Kissaa Kahaani

January 9, 2014

There Shall be Showers of Blessing…

Filed under: The Unadulterated Magic — MK @ 6:25 pm
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And yes, the showers have been bestowed…. to be precise, bestowed almost five months back and its still showering!

More than one year back, I realized that I am not alone anymore- physically, emotionally, in my thought… there is someone… occupying me, my thought… I was pregnant. I wont lie, I was so scared, so unsure… doubtful. Would I be able to afford having a baby now- doctors, delivery costs, hospitals, medicines, supplements? Am I ready to put my career on hold- even for teeny weeny while? Am I mentally prepared to be a parent? Am I ready to take on the responsibility of a new human being? Am I prepared to change and shift my priorities? Will I be clumsy with the baby too? Will I make a mistake and would not know how to take care of the little one? Would I harm the baby? And as I pondered, I knew that this is the most natural thing that could have happened and that this is the most special blessing I am bestowed with. I called this conception, Serendipity. Sweet Accident.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months… and the growth of my darling was visible- my tummy swelled up, wardrobe size changes, eating habit and lifestyle took a turn for better and healthier, kicks, tiny kicks made my heart go pitter patter. My Child was already born, the day I conceived. ANd that was also the day when I was born. As a mother.

Every visit to doctor and USG technicians made me happy. Being blessed with no-nonsense smooth pregnancy (yes- no morning sickness, no midnight cravings, no dizziness, no tiredness)

It is so strange that those 9 months flew by… and came the day when I got to see and touch that wonder! Pain can be beautiful, pain can be worthwhile, pain can be wonderful! After 6 hours of labor, when this baby popped out of me, the pain did not matter! Enduring this made me even more stronger as a woman, as a person, as a human being. More tolerant, more patient. And the first time, I touched those little feet… the baby who was inside my tummy was in my arms now… oh! the baby I carried for 9 months was here, visible, and screaming at the top of his lungs, scrunched up red little face, upturned nose, bow shaped lips, tiny tight fists and those stretched out tiny little toes… my 4 kgs bundle of Joy was here! Its a miracle, how much a mother sees and observes in her dazed state- i counted all the toes, held him, and slept. I always knew that I will have a son. He is my Kishna. 

Since then, everyday is an adventure! Everyday there is something new. Everyday I experience showers of blessing. That toothless gummy chubby beautifully amazingly mesmerizing smile, that wonderfully big curious eyes, those hands reaching out to people, that angry scream, that constant feet movements, that tossing and turning in sleep, that smile while having milk, that constant blabber in some out-worldly language, wetting of diapers and everyone else, poops, everything….  Pain, as I said, is worthwhile. Pain, of leaving him behind daily for 9 hours while I go to work,  pays its returns when i go back and wrap him in my arms, pays it when i see that wonderful welcoming smile on his face…. 

Words are just that- words. Mere alphabets, just a way to communicate, words are not a way to emote… What I feel, what I have become, what I can do for this baby is incomprehensible, indescribable…. 

For me, the life changed and it keeps on changing- minute by minute, day by day… life changes as my baby changes from an infant towards a toddler, life will change as he grows… Life changes, when we try not to make mistakes anymore, Life changes as we try to infuse more positive attitude, life changes as we try to make amends for past mistakes, life changes as we look ahead… 

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April 17, 2013

Why Do I Love Malls!!!

I love malls. I love being there. It’s a colorful menagerie, vibrancy, people, life and what not! The lives in malls are always on move! And why do I love malls?? The other day I went to one such grand mall with my husband for dinner – allow me to narrate the beautiful sights I witnessed there, and you would know why love malls!

The moment we entered we were greeted with a welcome chaos, an organized anarchy. People skipping the queue for security check, being a weekend the whole place was crowded. I saw a daughter-in-law in traditional garbs, covering her head with pallu and her mother-in-law guiding her on the escalator. I saw a young pretty person in hot pants and hand-in-hand with her companion who was leaning in to whisper sweet nothings on the same escalator. I saw a tiny boy, scared and curious at the same time, he was trying to step on the escalator, cheered on by his father. The lad was soooo happy that when he actually stepped on the mechanical moving staircase,  his face reflected the victorious emotions as if he was the winner of the Mumbai Marathon! His father was equally proud when his miniature version turned and triumphantly shouted, “Dadda! I made it.”

And on the third floor, while sitting and whiling away time, we saw a super cute scene! A little girl (may be little more than 2 years old) was harassing her father. Let me try and recount the conversation verbatim.

Daughter to Dad, “Daddy I wanna ride a horse!” “No Kiddo, there are no horses in this mall, we will ride horse some other time.” Dad cajoled. With a tearful scowl and pouted lower lips, the daughter insists that she doesn’t care, “Be my horse no daddy! Juss for two minnets ride! Pleeeze, puhleeez, puhleez Daddy.” A resigned sigh resonated from the Dad’s throat and also the soft muttering, “You little blackmailing toddler, you take after your mother!” and then loudly, “Okies, common, just two minutes and no more!” The exuberance on the face of that little manipulative girl was a wonderful sight, she was jumping and skipping and laughing and finally the dad went down on his knees put the daughter on his back and was then on all fours. The horse and the rider started the chanting, “Chal mere ghode tic tic tic!” The two minutes went on to 10 minutes and both were unaware of the stares, smirks, wistful smiles and laughter of the fellow mall-goers.

As we sat down to have a pure vegetarian Rajasthani dinner (I somehow had the craving only for the vegetarian that day, though my husband believes that a Restaurant not having any chicken dish in the menu  is not worth being called a restaurant) and in come five, no. Ten, no. Thirteen people to have dinner. A Traditional Rajasthani family. Women in ghoonghat and men in kurtas and pagdis. Four tables were joined together and women sat near the wall, kids in between and then the menfolk.  The dinner commenced and criticism too. Eldest lady says, “I cook better, they call this Rajasthani Thali! I told you all not to waste money”.

A stroll to a home furniture store brought even more smiles.  Beautiful furniture assembled together to give a feel of one’s future dream home. Beds and sofas and dining tables and couches and night stands and kitchenware and furnishings. As we ooh-ed and aah-ed over various pieces, I saw one more couple doing the same in front of a display bedroom. They were looking at the stuff presented beautifully and I could see the beautiful desire in the guy’s eyes and dream in girl’s.

Yes I love malls. They sell not the merchandise but the dreams, the ambitions. Malls are not just a market place, an assembly of random shops; it’s a place where parents buy wedding trousseaus for their daughters. Malls are places where boyfriends buy a ring and propose to girlfriends. Malls are places where housewives escape cooking for a day and enjoy. Malls are place where break ups happen and make-ups happen. Malls are places where kids see the whole range of diverse colors- good and bad- and learn. I love malls, because I get to see so much of life there. I love malls, because I see so many emotions fleeting on the faces of mall-goers. I also love malls because I get to empty my husband’s pocket there!

April 9, 2013

Silent Wounds

Filed under: The Unadulterated Magic — MK @ 10:08 am
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It was just before dusk and I was enjoying the nature, sitting on the cold bench looking in to the Powai Lake. The traffic was on its peak on the road behind me and in front of me there serene peacefulness. Surprisingly the lake, which is generally crowded by teen couples looking for secluded corners to steal a kiss and feel some bumps and valleys, was almost empty today. That is when I noticed her.

That girl, sitting on the cold bench, was staring at the lake with her big eyes. The way she was looking at the lake caught my attention. I could see her fine nose, a little bit up, smelling the combined mix of city pollution and lake air. I could see her long and curled eye lashes from the distance of 2 and half meters, the pulse on her long neck, hands clasping the bench… she was leaning forward and was lost in deep thought. She was not exactly beautiful, but she was tall and her features were attractive, may be she felt my intent stare and turned towards me. With a slight smile and nod of her head she turned back again to her muse.

The darkness was covering the sky. The birds were returning home. The eagerness was visible in their chirping. The Lake had a couple of boats; the sides were covered in bright green moss and the lights from distant high-rise buildings on the other side of the lake were making an interesting pattern in the water.

She was still staring into the lake. No expression, no happiness, no sadness, nothing. There was something in her stance which drew my attention back and again to her. I tried to imagine what it was that made her so contemplative.

May be she was in love and was afraid whenever he uttered the words of endearments, she was afraid whenever he proclaimed that he loved her… she was afraid that his words and his feeling would be carried away by the wind before it could even reach her. And maybe she preferred his touch to his words….

Might be her fears came true and the wind finally carried him away… Might be he left her and now she was alone. To face the world, its unpleasantness. No one to shield her against that cruel wind… And here she must be wondering where she went wrong. She must be thinking what upturned her world threw it against the unbreakable brick wall. Smash!

She must be thinking about him, where he is now. He must be gone, he must be shielding someone else against the wind, his words must be adorning someone else’s ears and his arms must be giving solace to some other delicate heart. He must have chosen to move away, without acknowledgement to the time they spent together. He must have chosen to turn his back on the shared moments without even a goodbye. He must have decided to tear her heart away and light up else’s life. And sitting here she must be feeling stranded.

I picked up my bag and walked to reach the lake shore. A few inches from it, I stopped. I turned to see the girl. She was now standing. A few steps away from the bench. Her shoulder length ebony hair and dupatta were caught in the cold wind. Just one thing bothered me, tears.

I saw tears on her cheeks and I saw sadness. I saw the tears sliding and falling to the earth and being absorbed. But her sadness was still prominent.

I was still there, watching her, wondering if anyone would ever be able to heal her wounded angry heart.

April 4, 2011

A Beautiful Story

I read this story a long long time back; years ago. I don’t even remember the author. The story was in Hindi. And I don’t remember much, I just remember the gist. I will try to present this story in my own way, since I don’t remember the characters’ names; I am using my own way here… Bless me.

There was a rumor (or was it a rumor?), that the village graveyard had a unique scent to it since last week, as if someone has put incense stick which was divine. The source of the fragrance??? No one knows, they just know that it was her grave which had this pious feel to it.

So much so was the effect of the scent that slowly and slowly, the whole village seemed to be washed in that scent. The Trees were scented, so was the fruits; the fragrance of the flowers were lost and instead these buds also had this divine scent, the rotis which amma cooked, and the sevai– everything smelled like that. And when wives swept the floor and their chunni’s slipped by, their bodies had that beautiful fragrance. The water in the Village well had that fragrant, and that laughter of the girls had that sweet essence as well. And when mothers hugged their babies, there was no baby smell- instead there was that redolence… Not a single person, not a single object retained their own fragrance, they were now one- the scent of that grave united them.

Days passed by and the fragrance increased in intensity. They wondered what her husband; Nadeem has to say about the whole scenario. And Nadeem’s soul was tortured over the happenings. He was sick, high with fever and lying on his cot, oscillating between past and present. His mind took him 21 years back when he first saw her; she was an angel, a fairy- so beautiful. And so many handsome people courted her. He, being of ordinary looks knew that he has no chances. His bhabhi saw him staring at her and asked if he would like to marry that girl, she is a relation only, two cousins removed. Nadeem was skeptical; he said that a girl so beautiful can never be a good wife. She will be flocked by the guys and she might be tempted to have an extramarital affair. But his sister-in-law and mother knew that his heart was set on her and they knew that the girl was virtuous. And with-in a fortnight Nadeem was wedded to her.

Was he lucky or was he lucky, the girl devoted her everything to Nadeem. Nadeem became her God, her Khuda, once she entered his home, she never bared even her nails to another man; she dedicated her being to him. Such selfless love, such unconditional love. And he was not even a good looking man. They said that she had a fault. She was Baanjh, barren. She could not bear him a child. Her mother-in-law said that her beauty, her virtue is of no use, she is fruitless. She never talked back, never retorted.

And after a journey of 21 years, she left him; she finally left that dull life she had. And she departed to the Home of God. She died peacefully in her sleep. And since then, Nadeem was never himself. He could not bear her death and was sick now all the time. Today, he was missing more so.

Syed came to meet Nadeem, he was curious as to what was the reason that Nadeem’s wife’s grave was so fragrant. He was not the only one curious. Whole village was. Syed was there to tell him that Village elders have decided to go to the root of the situation and with required permissions and authority they are going to dig her grave. Nadeem was out of his mind, how dare they disturb his beloved!!! He ran past Syed to protect her resting place, but by that time, it was too late. People were standing around the open, dug grave and some wiping tears, some praising Allah, some simply in shock- looking at what was inside. She lay as peacefully in the cradle of earth, as if she was a princess having her beauty sleep. One month ago she was buried, but there was no tell tale sign of that, she was 42 at the time of her death and she looked 18 in her grave. Wonder of wonders!! A most exquisite, most beautiful flower was sprouting from her mouth. And that was the source of the divine scent. People, apologized to Nadeem and to the departed one, covered back her grave and one by one left the graveyard. Nadeem who was shell-shocked remained their and remained there. And suddenly he broke down and wept and wept. The inhuman howl which he let out, forced Syed to run back to him, who held him and consoled him.

Once Nadeem was calm enough, he told Syed, that his wife was Goddess and Allah wanted her to be acknowledged as such and that’s why this divine intervention. As Nadeem said, “You see, she was with me for 21 years, and she was most beautiful one, she could have had anyone she wanted. But she remained with me, she never cursed her life, she never did raise her voice, she never strayed, she never complained. Syed, I was born impotent and remained so throughout her life and will remain so throughout my life”

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