fond of them. It was an afternoon of fun, mad conversations, friendly banter, lovely cool cool shandy and awesome biryani. That's my idea of a perfect festival. With lots of people around. All of us sipping from the same Cup of Joy. Every one was mellow and happy. The cup of joy was runeth over.

Days like this you remember for years to come.

Got home around 5ish, washed the colour off and crashed out. I woke up with D's call. Although we talk nearly every day, I love hearing her voice. Waking up to her warm hello always makes my day. She is my best friend, sister, confidant, pillar of strength. We chatted a bit and while chatting I walked out to my terrace. It was that time of the evening when the sun has just set but there is still a warm glow in the horizon. Surprisingly the evening was cool ...the breeze made me feel a bit chilly so I went in and grabbed a light shawl. Made my self some nice green tea and sat outside with Prem Joshua music playing in the background. The fragrance of lovely sandal incense I had lit added to what was goin to turn into a very magical few minutes...

I rested my head on the garden chair and looked up in the sky. There was just one big shiny north star in the sky. Nothing else. A navy blue sky with a shiny star. The moon was no where to be seen. Holding my hot cup of tea I closed my eyes and made a silent wish and blew it up in the sky. The cool breeze blowing my hair slightly. Peaceful. Serene. As I slowly opened my eyes, right in front of me was the top half of the moon...slowing rising into the sky, hidden amongst the tall rises of Gurgaon.

It is a full moon night today. The moon was a bright yellow ball...confusing me, as it looked like it had stolen some colour from the sun. It was Holi afterall. Slowly this bright orange ball of fire rose...mesmerising me with its beauty. The sky started to go a darker shade of blue and tiny stars started to twinkle. Man, I can't believe how beautiful the rising moon was.

It just made me reflect of the duality of the day. The sun brought in utter joyous madness with people playing Holi. There was energy in the air. Every one was on a super high. The Sun brought out the fire...while the Moon brought in the peace. It was all quiet. No mad rush of people. Suddenly here I was totally spellbound by the beauty of the moment. The immense peace that it brought with it can't be put in words.

I am amazed every day with the duality of life. I am amazed with the duality of rushing about our daily life and the need of finding peace. I am amazed with the duality of working and wanting to escape. I am amazed with the duality of joy and sadness. I am amazed that we exist amongst all of this. We get fire from the Sun and mellow joy from the Moon. We exist between the Sun and the Moon...

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

Do we have to travel far and wide in search of beauty?! Its right out there in front of us, we just have to stretch out and reach for it. We need to stop and stare for a moment and make it timeless in our heart and mind. I did it today...just like that the moment was mine forever...

A Seed for Thought?!!

Monday, March 9, 2009

Good Bye

As an army brat I grew up all my life moving from one place to another. Hence leaving behind relationships and friends as we went along. It wasn’t easy leaving friends behind but it wasn’t earth shattering either. We moved along and friends came and went. Some relationships really stuck and have seen many postings and years. Some just withered away with time. We moved on as defence personnel’s family and so did relationships. Time and we didn't stop for anyone.

Today it’s a different story. It is so difficult to say good-bye, even if the relationship or friendship is harmful for self. Its like your left brain and right brain are just not connecting. Your heart has malfunctioned. It’s not responding to emotions. You are sticking on to things that are toxic and rotting.

Friends who haven’t got the strength anymore to take you for who you are, weak partners, pretentious relatives, jaded colleagues, boring jobs, people who are not strong enough to stand by you. Then why am I not able to get out of this toxic situation? It’s not just me thats in this quandary. The more I look around the more I see the same with the world around me. We just want destiny to make those hard calls for us. We are on bended knees taking the weight of useless meaningless relationships, routines, jobs, people...

Aren’t our choices supposed to add that extra zing in our lives…then why is it weighing us down? Do we weave such tangled webs around us that the very webs that were to be our safety nets, become our emotional deathbeds?!

A seed for thought for the emotionally parched?!

Thursday, March 5, 2009


Last evening V and I were at Galleria. Just hanging. Slightly bored and a wee bit tired. I like hanging out with V. He is such a fun person to be with. He has this directness and innocence about him that I really admire. We almost always have conversation that gets me to think. Even at work he at times lands up saying things that mean much more than he intended them to be.

We decided to have Momos. They are such a pick me up and I can have them anytime of the day or night. So while waiting for the momos to be steamed, V and I look down from the first floor and see people cross across around the fountain. Suddenly V says, “ No one is wearing cardigans anymore”. Hmmmm…that’s so true I said. No one was wearing cardigans anymore. Isn’t it strange that when the weather changes, one doesn’t even realise it. We go from one whole season to another totally different one within matter of days.

One fine day you wake up and don’t wear a cardigan to work. Just within going to sleep and waking up, something has shifted and it’s Spring! One fine day there are flowers blooming all over my garden. The garden goes from green to all colours of rainbow. One morning you wake up and go to your terrace garden and your fish have given birth to 40 fries. The same pond that was perfect for 4 fish is now suddenly too small for 44!!

Isn’t it amazing how one act can change things after that very moment? One doesn’t even know it and seasons change. Yes one can feel the change in the air. One can sense the change but one can’t SEE it. Just like that V and I noticed that spring was in the air and summer will be here soon. Season change, people change, emotions change, looks change, attitude change....all can happen within matter of minutes.

Just like that. 17 years of strong foundation of friendship gets shaken because you were not told that your friend is pregnant. Just like that something fundamental in that friendship shifts…it will never be the same again. Some acts in life happen that change things. So many people cross through your life and you don’t even feel them pass through. Then one day one random person comes into your life. Change gets ushered in. Something shifts. You make place for that person. Years later you are the fondest of friends.

I am amazed with the suddenness and randomness of life. Do you get so preoccupied with life that you don’t notice the change? When the shift has happened we wake up with a start and realise the shift. The moon has gone from a thin line in the horizon to nothingness and we don't even notice. Were we caught napping by life?

Seed for thought?!!

Wednesday, March 4, 2009


Today my Mentor and Father figure in the corporate world called to wish me belated Birthday. I lovingly call him Pops. He has been a huge inspiration in my life. He has bullied me. He has pushed me beyond my limits that I hated him. He fathered me. He is my sounding board. He has supported me at work. He has appreciated me slogging my tiny butt off. He has mentored me.

He also helped me find a house in 2000 when I left my family in Washington DC to come start a life on my own in Delhi. I lived above his house in a barsati for 3 years. Undoubtedly, the most independent years of my life. The most horrific ones for him.

I had just moved into the barsati and Racho had come over to spend the night. How would a 20 something celebrate her first step to total independence??! I would say with booze, right?!! The only hitch was that I didn’t have any. So at 11 pm I land up on A’s door with 2 steel glasses in my hand and demand a shot of Old Monk and coke. A just stared at me long and hard. “ Rum and coke, eh?!”. I by then am feeling a bit nervous. After all A is the COO of the company I work for. Mentor be damned! So to make matters better or so I think, I say “ OK A, can I just get the rum? We will have it straight up, forget the coke”. A at point is really looking annoyed. He gruffly says “ Wife will wake up with all your chitter chatter. I will send it up. Goodnight”. I go back up to the 3rd floor barsati fuming. I tell Racho how mean and horrid A is and how he sent me back without his precious booze. We start grumbling about things he does at work etc etc for the next half hour. The doorbell rings. I most grudgingly go to the door; after all it’s close to mid night now.

There standing at my door was A’s man friday with a LOVELY tray set up with lemon slices, 2 very exquisitely cut crystal glasses, rum in a crystal decanter and coke. I am standing there shocked thinking “ What the Hell!!”. There is note tucked away in the tray with just one line “ This is how adults have a drink!”

Needless to say over the next 3 years he did many such wonderfully surprising things for me. I quit working with him and moved to another job. Through it all he held my hand, in absence of my father who was in DC. He guided me and not for a minute did I feel alone. He was this person who loomed large and let me know that in case I needed a father figure he was around. Till today I call him when I am in a fix.

I am so glad he called today. There are times when one is full of self-doubts, professional or personal. In times like those when your mentor calls and says “ There are only 2 people I know in this world who will not only survive the recession and bad times but THRIVE in it. One of them is you.” At that point you know that if he has such a high opinion of his protégé, his protégé has to have the same belief in her self.

My life will be fine. I will find my way through the maze.

Mentor is someone whose hindsight becomes your foresight. Its been 10 years since I have worked with A and I wish I could again. We all deserve that one mentor. Seed for thought?!!

Sunday, March 1, 2009


Last night there was a celebration. Last night 30 of us got together to celebrate MY life. I think it needs celebrating, wouldn't you agree? So much has been done and achieved. Looking back it seems that life has thrown every possible flower and thorn my way. I like all, have loved the flowers and learnt very grudgingly from the thorns. But, in all I have lived to celebrate life. I have almost always been thankful for what I have, grateful for lords abundance and amazed with the wonder of life.

Last night reminded me that I can't lose my prospective on life. I need all those Friends in my life, playing different roles. I am sad the closest of them could not be there ( devjani and roohie I missed ya)..but I do know that THEY are the ones who have made my life a bigger celebration. They are the ones who remind me that I can't bring in my birthday the way I did last year. Last year I was in bed, unwell...mourning my life. I didn't know why I was sick, nor did the doctors. I didn't take any ones call. All i did was sit in bed at my parents home. If I wanted to be with anyone then, it was them. No gifts. It was just me and my sickness. No one but Racho came to meet me.She came over to meet me in the afternoon and was surprised to see me not take my phone calls. The phone was ringing off the hook...and I didn't want to let my friends love into my life at that point. I was so focused on the sickness that I forgot to celebrate life. Soon after that day I got scheduled in for a surgery.

My surgery was first thing in the morning. I was calm as hell. Chatted with the nurses and surgeon. As I lay down on the cold metal bed while I was being wheeled in my mind was numb. No fear. No stress. No feelings. Nothing. I wasn't even upset that my better half couldn't make it time to see me off to the surgery. Then anesthesia took over my senses, all my mind was thinking was that I didn't celebrate my life. I didn't celebrate my birthday. What if I don't get another chance? While slipping under all I wanted was another chance to celebrate my I woke up shivering violently and the nurse rushing to cover me with blankets. That woke me for good from the strange stupor I had been in days, mourning my life. Not only did I wake up from the anesthesia, I seem to have WOKEN up in life!

Why are birthdays so important?? I am NOT one one those women who hate birthday and aging. Yes I do admit I dislike my "adult acne" that I started sprouting since past few years. They are despicable! Apart from them aging has been most certainly been an amazing life journey. Every line, every open pore tells a story..and now it seems every pimple is tellin its story! : )

Being a peoples person, my Joy is being around them. I am so happy that last night 30 of them were there to celebrate my bday with me. It was a mad mad party with AMAZIN jello shots. All in all it was great to be surrounded with people who love and care for me. I am so blessed to have them.

I hope next time when life offers me a rose with a thorn attached, I can get over it and enjoy the beauty of the rose. I don't want to only look at the thorn like I did last year...This year I want to reach out and touch the rose, feel it velvety petals. I will not worry too much about the thorns. I will be mesmerised by the rose.

This year I celebrate my life.

Why do we become so obsessed with the hurt, the bleeding, the tears that we don't even notice all the joys, the flowers, the music that life hands us side by side! Are we sucker for pain?! Is it much more addictive than joy can be? Seed for thought??