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Meet the three angels of my life..

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“Once you have had a wonderful dog, a life without one, is a life diminished.” -  Dean Koontz   Whitey This gorgeous boy, now running free across the rainbow bridge, was a free-spirited, aggressive dog adopted from the streets by my husband. Whitey grudgingly accepted me into his life.  My first ever pet, he filled my life with sheer joy and  taught me some of the finest lessons in life, most important being that of acceptance. In the short time he was with me, he became a brother, friend and a faithful protector.  One of the toughest days of my life was the day Whitey crossed the rainbow bridge. Pepsi A little angel born on the streets who we have been lucky to have as a part of our home and family. It has been a year this month that she crossed the rainbow bridge,  well before her time,  to run pain-free and happy with her friends, waiting for us to reunite again with in time. This docile and delicate little furball was full of energy and a happy cuddler. She is most definitely the m
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Bringing home a pet for your kids

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Growing up, I always wanted a pet. But our constantly changing cities deterred my parents from letting us have one. So, when I got married, I was ecstatic to move into my new home with my husband and his Indy (Indian stray) boy, Whitey. We did not know how old Whitey was, but we estimated him to be about 7 or 8 years old. He was a hefty thing, and had a really loud and scary bark! It took time for Whitey and me to become friends. Standing in the way, apart from his scary persona and fearful stories of his past was my personal fear of dogs. That's right, I always wanted one of my own, but I was scared of approaching and petting them. But that is a thing of the past. Now I can walk up to any dog, pet or stray, one who is keen to meet humans, and make friends with them. Looking back, I attribute my fears to my lack of understanding of dogs and their behaviour. I remember the first few months, I was scared to pet him on the head if my husband was not home. If I left the room
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A Lost Friendship

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Sometimes life is a constant battle with nostalgia of a time that can't be real again!  Memories linger and remind me of the secrets and smiles we shared.  That was a carefree and happy time,  Where we were unaware of the upcoming twists and turns  And the miles of separation that destiny had in store for us. I have sweet memories of us.  Walking hand in hand, off to to play basketball..  Learning lessons on and off the court.  I still think of the times of us sharing and caring and innocently loving,  I believed then that it would last a lifetime.  To this day I  treasure the little gifts that we exchanged with our meagre pocket moneys.  We dreamed so many dreams for us,  Of our lives and of changing the world together.  The dreams have been modified with reality, and  life is not exactly as we planned it to be,  Yet I hope yours is close enough to your dreams.  Today, it is not the memories that hurt..  But the realisation that there shall be no more. For in the short time I s
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Invasion of Privacy

A recent article I read about the well meaning neighbourhood aunties who feel it is their rightful duty to advise young couples on the right time to have children got me thinking. I am well familiar with these nosey neighbours and have had my share of uncomfortable conversations. Not so recently married and still without an issue, I am often rudely and directly reminded of my perceived purpose of existence. Many a people from the reliable house help to the well wishing aunty from next door remind me how I need a child to be complete. Some have even directly told me that I need to have a child for my grandmother-in-law would need a companion to play with in her 90's. The irony of which is that grandmom was one of the first people who warned me against such advise. She had laughed and told me a year after my marriage that there would be lots of family, friends and acquaintances who would advise me to start a family now and that I must pay no heed to them. In her view, honeymoon babi
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My biggest fear came true!

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It was a tough decision to make, and I often felt selfish for wanting it as much as I did, for only 2 years had passed since mom had her mastectomy. But what helped was the support and encouragement that I got from her. She seemed more excited about the whole thing than me. She would spend hours researching the university, the city, it's weather, foods to try, places to see, things one might need to carry while living abroad, you name it, she had researched it! I think she wanted this for me more than I wanted it for myself. And that made the decision easier. So, I accepted the offer and packed my bags, ready to leave! Mom has always been my role model, my rock. She is the kind of woman who never shed a tear. Through the toughest of life's battles, she fought on without a worry. Through the course of her treatment, she was the one who kept the whole family strong and functioning. To her, it was a simple process, to cross one bridge at a time. There was no point sitting and wor
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Kanyadaan - Giving away a daughter

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"Kanyadaan" literally translating to "donating a girl or maiden" is an integral part of the Indian marriage ceremony. It is the handing over of the rights and duties of a girl by her parents to the groom and his family. Wikipedia describes it as the "gift of a maiden or a virgin". It is a highly valued custom. One through which the parents of the bride are believed to be relieved of their worldly sins. As per Indian customs, the groom is a form of Lord Vishnu, and thus, presenting him with their most cherished gift is seen as a matter of great honour for the bride's parents. (Of course, one can hardly miss the irony, looking at the number of cases of female infanticide this country has!) Actually, in almost all cultures, giving away of the bride by the father is an intrinsic part of a wedding. Although, I would like to naively believe it has originated from the special bond that all daughters have with their parents, especially fathers, I know it has
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Forgotten Love

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She was the apple of her parent's eye. A polite, shy, soft-spoken girl whose only friends were her novels and painting brushes. One could find her spending most of her free time in a world of her own, the only mirror to her world - her paintings, which seemed as complex and difficult to interpret as their creator. So when she finished college and started working freelance as an artist, her parents thought it was time to find a prince charming for their beautiful little Diya, the light of their lives. However heartbreaking the thought, they always knew that one day they had to give their little princess away to a bright young man, one who would treat her as tenderly as her parents did. That was their dream for their little girl. And thus the hunt began. As was common in their community, relatives were informed to find the right match for Diya. Her parents, Rajan and Kavita, gave relatives a brief of what they hoped for in a son-in-law, each time emphasising how gentle and delicate
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