Words, in my world

As a kid, I never knew I love words so much, I love languages so much. Neither of my parents write and none of them are too much into creating a web of words as well. My mother reads a lot or rather I should put it in a different matter, she used to read a lot. Though nothing comes in comparison for my craziness for books, words or languages.

They say a skill (Actually, not a skill but the talent) can skip a generation. Well for me, my grand mother (Dadi) was (To some extent my grand father too, atleast in creation of a small library) was a  soul of the bookish world. The small library kind of  a set up at my old home (Old, yeah old), full of books with yellow old pages is a biggest gift from them, I feel. Another interest managed to skip two generations - My grand grand father was a Sanskrit, English and Gujarati literature professor with a brilliant career track of guiding many many students for PhD in languages-history related subjects and the creator of one of its kind Sanskrit -English-Sanskrit dictionary. There is a bag of articles written by him some where in that library, some pages are so so so  old that I fear holding them might destroy their existence only. I have them with myself as a heritage of my family, which is a matter of immense proud for me. I am not even near by what he was when it comes to him talent/career/fame , but I guess the joy of creating a string of words make me much more warm and I love the cozy world of words, may be like him?

Words I feel, are warm. There is this soothing feelings when words sputter out of my mind/heart and I script them down on the screen of a laptop. The empty space in that mind then, is nothing but peace. The burden goes off and even when the value of the particular paragraph is nothing than a big zero literature wise or even language wise, it gives me calmness which is priceless.

Numb and alive!

The lump in your throat is going no where. You feel as if some body has gripped your neck to death. Your voice is suppressed in your throat with some gazillion tons of load. You try to breath and the nose refused to suck Oxygen into your body. You open your mouth and lungs refuse to pump up.

You fear if you will be alive after ten minutes or not.

Your eyes are loosing the sight due to the pain increasing exponentially in the lower portion of the face.

Well,

Nobody has tried to murder me guys and girls. Neither it is a nightmare nor it is a plot of some thriller.

The pain is brought to me by the cold I have caught.

*Cough Cough Cough*

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A pile of clothes on the bed, those 10-15 books we read or we have to read on the sofa, those bowls and dishes on dining table after breakfast were smiling at me.

I was numb. Reluctant to leave that blanket and I closed my eyes again to get launched in the lovely world of sleepy souls.

Did I mention I still get dreams of India's MOM after two days of the success- May be I am from Mars.

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Many times I was stopped by the fatigue in my mind and body to not to write a post and publish it on my blog. I can not get more numb than this.

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Right from Deepika-TOI controversy, MOM, women scientists rejoicing over the success and The Indian Prime Minister witnessing the orbit shifting-placing of the Indian Mars craft, 'Make in India' campaign, the Garba deprived soul of mine - I have my own thoughts about everything being served on my platter. I have some gazillion curses for myself for not being able to be in Ahmedabad or Mumbai at least during Navratri. I am penning down none. May be I should better get back to life and kick type.

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In the almost life-less, cough-ridden world of mine, there is one thing which gives me warmth, love and relief for half and hour or so.

A cup of Indian Masala - Ginger-Pepper-Basil-clove-Cinnamon tea. Yeah, please crush all the herbs possibly residing in your home with ginger and get yourself a nice boiled cup of tea. You are free from the sorrow of the horrible cold for half and hour.

Numb and yet alive!

:-)

Happy realization - September!

• Grocery list is an open document. By the time you finish every specific thing you wanted for the home and the kitchen, the new month pops up with new requirements. 
• When everything around you becomes dynamic, you tend to become static. Hence numb. People around me having tough time handling my stubbornness. 
• The amount of coffee consumption is directly proportional to the multiplication of bored moments and hectic projects. It sounds weird but I get both in a day's time. 
• The tea time at home gives me peace. I stir the piece of mind which runs too fast in the tea and gulp it down. I bet every one who loves tea feels the same.
• The maids have boomerang characteristics, more you ask to come early, more they come late. Amazing thing is they can convince every day about her early arrival for the next day. I am taking her (one of them) in my negotiation session next week.
• In lunch hour, if you work, you are punished to hear conversation of mommies talking to their kids on phone in the language which can be only deciphered with focus more than studies for board exams. It becomes much entertaining  irritating when you realize the person on the other end of the phone is not his or her kid, but his or her spouse. Seriously? Matured people?
• People who are android supporters and people who are apple supporters (with a small bunch supporting Nokia as well) act as they were those people who created riots in Ahmedabad after Godhara incident.
• The hunger which I fear becomes violent by the time I would reach to the food in the canteen, dies a tragic death when I see the food. That bad.
• The last quarter of the year is actually the third quarter of the financial year in India. Which means you have to save money for investment with some seriousness. Only if all members of my family would not have destined to take birth on this planet in the same time frame.
• I do not know why people send hoax messages warning against X Y and Z things we use or we see in daily life without verifying it with concern authorities. I have realized even if you ask them not to do this next time, people get fooled and spread panic attacks. Contagious they are. 

Just some titbits straight from my heart mind!

He who manages the tough girl!

Dear Mr.ISB,

It has been almost 30*3=90 days we have spent as a couple! Ah, Married couple. (Okay, I am not counting our business trips to several Indian cities!) Living under one roof, without any body else at home, with two new jobs in hands, we are managing pretty well, ah?

I am amazed how we have graduated from walking outside your office to walking in the colony where we stay! I am amazed how we have not killed each other when differences appear every now and then. I am amazed how we can spend hours sharing our knowledge and interest, right from war and spy movies, mythology, history, strategies and well to - Bollywood! Is that all we have in common?!I guess so.

Your way of living messy and my way of being a cleanliness freak, your way of bifurcating wet clothes and towels from dried -ironed clothes, and my way of not mixing them in the first place! We are 'poles apart' and 'we are as different as a chalk and cheese !' - These statement are under statements , if you know what I mean.

I have been suffering from 'Why am I so different from other brides' complex, when after three months people see me and say, Oh my god, you have not changed at all after the wedding. While I dislike wearing Mangal sutra or any chain in my neck for that matter, while I skate on my formal shoes for a few seconds while catching up the elevator near the lobby, while I  laugh like a monster when I tease people - They find I have not graduated from my bachelor self to the so called married self. The credit goes to you. I have never faced such a strong headed discouragement in changing myself for people around me. Yeah, you demotivare me and that is the best thing about you.The fact that you continue being with me after all those fire statements showered on you, makes me feel so happy!

Getting lectures on my carelessness for my own health which I hate, is something I love about you. Whatever heck it means but I love you for that exactly after 2345 hours of the showered hatred, as it is good for me. Only people who love me can do this, they don't get killed in real.

When I lecture you for keeping house neat which drains my energy, I still love your messy -care free nature as if given the choice (and a full time maid) I would be the same. I love the careless nature as much I love you in the  messy (not properly brushed) hair. I love the look, I swear.

I love the way you get installed in a laptop while working or watching some geeky sitcoms, as I do the same while reading a book.

 I love the fact that a person who never cared to have a cup of tea in the evening, has started on with green tea in the balcony with me - just as it has been my dream to spend time with some of my favorite things and people together at one time.

I love the way you stand in front of me while I wash utensils when maid is not there, just because in that frustrated moment I asked you to help me with it, without any other instruction.

I love the way you make a blanket cover on shivering wife of yours, just because I said my dad did it for me all my life and now I am married, I miss it.

I love the way you brought Panipuris for me on the first month anniversary, as you know Panipuri is as holy as nectar for me!

I never told you this but thank you for letting me be what I am and what I want to be. Thank you for going out of the way, every time when I needed your help knowingly or unknowingly. Thank you for making me feel special after every fight! :D

If you do not read this in next 24 hours, you owe me a really big Dairy Milk Silk with Almonds, a Panipuri treat and 3 books of my choice. As I tole you, you do a pretty good job of handling Bubblegum, you can do this too! ;-)

Thank you!

Yours,

Bubblegum!