The raven

August 10th:

Dear diary,
Something really strange happened today. I spotted this raven at my bedroom window staring at me intensely. It wasn’t the first time either, I have seen this raven around almost daily, and only today I realised it is the same fella everyday. And I know this because there is a small white scratch on his beak. Could it be David? Could his soul have come back from the dead?
Or am I reading too much into it?

P.S: You do know today will mark a year since David left me.

August 21st:

Dear diary,
I am sure the raven is David, and I will tell you why. Remember that Paediatrician I met at the socials last week, he asked me out. And as I laid out my first date dress on the bed, you know, the red one. David’s favourite! The raven came and pooped on it. It entered my bedroom sat on the bed and pooped on the red dress! If this doesn’t convince you that David has come back to me…then nothing will.

August 30th:

Dear diary,
I am so happy today, I and David had coffee in the balcony, just like old times. I made mine strong and gave David some milk. Oh I discovered that this new David loves my chicken pops just like the old one. When I clean the house and dust the surfaces, David does the same on his window sill. He removes all dust particles using his beak. His soul is still the same. He is my David, even his habits are the same.

I am in love all over again!

September 15th:

Diary,

David has not been coming daily anymore. I wonder where he goes. Do you think he goes to see her, be with her, just like he used to? I thought he came back for me! That bastard, can’t he let go of her and just be mine. I need to know where he goes, I need to follow him, diary. I must make him mine again.

September 20th:

I saw him, I saw him sitting on the window sill of her apartment looking in, watching them. It was a raven and I know it was David. That lying, cheating, traitorous man! He promised me, he swore that he will be mine and only mine.

September 22nd:

Dear Diary,

I am happy again. Oh so happy, I have been listening to Angus & Julia Stone in a loop since morning. David is back home, he is mine again. He has fulfilled his promise and left his wife and children forever.
Guess what, diary?
All it took was a rat poison and a taxidermist!

The white girl

As Karen walked through the streets of Jaipur, she was conscious of the stares following her each and every stride. This was not new to her, she had experienced the extra attention, from men and women of India, the minute she had stepped out of the airport.

She remembered her friend Atul, warning her, “if you want to visit India alone, let me tell you it is not a place for a single white woman.”

Karen had heard so many beautiful things about India, the place, the colours, the culture and the cuisine; that Atul’s warning seemed more like a desperate attempt to keep her back home in Milwaukee, during its merciless winters.

She knew that it was now or never, she had finally saved up enough money to backpack through the world’s no.1 exotic destination.

Karen shook herself off her thoughts and decided to put Atul in the back burner for now. The streets with names that she couldn’t possibly pronounce, were calling out to her. She dived inside a busy market place in Central Jaipur and then took a left and a right and a left and a right again, with hawkers calling out to her, selling beautiful trinkets at 10 dollars a piece.

The market was infinite, and Karen was determined to find out what lay right in the end.

As she reached what looked like the deepest part of this colourful maze, the shops dwindled and all that remained were garbage cans with odd stalls here and there.

That’s when, in Karens head, the warning bells started tinkling. It was dark, the lane was practically empty. To make matters worse, she had no clue how many lefts and rights she had taken.

She looked around to see dark men, smoking what they called a bidi, silently staring at her, when she felt something sharp poke her back and a stinking breath near her ears say,

“You are alone and far away from home, white girl!”

A toothpaste in green please

Dear Manufacturers,

Please consider manufacturing your products in color green. Don't get me wrong, I am not Green World...Global Warming...Save the Earth propagation. The reason for my suggestion, are the below situations:

1. "Mummy....I want GREEN auto. I want to only go in GREEN auto." and your child cries himself to sleep moaning GREEN autoOOOOO.

2. He refuses to brush his teeth for days only because I can't find him a GREEN paste and brush....grrrr

3. Honestly, there are not enough GREEN pants and GREEN t shirts in all the malls as there are in my home

4. Tantrums, in the middle of the night because he wants GREEN bed sheets and blankets.

5. GREEN shoes, GREEN caps, GREEN watch blah GREEN blah GREEN blah blah blah

I hope now you get it, and be careful lest your kids contract the ORANGE/GREEN/YELLOW/RED/BLUE disease.

From,

The harrowed mother of the boy who loves GREEN!

Let's find my mind...

My most interesting conversations with Simba happen, while getting him ready for school. Like today:

"Mummy?"

"Yes?"

"You know, I lost my mind and I did not even know that."

"Eh?"

"Yeah, I lost my mind, where should I find it mummy?" (mummy looks up to see that he is dead serious.)

"Who told you that?" (mummy getting increasingly upset).

"Daaadddyyy"

Conclusion: Daddy gets toasted!!

Happy Children's day

So on children's day...walking Simba back from school, I realize how the rest if my day would go..

Simba: "Mummy, after we go home, 1st you give me lunch. And then you make me do my homework. I have 2 homework by the way.
And then we will go out and buy hard paper and make a remote control car at home. (Seriously, I have no freakin clue how that's possible.)
And then we will take my cycle and fill petrol for the tyre. (Ok, I think he means air)
And then you make me learn how to play guitar so that I can sing "Eye of the tiger" for my talent show in school.
That's it!" (oh yeahhh)

Mummy: (wiping the sweat off her brow) "Ummmm okkkkayyy!!!"

So, happy children's day...

My Grand Adventure

The path to insanity....
Step 1: Visit Essel World on a Saturday when you would rather be sleeping at home.
Step 2: Dare to go on Thunder....the ride that renders you upside down. And while you are trying hard to defy gravity by holding yourself up...you realise this is it. This is the end of life as you know it.
Step 3: You then panic and start screaming "mummmyyyyy" 1000 X 1000 times. And while your holding on to the thread of your life and screaming for your mother, you suddenly feel guilty about missing your mom and not your kids. Especially when they run the risk of soon being orphaned.
Step 4: You then decide to screw the guilt and go back to screaming "mummmyyyyy" 1000 X 1000 times. When suddenly you start warning people around that you are gonna throw up. After warning them atleast 5 times....embarassingly enough you actually throw up. Not on others but on yourself....which is even worse!!
Step 5: You then step out of the ride and have water hosed down on you....which obviously is not as sensous as it looks in movies.
Step 6: You sit in the sun, waiting to dry your clothes and refuse to step on anything remotely kinetic.
Step 7: As if step 1 to step 6 were not enough, you then get tempted into trying ice skating. And after slipping on your bum like a zillion times, when you finally manage to reach the exit of the ice rink, you realise you have no feeling left in your hands, lips, nose and your brain. You then thank god for helping you nearly freeze to death and ask mere mortals to help you.
Step 8: and when you finally walk out of Essel World, you can't help but wonder...what a grand adventure. And Ram Morrison you missed it.

Why does my heart feel so sad?

What would you do when your home is not a beautiful villa, picket fence, a lovely garden and everything that makes 4 walls a home? What if your home is someone, a person who makes you feel like you belong, belong right there no matter where it is and how it is. And when you know that anything you ever do and anywhere you ever be, you will miss home. It will feel like a hole in your heart forever, like a weight on your soul, a knowledge that you don't belong. Even if it is in the beautiful villa with a picket fence. And that is when you heart will feel so fucking bad that it threaten to tear from inside out....and a scream of anguish pushes against your throat waiting to come out...... sorrow so deep and black knowing that you will never be home. And it's the picket fence that will be your cage...forever.