The day my little brother was born, I was hit by a stone which accidentally went straight to my eye. I was playing in the garden and someone flung a stone in the air which unfortunately found its target- my eye. I bled profusely and though I recall none of it, everyone at home was in tears. I always tell my brother that he's responsible for it. He conspired with the gods to do that to me. Of cos I took my revenge by being the bully till he outgrew me in size and I could no longer overpower him.
The hottest topic of debate was always" whom does mom love more" and we both are always at our creative best to try and outsmart each other to prove our point here. All this notwithstanding, I have the dearest, most lovable and darling brother in this whole world and I would never ever give him up for anything. He's far too precious to me. I always count myself lucky that I share more than just the relationship of blood with my my mom and brother. They both are great buddies to me who have seen me grow, they have seen my most ugly side and my most beautiful side, seen me fall and get up again, run with the bruises aching all over and emerge a winner as well. And the best part is they love me unconditionally with all my faults and follies. As my brother and I dint have much of an age gap, we grew up together as good buddies, playing together, studying together, attending karate classes which neither of us liked . Some of my fondest memories are him teaching me to ride a bicycle, the way he would run behind me in the scorching sun barely able catch his breath as I shrieked" don't leave the cycle, I'll fall". He has never left the cycle till date. And I know his strong arms are there to help me get up and walk again, lest I trip and fall.
As we grew up our bond strengthened and we turned to each other for comfort when that heartbreak happened, a friend backstabbed, the pressures of corporate world were taking a toll, that promotion dint happen, that colleague was a real headache, we discussed our worries and shared our joys with each other. The day he moved to a different city for his engineering -it was the first time we were physically separated after 18 years of living together. I couldn't stop my tears even long after he was gone, it took me a lot of time to get used to it. Infact I still miss his physical presence but I know he is just a phone call away. In the dead of the night if I feel miserable, I know there is voice in which I can seek solace.
I was always enthusiastic about having 2 kids but after experiencing the ground reality and specially those first 3 months after Angel was born, this sleep deprived and constantly fatigued mom declared to one and all, this is it- full stop. Only one child. I cannot go through this again. I supported my arguments by saying that in today's world where everything is so damn expensive, lets focus on giving the best of facilities, education and upbringing to one child. Also given the paucity of time on our hands, we might not be able to do justice to two kids.. But when I looked at Angel as she slept peacefully, I wondered would she really like growing up alone? Once she got older, she would surely need a sibling with whom she could share her childhood. Friends would be there no doubt and kids schedules are so busy nowadays what with extra curricular activities and so many birthday parties plus academics, despite this nothing can beat the joy of growing up together with that sibling- fighting, debating, cuddling, and as they grow up forging that deep bond which will be your safe haven in many a life's rough storms. Do I want to deprive Angel of this relation? Thinking of my growing years and my closet buddy, I definitely want her to experience the joy of having a sibling. After all what's the fun in life without someone pulling your hair, calling you names and hugging you tightly as you go to bed.
A visit to the shopping mall and all kinds of people dressed in varied shades and type of clothes is what catches the eye. While the guys longingly ogle at pretty girls and women check out each other from top to down- right from how has she done her hair to her toe nail and the shade of nail paint, one cannot fail to notice some middle aged aunties all dressed up in a pair of jeans or a skirt, some of them look around awkwardly, adjust their dress and try to look comfortable but it’s apparent that they are not. How could they possibly be? For around them are so many eyes scanning them, some are whispering to others and guffawing. It is quite evident that people find it amusing when a fat lady wears jeans. She's your regular woman who has those tires around her waist and some generous dollops of flesh on her thighs. She is the one always trying to hide these so called flaws by wearing an ill fitting salwar for hasn't she heard time and again from everyone- “you are FAT, you
A short story. "We couldn't save him we are extremely sorry ma'am your son is no more". An eerie silence crept all over. I was so shocked that I stood rooted to the spot. No tears, no sobs, no loud cries just a blank stare. Staring into oblivion. It was just this morning that I kissed Rehan good morning, gave him a bear hug which is our morning ritual, whispered in his ears " Mumma loves you baby", lovingly packed his sandwiches and stuffed the chocolate bars and chips into his bag. He was all excited about his school picnic. They we're headed to a resort which had a lake and my boy loved water. What an irony.It's this water which made him pay the price of his life. Yes it took him away from me forever. When a child loses his parents, he is called an orphan. A wife who loses a husband is called a widow, a husband who loses his wife is referred to as s widower. But what do you call a parent who has lost his child. Is there a word? I guess not.
You usually pick up a book to read because you heard a good word about it from a reader friend, or you chanced upon a good review or simply browsing for a book, you read the back cover and were intrigued to know more. My reasons for picking up this book is something you surely can’t beat! A chance encounter with the author Bavna Rai in a networking event right at my workplace made me rush home and download it on my kindle for weekend reading. Now being a blogger and aspiring writer, nothing gives you more joy than meeting someone who shares the same passion. Unfortunately I have never met a single soul who has remotely anything to do with blogging or writing in my workplace though I have worked for some of the biggest names in the Investment Banking World. Imagine how euphoric I was to receive an invitation for a networking event with 2 senior women leaders and I see that one of them is passionate about writing and has authored a book. Listening to Bhavna’s candid thoughts