Shahrukh swag, Dabangg and steamy farts.

Winters huh! Yeah I am not too fond of them. I mean they are okay. A bit hyped actually. The only thing I like about winters is the Shahrukh Khan feel that it gives me every morning as I walk out of the bathroom. You know what I mean, right? That feeling, down there in that picture.

Yeah I give that Shahrukh Khan entry every time I walk out of the super steamy bathroom. Yup the swag and all...

I have noticed SSM give me a weird look every time I  make that classic entry from the bathroom to the bedroom. He is probably impressed at my swag. But actually he has been giving me that look ever since I took him to watch Dabangg 3. Rather, from the time I walked out of the theatre and shouted BEST. MOVIE. EVER. A lot of people gave me the look too. I am pretty sure they were overwhelmed by the cinema as well and it was a look of mutual admiration. Well. SSM has been giving me the look since then. I guess he is unable to express his awe. But I get him.

So well, 2020 resolution is to start blogging again. And here I am. And like all resolutions this may not stick around too... but I will try. Because crazy keeps happening.

It is not my fault really that I stopped blogging. When I was doing my day job, I had the laptop open in front of me and there was no other option than to blog. Because I rarely worked. Now that I am at home I don’t see the laptop and I don't blog. So I have asked SSM to switch on the laptop every morning. Not because I am lazy but because he needs to have some fun thing to do too, besides giving me the look.

The winters this year are seriously cold. Ri, Rai and I went for a walk last evening and we were steaming from our mouth. Ri was having fun blowing air from his mouth watching it steam. He then asked me, Ma would we see steam if I fart too. I kept staring at this butts all the time we were out. I am not sure if he did fart. But I was happy with the though of steaming farts.

It is Ri’s birthday today. He turns 9. Happy birthday, love and may the year be full of steamy sparkly farts.

The photograph bunting.

I like decorating my house. More of a DIY thing really. You know, origami stuff, handmade lamps, quilted art and stuff like that… you get it right?

The newest thing I did around the house was to get some family photographs printed and clip them on a string like a bunting. I tied this photograph bunting across the living room window. Just below the fabric bunting I had made and hung some time ago. (Show off alert!) Well, this photograph bunting soon became my most favourite spot around the house. Not just mine, I think it became SSM’s favourite spot too.

These photographs were a reminder of various moments when we were at our happiest. The smiles showed. Each of them had a memory stuck to it. A memory that SSM, Ri and I visited every time we looked at them. Memories that made us smile. Memories that made us forget our present distress.

I got onto the habit of staring at them once every day. But with time, I realised that these photographs looked slightly different every time... So slight was the difference that it could well have been a fragment of my imagination. But I did feel that the smiles and the twinkles in the eye were, maybe, just maybe, minutely less on certain days that others.

And then I realised what it was… the photographs, the memories, the us in our happy past, were actually looking back at us, at our present, our todays. Yes. They, I mean us, trapped in those glossy sheets of paper were actually watching us too. Their happy smiles seemed alive on the days we were happy. On other days, when our days were not too good, our smiles in the photographs somewhere did not reach our eyes. They seemed a little faded, I thought.

It did cross my mind to mention this to SSM, but then I thought against it. I don’t know if he noticed it too, but I did see him glance at the photographs from the corner of his eyes, time to time. When we were in the midst of a conversation or when he was playing candy crush on his phone while I sat with a book.

Well, as days passed, I became totally convinced that the photographs were, well, alive. They looked like regular happy photographs to anyone else who saw them, but when you looked at them every day, you would not miss the miniscule changes in the expressions of our impressions on those photographs.

Life had definitely become stressful and we were really looking forward to a holiday we had planned as soon as Ri finishes the session at school. The stress was building up and the photographs were slowly fading.

Finally, the day for the holiday was here. We were happy and excited after a real long time. And weirdly (may be not) the photographs seems less faded today. We locked up and left the home for a week of serene bliss. And we had a wonderful time. We were happy as can be after a long, long time. It was truly a much needed break. We got back home happier and with more joyful memories.

I did not notice the photograph bunting that evening. But the next morning when we sat for our breakfast, I saw that the photographs had all curled. Really. They were curled and bent. They looked very dull too. I pointed it out to SSM who said that they had probably curled up because of the heat in the city. We agreed that we need to get fresh prints and redo the bunting sometime next weekend.

Two days have passed since then. We have been happy, laughing and basking in the thoughts of the wonderful holiday we just had. We have been having a really good time at home enjoying movies and ice creams.

Today morning was quiet. SSM left for office and Ri is busy reading Chamber of Secrets. I sat at the table and glanced at the photograph bunting. The photographs have gone all straight and stiff again. Not just that, they are not dull anymore. They are as good as new. I called SSM to check if he managed to get new prints and missed telling me. He hadn’t. I go stand in front of the bunting. The smiles are all happy and bright. There is a twinkle in our eyes in there.

Did I imagine it or did the me in that photo just wink?

Mothers day!

It was Mothers day on Sunday... It was also the day when the maid decided to go on a week long holiday... So yeah a very happy mothers day to HER. 

Ri was sweet. He made this real cute bookmark for me. 

As much as I loved the gesture I must say that I was a tiny bit disappointed because he said he added the white hair because well... Mama you are growing old and getting white hair anyway... Also because he cut off the white hair from my lovely troll figurine. But we'll... I love the gesture. 

It was a good mothers day with the weather suddenly behaving itself and making it pleasent for all of us. I spent some good time sitting and watching the rain and watching Ri and Rai watch the rain.

Have I told you about Rai. Well she is a nutcase. 

Age: 4 months. 

Breed: Lab Ret.

Favourite playmate: The bucket.

Favourite chew toy: Underwear.

Favourite food: everything edible and non edible. Especially wood and sponge and cushion fillings and slippers...

That is all about Rai. She makes my life complete.

So I quit my job, started an online quilt shop, got a furbaby... My life now feels complete. Almost. I still wait for my farm house and chicken coop. But that is a faaaar away dream. :D

‌But seriously... This moment... This very moment seems perfect. (Except the maid on leave.) We shall see what tomorrow brings.

‌I will get back to my sewing machine now.

I have a weird kid... But I guess that runs in the family.

Me: Hey how come they are teaching you eye parts in school already.
Ri: No they are not.
Me: So where did you learn to draw this?
Ri: Oh I saw it on your phone one day...
Me: Why? Why were you searching for parts of eyes?
Ri: (Shrugs) Just like that... For fun..
Me: For fun? FOR FUN?
Ri gave me a blank look.

I guess weird just runs in the family.

Also... Happy birthday, SSM.

Seriously!?

Me: Ri , that is super messy eating. Please clean up the plate.

Ri: Why?

Me: Because kids who eat clean, have their dreams come true

Ri: Ma please that is just an old story you've heard as a kid. You know things don't work that way.

Me : 😱

Erm...!

So I am singing the Bimbo song and Ri is listening to me. For those you who do not know the Bimbo song , here is a bit of it: 

Bimbo, is a little boy
Who's got a million friends
And every time he passes by
They all invite him in
He'll clap his hands
And sing and dance
And talk his baby talk
With a hole in his pants
And his knees stick out
He's just big enough to walk

Bimbo, Bimbo
Where you going to go e oh
Bimbo, Bimbo
What you going to do e oh
Bimbo, Bimbo
Does your mommy know
That your going down the road
To see a little girly oh!

It is a lovely song. You can click on the hyperlink and listen to it too.

So I am singing the song and suddenly Ri stops me.

Ri: So, ma... This boy, Bimbo, he really like girls doesn't he?

Me: Yep he does

Ri: And he does not tell his mother that he is going to meet this girls.

Me: Uh huh...

Ri: So, ma... That is not really a great thing because he should tell his mother where he is going.

Me: That is right...

Ri: So, it is wrong behaviour.

Me: (Not sure where this is going) Yes. He should have told his mother.

Ri: Hmm... And still he has a million friends!

And yet again I am stunned!

Just another regular day.

Ri is sitting on the bed reading about planets in his planet book. SSM is sitting on the floor beside the bed reading some book.

I walk in to the room with my phone in my hand. My phone is playing the chicken kuk du ku song.

I start dancing to it. (Because we all do silly dance at home, right?)

Ri and SSM both look up from whatever they are reading. They both stare at me for a moment.

And then Ri says, "Mama, stop! I really do not like your moves!" and they both get back to reading.

How to become rich!

Ri: Ma, I have a plan!

Me: About what, Ri?

Ri: Ma, I have a super plan to make me rich!

Me: Really? I could do with that too! Tell me?

Ri: So mama, next time my tooth falls, I will plant it.

Me: Okay. How is that going to make you rich?

Ri: Maaaa (Eye roll!) It will grow into a teeth tree.

Me: And then?

Ri: I will pluck out a tooth from the tree every day and keep it under my pillow. Every day I get money from the tooth fairy. Forever.

Me: 😲!!!

Who loves Nutella?

The crazy munchkin.

This morning at the breakfast table, Ri was licking a spoonful of Nutella after having his pancakes.

Me: Hey, Ri, do you know who else loves Nutella the way you do.

Ri: Yup, Nehru.

SSM and I both stared at each other.

Me, again: Erm. Who?

Ri: (with all his focus on the spoon) Nehru, Ma

Now this was getting really weird. So both SSM and I stopped eating stared at him for a moment. This needed further investigation.

Me: Hey, who exactly is Nehru?

Ri:(with a big sigh) Ma, Nehru, that guy in Sholay

And this was a new level of crazy even for me.

Me: What? Sholay? What was Nehru doing in Sholay"

Ri: He was Amitabh Bachchan.

And that is when it struck me. Because weird strikes the weird.

Me: Do you mean Veeru, Ri?

Ri: Ah yes, right, Veeru"

And then SSM and I had a difficult time controlling our ROFL.

SSM: But Amitabh bachhan was Jai, His friend was Veeru.

Ri: Oh. Okay.

Me: And how do you know that Veeru likes Nutella?"

Ri: Uh, Amitabh Bachhan like Nutella.

Well, really, there was no way I was going to ask for any more explanation to that.

So well, we shall just conclude that Amitabh Bachhan loves Nutella. And, maybe, Nehru loved it too. We shall never know. :|

Sigh! The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, right? Crazy runs in the family!

Why I wasn't blogging.

The image was googled

I know. I haven’t been blogging much. And that is because… okay, so it is a weird sort of a thing that happened. Let me tell you about it in detail.

I was walking around the block one evening when I came across a small diversion that I hadn’t noticed earlier. Curious, I took to the lane and it reached a wall. So a blind lane it was. I turned around to get back to my usual path but it wasn’t there. No. Seriously. It just wasn’t there. I just hit a wall again.

Well, obviously, I panicked. I started shouting for help. HELP! But my voice just echoed in the blocked lane. I frantically started looking around for something. Something. I do not know what. Anything, like stones or waste coke cans that I could throw over the wall and get help, or some explosives that could bring the wall down, or a packet of chips because I was hungry. Well anything could have helped, but there was nothing.

I sat down exasperated. I wished I had carried my mobile phone so that I could call someone, or play ‘two dot’ (My current favourite game) but iguess i just had to wait. After what seemed like hours, I finally heard a slight swishing sound. I couldn’t figure out what it was. I could only hope it wasn’t cockroaches. Katasaridaphobia. Any other creature would have been fine. Luckily, it was another creature.

I realised that the swishing wasn’t coming in from ‘my’ lane. Nope. It was somewhere far away, up in the sky. Initially, I noticed a tiny speck. But as it flew closer, I was sure, it was IT. It. Was. A. Hippogriff. Seriously! No kidding.

It landed in ‘my’ lane and before I could understand I was tossed up in the air and I landed with a thud on its back. I clung on for dear life as it flew away with me.

The flight on the hippogriff was AMAZING. It’s one experience that will stay with me forever. Anyway, we flew over oceans and mountains and lands unheard of. (Mainly because I suck at geography. I am sure, you smart guys, would have heard of them.) And we finally reached what seemed to be a castle.

And I was excited because I thought I would be expected to slay dragons and save the handsome prince, but no, that happened only in fairy tales, apparently.

So I was dropped off, literally, at the gates of the castle and then escorted by men in helmets, not bike helmets, stupid, but the Viking kind of helmets. They took me to the guy, who I guessed was the king because they all bowed down to him. I bowed down too because that seemed appropriate.

He then said in a loud booming voice, “Me, the great Gaster Nomos, the lord of the Culinary, have heard from the messengers far and wide, that you, lady, can bake the best caramel, bread pudding ever created. I. NEED. TO. TASTE. IT.”

And that was it! I was guided to the kitchen that was as large as the Kolkata maidan and I had to start baking the pudding. It was ceremonious as music played and people danced around while I was baking it. I then plated it in a gold plate to serve it to Mr. Nomos. I stood there, tensed, hungry butterflies fluttering in my stomach, as I saw him scoop a bite and place it in his mouth. The music stopped, everyone around was quiet. Even the pins refused to drop, lest they might be heard. My heart stopped beating as he closed his eyes, tasted the pudding and then swallowed it down. He then opened his eyes and laughed. A loud wealthy laugh it was. And with him everyone present started laughing too. He called me over and held me warmly in his arms. The music started… the people danced… there was happiness everywhere.

The next day was spent teaching the chefs the recipe. And the next few day I had a holiday of a lifetime in the most beautiful land ever. I was then flown back on the hippogriff. It was kind to me during our return flight. And well, here I am. Blogging again.

And yeah, I wish all of that was true and laziness was not the only reason for me not blogging. But laziness is what it was. And the damn laziness was so bad that I did not even write a birthday post yesterday. I would kick myself in the butt if I was fit enough to do so.

So well, belated birthday wishes to me. This year will see more fun posts here on my blog. Promise.

Also one thing in the story up there was true. I do make the best caramel, bread pudding in the world. :D

See you soon.

The light of our life

His first word was dight (light) when we drove down to Park Street five years ago on a Christmas eve. His first ever word. No mama, no baba. Dight.

He kept saying dight for then next month or two every-time he saw a light. Tube light, candle light, wedding lights, moon light, sun light... Anything that shone was gleefully pointed at and squealed - dight.  And every time he did that our face shone with light too.

Our face lights up with happiness even today when he mentions with great gusto and enthusiasm what a light year implies, and that the sun is about eight light minutes away from the earth.

May the light travel with him always, wherever he goes. Happy birthday, baby. Love you to a million light years and back. 

Don't give up on fishes! They are super!

Vanyllope! The day he came home. Isn't he gorgeous!? 

Last year after we lost Nick, we got a new fish. We got Vanyllope (Named after Ri’s favourite character from Wreck-it-Ralph) on 5^th of December last year. Ri wanted a fish that looked exactly like Nick and Vany did look like him, except for the lovely blue shine that he (yes, Vanyllope is a boy fish) had all over him.

Vany has been a pretty happy fish, blowing bubbles, swimming away. And very soon he won my heart they way Nick had.

Last weekend I noticed him lying at the bottom of his jar. I tapped on the jar; no movement. I moved the jar, no movement again. I noticed that he hadn’t eaten his food either. I thought he died and I was really, really upset. But then I saw him feebly move his fins and swim a bit.

Vany looked different. He had lost all of that beautiful blue shine. He seemed all bloated and his eyes were bulging out.

Have you seen a fish so sad!?

SSM said he wouldn’t live anymore.

Unfortunately we do not have fish doctors around here.

I googled up the symptoms and most of them said that it could either be an infection or the fish was constipated. Well, I couldn’t just sit there and watch Vany die, so I did the sanest thing I could think of. I know, I know, sane and me do not go well together, anyway.

So the first thing was to change the infected water. Then I picked up Vany in a ladle (Poor thing so so unwell that he wasn’t even trying to struggle out of the spoon. I then took some gripe water in a dropper and fed a couple of drops to him. (Non-alcoholic gripe water)

I place him back in the jar with the fresh water and then I added a tiny bit of the powder from a Becosules capsule into the water. Because, well, B-complex = energy. And that is what Vany needed.

That was it. I had tried. Now it was just about waiting and watching. I kept checking on him every few minutes. Nothing. He seemed the same. Ri seemed worried too. He kept saying, that Vany is old and is going to die. He also wrote an entry in his diary about Vany.

Ri's diary entry - 'Vany is not well. She is a grandma now. Vany is old. We had given her gripe water and we had changed the water.' There is a picture of Vany lying on a bed there.

Next morning, first thing, I rushed to check on Vany. He was still down but seemed a little less bloated. Also the water was all hazy. I woke SSM and shouted, “OH MY GOD! Look what’s happening! Vany has been majorly farting hazy stuff!

SSM woke up with a start and screamed back, “WTF! Are you out of your mind”

Well, obviously Vany farting hazy gas was not a big deal for the man.

Anyway, I changed the hazy water again and gave Vany some fresh water. He refused to eat again today. But a few hours later I noticed that he was slowly swimming about a bit and sitting on the V of the plant in the jar to rest before going back to the bottom.

By the day end the bloating had come down.

Started moving about a bit

Next Day Vany was not bloated anymore but the colour was not back yet. No food again

The day after, Vany did eat a bit.

A day later, the shine did come back a bit.

Vany was fine.

He has been fine since the last two day. Eating his food fine. Not yet as active as he used to be. He does not flare his fins either when I show him a finger. Not show him a finger the way you show you finger to idiots. You do not do that to fishes. I mean, when I point a finger to him.

So he does not flare his fins when I do that anymore, yet, but that could just be because he realises now that I am his mommy.  

Three Conversations - One topic - Astronomy it is!

Ri and I are sitting at the dinner table, talking.

Ri: Mama, Mucky mucky is brown and seres is white, right?

Me: Umm, Who are these guys, some characters in a cartoon you have been watching?

Ri: (pause) (hard stare) Mama, they are the other planets in the Solar System!

Me: No, baby. Remember the Sun and the eight planets are what makes the solar system.

Ri: Na, Ma. There are five dorf planets in the solar system, Muckymucky, Seres, Eris, Pluto and Hameya. Also, Mama, It was because of Muckymucky that Pluto had to go out of the solar system.

And also there asteroids between Mars and Jupiter.

He had my attention now. This was new. I had no idea what he was talking about.

Me: Okay, let’s google it. (yeah, kick me hard for not believing him)

I googled for five dorf (turned out to be dwarf) planets, and there they were – Eris, Pluto, Haumea, Makemake, Ceres. And a proud mama I was!

That boy sure makes a wonderful teacher J <3 o:p="">

***

Another time... another conversation...

Ri: Mama, I can't wait to be an astronaut

Me: Well, That is great. Remember, you will have to study a lot to become an astronaut.

Ri: A lot of science?

Me: Yep, a whole lot of science.

Ri: As much as what Baba studies?

Me: Umm... Much more than what Baba studies.

(Pause)

Ri: As much as what Robi Dadu (Rabindranath Tagore) studied.

Me: (smiling) I guess so.

That boy sure has some parameters. :D

SSM was happy when he heard this - He said he feels 'arrived' in life if his son is placing him just below Robi Dadu. (rolls eyes)


***

And yet another time and another conversation.

Ri: Mama, I know what I want to be in life...

Me: And what is it?

Ri: A phuchka wala.

Me: That is lovely, Ri. You can be whatever you want. But I thought you wanted to be an Astronaut.

Ri: Yes.

Me: Then?

Ri: I will be an astronaut. I will go and find Pluto. I will get Pluto back into the Solar System. And then I will sell phuchkas on Pluto.

And that boy sure does have his priorities set right!

Goodnight, buttercup.

As I was putting Ri to bed tonight, after the two favorite bed time stories (Julia and buttercup, and golpoland (made up stories by me)), he said he had a few questions. And these were his questions. (No, I am not getting into the answers. This post is just about the questions.)

When you  grow up will you become an astronaut too because I would want to take you with me in my rocket to Pluto?

Why do astronauts wear helmets on the moon?

How do we breathe?

Why do we have food pipe and wind pipe?

Oxygen and carbon dioxide is funny na... What are lungs?

What is heart?

Why do we have bones?

Why do we have private parts?

Why do women have breast?

When I am 100 years and then a baby again, will I eat breast food from your tummy?

Why do we give my old clothes and half my birthday toys to other children?

Where does money come from?

And then...

Mama do you know who is my favorite best ma’am? More favourite than my school ma'am, it's you!
Love you. Goodnight.

Good night, baby.

Music

We are in the car and the music is on

Ri: Baba, play that Kali song

SSM: Which song?

Ri: Kali song.

SSM: Kali song!?

Me: (to SSM) I did not know that you had Shyama Sangeet (a genre of Bengali devotional songs dedicated to the Hindu goddess Kali) uploaded on the stereo. When did that happen?

SSM: I do not have Shyama Sangeet on the memory stick.

Me: Which Kali song Ri?

Ri: Umm, that Kali song which is on no. 30 (Yeah, he usually remembers the numbers to his favourite songs)

SSM tunes in to no. 30

And the ‘Kali’ song begins…

Masakali Masakali... Udd matakali matakali

K

***

We, as parents are pretty happy with Ri's choice in music. His current favourites are Goonja sa hai koi iktara, Babuji dheere chalna, Meet namila re mann ka and of course Masakali.

The other day he insisted on carrying the memory stick to his grandmas place so that he could listen to the songs there.

J

He is five already.

Let's stay crazy always.

He used to cry when he got annoyed. Now he uses words like 'eeyu', 'yikes', 'yup' and 'nopes'.

He used to stare at me in wonder when I would tell him stories. Now he tells me, "Mama, don't say shit/damn. It's a bad word"

He used to gurgle when I would sing lullabies to him. Now he recognises songs by their prelude.

I used to hold and rock him to pacify his crying. Now he wipes my eyes if he sees me in tears.

Oh, he has grown up. And grown so soon.

He dances to Mama Mia with me. He tells me stories. He sings me songs. He fights with me, he argues.

He tells me, " Mama you've got it wrong. You don't know anything." And then, again, he tells me, "Mama, WOW, you are super"

He crafts with me and works my sewing machine like a pro, almost. (He remembers that I promised him two years ago that he can use my sewing machine when he turns five. He reminded that to me this morning.)

He makes me cry and he makes me laugh. He makes me feel like a goddess, and sometimes a demon. He makes me feel safe and then makes me worry like hell.

But he always has and always will make me feel awesome.

Love you, baby. And a very happy birthday to you.


PS. Please dance with me to Mama Mia always. Or till I turn 92.

Some days are happy and some days are not...

 

That is how I want to remember him always-blowing happy bubbles.

Nick died. 

I reached home on Friday and saw him lying peacefully at the bottom of his jar. He had been with us for almost nine months and, while many would say that he was just a fish, I couldn’t help but cry. I will miss him. He was a good fish, a good friend. I did not want to flush him off but wanted a proper burial for him.

The next morning was spent explaining death to Ri. And when he finally did and realised that Nick will not come back, even if we show him to a doctor like he suggested, he burst into tears saying he loved Nick and he wants him back. I was happy that the kid has his heart in place.

I wrapped Nick in a newspaper and asked SSM to go am bury him. (It is nice of SSM to oblige in spite of not really wanting to) Both Ri and I bid goodbye to him and prayed for him to be happy in fishy heaven. We watched from the veranda as SSM buried him. I shouted out to SSM to put some flowers there. He looked up and did a major eye roll (He was on an eye roll spree that day. I will come to more eye roll bit later) but he is a nice man so he did offer some flowers.

I told Ri that tonight when we all sleep, Nick will become a star and be happy up in the sky. We were fine then.

We decided to spend rest of the day crafting. So I made a kandil (lantern), SSM made a phanush (sky lantern) and Ri helped us with it. He also made a sort of a cardboard man. Cute.

And I did some sewing.

So I made this.

Tell me it looks lovely.

SSM: What is it?

Me: It is a book quilt? Isn’t it nice?

SSM: Erm, yes. Nice. But what exactly is it again?

Me: Sigh! Winters are coming, the books feel cold. They need a quilt too.

SSM: *Eye roll* (See, second time in the day) You got to be kidding me, right?

A warm and happy book

Me: No, I am serious. See, doesn’t the book look warm and cosy?

SSM: *Deep breath* Will you ever stop being crazy?

Me: What? This is an awesome creation, okay? And beside keeping the book warm, it has many other advantages.

SSM: Like?

Me: Like when I want to hide from people the book that I am reading.

SSM: Okaaaay. And why would you want to do that?

Me: Because people might want to steal it

SSM: *raised eyebrows* Yes?

Me: Or because I might be reading porn or worse, Durjoy Dutta. I wouldn’t want people to know that, right?

SSM: You know you are never going to use that thing, right?

Me: YOU ARE WRONG. I am going to read every book in that quilt for the rest of my life.

SSM: *Eye roll. Again.*

Because everyone needs a quilt

Please someone tell him that EVERYONE needs a quilt!

***

I miss Nick. :(

A memory and a dream. Both unrelated and weird. Because I am fighting a blogger's block.

This post is just a memory flash –

Sourced from the internet.

The first ever audio cassette that I owned as a kid was Mr. India. All the other cassettes belongs to my father or my sister. And then on my 7th birthday, my sister gifted me with Mr. India. Oh, I played it in loop that day and for many more days. I sang. 'bijli ki raani main hu aayi' instead of bijli giraane mai hoon aayi' (They both make sense) and I blushed ever time 'kaante nahi katate... I love you' played because that was almost equal to porn for an innocent seven year old, born in the 80's.

Sourced from the internet. Of course

The first ever video cassette that I owned as a kid was 'Maine Pyaar Kiya'. This time, it was not a gift. I stole it from the local video library. No, I did not go one night, break the glass with a stone, enter in and rob it. That would have been cool. But I just borrowed it and never returned it. (Yeah, I have done that with library books too. Come on, everyone does that with library books.)

I was down with chicken pox as an eleven year old and the only memory that I have of the quarantine is having read Heidi and watching Maine Pyaar Kiya every single day. Every. Single. Day. (The movie. I did not read Heidi every single day. That is not possible for a slow reader like me) I mouthed every dialogue with action and expressions. Even today if ever I come across Maine Pyaar Kiya while shuffling through the television channels, I immediately stop to watch it and my lips move with the dialogues.

Maine Pyaar Kiya remains and will remain my favourite movie ever. And well, Salman… Sigh!

***

The rest of this post is a weird dream (Rarely do I remember a dream but this was so weird and sort of sweet that I could recall it clearly the next morning) -

Nick blowing happy bubbles

Remember Nick? Well, I dreamt that Ri had a fork in his hand and he shove that in Nick’s jar, piercing Nick. So Nick was dying and I see him fly out of the jar towards me. He lands on my palm and I pet him and tell him that he will live.

I put him back in the jar suddenly the room is filled with all sorts of flying fishes and Winnie the Pooh characters. The all start singing a weird song in and extremely high pitched voice. All together.

Suddenly I see Nick coming back to life, swimming. I was happy. He was happy. But then he started growing at an alarming rate. I saw him turn into a merman. A horrible looking merman-red tail and a green moustache. He couldn’t fit into jar anymore. He was struggling to stay inside. Finally the jar shattered and Nick the merman emerged out. The other fishes and characters vanished.

I ran to him and hugged him. I told him that I was so happy he was alive... but that he can’t live with me anymore because I did not have a jar big enough to accommodate him. He had to go back to the sea.

I handed a huge saucepan filled with water to Nick so that he could duck his head into it and breathe. (Yeah, I know the gills need to go in too but the ‘me’ in the dream did not think of it.)

Anyway. I then took him to the sea (to chowpatty :/) and let him go.

I then woke up sweating and fretting about the fact that Nick had always lived in 'aquaguard' water, what if the sea killed him!

***

If you are wondering why I wrote such a random post today, it is because someone told me to just write whatever comes to mind because that is the only way to fight a blogger’s block.

If you are wondering why I wrote two totally unrelated write ups, it is because I was lazy to write them in two different posts.

***

I just feel better today.

Introducing Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington aka Nearly Finless Nick

Ri and I had gone shopping together last weekend. SSM was going to pick us up on his way back from the hospital where my Mother - in - law was admitted. (She is fine now, thanks for asking)

This meant that Ri and I had ample time to shop without being hurried up. So all the shopping from the grocery list was done and more and then we went to the alley where they sell fish and meat. Apparently they also sell live fishes and there, in one of the tanks, floating in a plastic pouch with water just enough to cover him, was Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington.

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington in a tiny pouch

I immediately felt sorry for him and Ri fell in love with him. So we had no option but to adopt him. After all he deserved better than that tiny pouch. See how sad he looks in there. He also seemed to have a rip in his fin. (Though the guy at the store did not agree to that bit about the rip and insisted that the fin is perfect and this is how it look, I refused to believe them.)

When SSM came to pick us up and saw Nick in the pouch his immediate reaction was - that fish is not going to live till we get home. And I said, do not call him that fish. He has got a name - call him Sir Nicolas or Nick. Though I do not think that you deserve to call him Nick. You are not on first name basis with him yet. As a reaction, SSM rolled his eyes, which Ri and I were only happy to ignore.

We also had a conversation that reminded me of this post.

At home, in the jar - Nick is as happy as he can be. He loves it there. He loves playing around the roots of the money plant there. He also goes and sits on a root that forms a loop in there. And goes around it.

See how he get into the root loop and comes out from the other side. That is his favourite play.

SSM said that fighter fishes react violently when they see their own reflection in a mirror. I told him that Nick is no usual fighter. He is a calm happy fish and that SSM should not even try to agitate him with a mirror.

But SSM being SSM, he did get a mirror and kept showing it to Nick. And. Nick. Did. Not. React. Ha!

See how happy he is and how lovely his colour is.

SSM then said that Nick is either blind or loony. And I told SSM that if there is anyone loony in this house, it is him... so he better not say a word against Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington.

That happy feeling - Thank heavens for lovely friends

When you have had the worse time going on for you for the longest time ever... You just have to wake up one morning and say to yourself - ENOUGH! You have had enough of painful time and now things are going to be just fine. You are going to be alright from now on...

And then, happiness does happen. It works! You have to to just push yourself out of bed and say with confidence that life will be okay.

I did it and I already see it happening. This.

Today I posted this picture of mine on Facebook -

I got a whole lot of lovely comments. And one of them was from my crazy friend - Disha. It said -
I feel i can use this pic for a short story subject, can make so many of them .. its so interesting that .. it is pushing me to write.. so many layers in a single pic. so u might get ur inbox flooded with a series of short stories based on this one pic.

And then an hour later this lovely little tale hit my inbox making me feel extremely special and happy-

***

Freckles, spectacles &  a pretty wedding ring , the only priced possessions she knew she had. This is what set her apart, she believed.

Fickle Fickle grew up loving almost every thing around her. While still she had not hit her teens, she was drawn towards the language and culture of the eastern world. She could knit and sew. She would tame all the stray dogs and could cook fish. 

Fickle Fickle has 2 siblings :Chuckle Trouble and Pale Pigtail. 

Zombies & Tombs was their all time favourite games.The rules of the game were simple. 

Rule #1: Stay away from the Zombie

Rule # 2 : Sit in the tomb, when you don't follow Rule #1 

They would climb the trees, jump in to the lake and eat all the wild berries. Childhood was spent making tents from fishnets, bed covers.. and once she learnt quilting , she had her one if its kind quilted tent. 

The tent was called : The Fickle Fortress 

Years passed by drenched in passion with  the ways of the Eastern World. Fickle Fickle met the Snow Man of the Eastern world. 

Snow Man could draw and sketch. He had a dog who could fetch. He could sing lullabies and was like the Broadway artist who could enthrall a crowd with his breath taking voice.

The Inevitable happened. 

Snowman saw fickle fickle and felt a funny tickle. He knew he wanted her and only her.

But what no one ever knew this about Fickle Fickle was that she was not from this World. She was the Zombie who could put people to tomb. Whoever kissed her pink nails inevitably slid in to their graves. 

Fickle Fickle quilted a pair of mittens , no one dies in this story, as the story was just about a fickle headed miss fickle fickle. 

***

Thanks, Disha - this really made my day! It made me so happy! (In spite of India playing horrible cricket today)