Wait,just because he is been successful housearresting eternal happiness(khushi) he can't underestimate me by remaining unaware of what damages I could bring upon his blog due to his wrong assessments..can he?
No,I'm not here to rant off my displeasures...but to put an end to it by posting in this blog as and when I login here!!!
Wow that bouncer sounds intimidating and ambitious for a first timer huh? Well I have the quest to think out of box(no pun intended). With too many wise geeks thinking out of box these days worried if there is any more space left outside the box? Okay! As a matter of fact, its not my cup of tea to tackle extraordinary things so I keep myself pleased with and confined to what goes on inside a box. Albeit,I understand some sane ordinary stuffs in insanely extraordinary ways. I believe profound understanding of events that unfolds in our daily life can be either deliriously harmful or inncocuosly soothing providing bunch of jig and comfort to our worn out souls. Someone has rightly compared good living to an art,one of its keys being,the art of perception and perseverance, which helps us engrave our surroundings,relations and people to accommodate a beautiful masterpiece everyday into life's gallery. Nevertheless few shady grey ones only adds up to its completeness.
There is a beauty in everything even in unfavoury moments we face,a beauty which brings about happiness in individuals,only few people are capable of comprehending and accepting,those "happy individuals" need not be "them" always. Recently a broken friend of mine said books are her good companions as they never leave her alone. I second her opinion but not the tone in which it was conveyed. Good books helps mould good humans,yet i would still vouch,the best companions are people,even if they walk out of our lives they have "reasons" , valid or invalid are purely circumstantial based and individualistic However one shouldn't refrain oneself from knowing and welcoming it. Afterall,its people who write books and not vice versa. I normally fill up my hobby column,with "reading people". It is believed to be a cultivated art,ever since I have been juggling with it,it has enlightened me with one of life's ignored truth, 'There are billions of worthy books unwritten!!'
Before my thoughts wandered further aimlessly and I type them all....the clock has striked 12...and reminded its a new day,May 2nd. There is something special about today,my dearest mamma's 52nd birthday. As a kid I hated plain milk it had to have right amount of sugar sprinkled. Years have passed swifter than winds I still prefer my milk over tea but without sugar. Only the rawness and sole property of the liquid triggers my taste buds now,the sugar an extra,has lost its much importance in the long run. At times i sit on my terrace gazing through infinity letting myself with multiple thoughts to struggle and resolve. One such,kept me haunted for long,was,"what is that thing which makes my father a father and not a mother". It dint carry an adamancy to bifurcate my parents,rather a quest to see them as uniquely special. Having heard and read a lot of definitions on mother and father i felt awefully dull to have never elicited a reasonable one in my living. Particularly when people emphasized the words like "a mother's heart"...I stayed perplexed of what that actually meant? For one,I only was aware of "parents heart"! Infact i had almost digested my incapabilities of ever seeing them uniquely,because my papaa loves me as much as my mamma does. He is kind caring he has made innumerable sacrifices churned himself up for his family and people. He has been there like a steady wall much befor i let out a call. Even to this day,he wakes up at midnight when I cry with fear,he stays up until I sleep. He milks ma neighbours cat he cooks for us when mom is away he is helpful sincere dedicated and compassionate. He is everything what my mother is to me. He is my guru,he is my role model. Last year when pappa had a minor operation on his neck I overheard him uttering to mamma,"My kids are pestered with me on bed for two days and you having to stay back in hospital nursing me instead of taking care of them" with eyes blurred with moistness. How lucky i am to have him(touchwood) but despite all the affection he pours i wanted to know "what makes a mother greater than a father?". Words can be decieving but not the feelings. I wondered if there,in real,lies any such differentiation? was I losing sanity pondering over nothing? or was I unable to figure things out or was I blessed with two mothers? Whatever, i knew it was a beautiful question.. it could have only equally beautiful answers and my tryst to find an answer never deceased.
Last Sunday after a heartful lunch,pappaa rang up and called in for an astrologer to get vasthu corrections done at my place. The astrologer quiet renowned in our locality came up with a suggestion of uprooting a creeper which long made its home in our lil garden. It was pappaa who planted this creeper when I was five year old,since then, me and the creeper have grown up together ( more horizontally than vertically :P ). Well,my Mamma,with little apprehension(being herself) was carefully listening to what the astrologer had got to say. The man looked determined to kill my plants by connecting its growth to ill effects it would gross in my and my brothers life. It made no sense to me at all....yet to my amaze he had few logical reasons backing his predictions to which I could only grin "oh!yes yes gurujee"(eee...all 32 out :D). As he left the place,mamma hardened her face and ordered "let's keep the garden creeper free". I was shocked and anxious at the same time..was she serious??it was her who watered manured nurished them like kids all these years. How could she even 'think' of cropping them down over lame predictions. I had no choice but wait for my pappaa's reaction. I saw his face he was calm and clear,"There is no need for chopping.These plants brought joy to us untill now they too are a part of us. If at all they are fated to bring ill effects hereafter let them.Better we accept things as they come." I grabbed my pappaa's hands. Showing signs of proudness i gave a nod to his fair decision. On hearin this,mamma fled to kitchen with a gloomy face. I went behind her to put some sense and bring her lost smile back...but as I approached,i noticed her eyes were wett she grimly held my hand with a withdrawn face and said"I'm sorry..call me silly but there is nothing i love,care or which concerns me more than u kids. U r my life" I fell silent,with no wise insightful arguments to make on that statement..I just hugged her tightly and said its ok mamma.
I got my answers that day..what makes a father a father and not a mother. A father treats every bit of world he cares for including his kids,as his responsibilty as his life.. while a mother treats evrything which comes in her life with responsibilty love and care but considers only her family her kids as her world as her life! Happy birthday to u my dearest mamma....the best thing that has happened to me is u and the best thing about me is "I'm ur child"... luv luv and only luv to u! And belated happy birthday to ashu bro...I also dearly love my mumbai family. Thanx for giving such a nice space to rave my emotions. :-)
P.S : If anyone was forced to read my lenghty blah blahs please keep ur agitations growing.. u knw whom to blame it on...! ;-)
