It's time to get 'puzzled' !

What's this?

It is a picture of two adorable kittens with a yarn of wool. It is also a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle being puzzled over by a six yr-old and his mother...

Yes! We are very smart, thank you very much! Much to the amazement of the resident snorter who thought we couldn't do it...(*i think he was just jealous)

Little S has always been fascinated by puzzles since he was almost 2 years old. He's spent many a rainy day with Kaleidoscope, the puzzle made up of colored little squares, which i love too. But jigsaws are his favorite. It's addictive and a great stress buster. Solving it teaches one about perspectives, about tenacity and is good exercise for the mind. This was the first time, though, that he tried his hand at a 1000 piece puzzle.

It is a fascinating thing to sit down with these odd shaped pieces and coax them into forming the complete picture. At first they are just meaningless shapes, and it's difficult to make sense of the mayhem. But we figured it out, me and my little helper. We started with the border, because the border pieces have one flat edge, thereby making it easier for us to start. It was not very easy because the fur looked almost the same. Sometimes, I would hold the piece the wrong way, and then lil S would slap his forehead and put it…right there where it belonged.

Every time S returned from school, he would wash up and bounce into the room, first to check how much i got done without him and then to try and beat me at it...

Sometimes it just wouldn't move forward. And then miraculously, when we tackled it after some time or the next day, we seemed to instantly find that missing piece. And everything would fall into place for a while. So much like life, isn't it?

Little by little, piece by piece, we finished it. And the look of satisfaction on his face when he fitted in that last piece was worth recording. He didn't know I had completed it hours before but had messed it up a bit, just so that he could have the satisfaction of finishing his very own "big people' puzzle.

And as usual because I just can't help it, I think of associations and memorable happy moments.

Of Scrabble boards.

Of incredibly lazy evenings,

Of worry free minds and easy laughter,

Of a family bonding over a scrabble game, which my sister would invariably win.

Of my mother using the game to improve her vocabulary.

I hope that my kids too would weave happy associations around certain things. I'm sure they could never look at a football without thinking of G, of all those evenings spent kicking the dratted ball or watching the games together. Maybe the 11 yrold would look at books and instantly remember the books devoured together by him and me?

And perhaps, jigsaw puzzles would do the same for my 6 yrold. Sometimes, I look beyond and see a young man buying a puzzle for his child, and telling him/her "See this? i used to do that with my mom".

Sigh!

*a happy Sigh!

There you go again, my wistful heart...why peer into a whimsical future when you have such a beautiful present....? 

So tell me, since I'm a curious cat sometimes....are there certain things which bring back an instant happy family recollection for you?

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edited to add:: Thank you, Blogadda, and imlee for this

This entry is a part of the contest at BlogAdda.com in association with imlee.com

"Look" says the little voice, tugging at her hand,

urging her to stop.

She's fretting because its so late,

they need to be home.

She's tired, it has been a long day.

"Look", he says again, "the sky's shining"

She wonders at the awe in his voice

and sees his shining eyes.

She looks upwards

And sees millions of tiny lights,

The glittering canopy takes her breath away

A cloudless night like this

can set the spirit soaring

she thinks, hugging the little body closer

as they stand together

mesmerized by nature's display

A cloudless night

A cloudless night like this,
can set the spirit soaring
Because it shows me
the beauty of the stars
Because it shows me
the light, even in the dark
It urges me
to be patient.
For, under that darkness
in my mind,
are hidden gems
waiting
to be sprinkled as glitter
in tales
yet to be born
Wait, it seems to say,
for the wind of change
Wait, it seems to say,
for the words to flow
Wait,  it says,
For the darkness to show
The magic that lies within.
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A spontaneous effort for the prompt "A cloudless night like this can set the spirit soaring' at Keith from Keith's Ramblings has come up an interesting prompt site, "Carry On Tuesday"
(This week our prompt is the opening line of A Walk After Dark by W. H. Auden
A cloudless night like this can set the spirit soaring
Use it at the start or somewhere within your verse or prose. .)

Indus ladies Mother's day Blog contest

I got a mail from indi blogger informing me about this contest for mother's day! I didn't have time so got out an old post of mine...

My entry for the contest...

A mother's perspective...

It's been one of those days where I have locked myself into the room after having performed a series of exemplary acts...I have rescued my towels from the dustbin (courtesy an absentminded son) saved my lights from being broken by a ball and myself from seeing stars, screamed my lungs out, managed to finish my editing work dead on the line, got dinner on the table and still been alive at the end of it all...

Bringing up two boys makes my life a medley of sorts...and I’m still finding my way. I am a woman literally in a man’s world. I think I have learnt to look at my roles from different perspectives. I wear many mantles and every day is a roller coaster of emotions. Want to see how?

They go the kitchen and holler out for me as if the sky is falling down…I rush there only to be asked where the chocolates/cookies are? So am i the organization expert? This is where perspective comes into the picture.

It is no easy task to decide nutritious meals for the day, trying to suit three hungry stomachs for there will always be one unhappy soul not liking the preparation. I’m nowhere in the picture of course! I’ll be delighted if the food does vanish without threats, bribes or tantrums. So does that make me a food management expert? A nutritionist or A cook? sigh..don't tell me, it's perspective...•

I trip over Lego pieces and superhero figures and the ghastly faces they call masks, only to be greeted with war cries of murder. So I have to pacify two angry boys with concocted stories of why I was rushing to the toilet, as if my life depended on it. That explanation strikes too close to home and I’ve convinced them that the excuse was worth trampling upon their toys. Lo! Behold! I’m a crisis management expert. •

Cricket and football are the bane of my life and one day I may just sue the creator of the games. On second thoughts, I may be lynched by the cricket crazy fans before i even think of doing that, so it is time for subtle tactics. So I could just get that junior to agree to a page of handwriting, in return for viewing rights! So trust me to recognize an opportunity and turn it to my advantage! •

It needs great skills to involve every member of the house into tasks they don’t enjoy, without them realizing that they are doing it. It requires the right blend of firmness, nonchalance and voice power. Of course when nothing goes, an incentive works fine, just fine. That makes me a human resource management expert or a plain nag. see, again a matter of perception! •

Saying the right things at the right time, without hurting anybody’s feelings gets my diplomacy skills to the fore. How else will you answer the plaintive complaint “You love him more than me. You always listen to him”? He gets to hear how much more I would have loved him if I hated him, so that he would not feel hated. Got it, no? Neither did I! But surprisingly it made sense to him. Confuse the issues so that he does not realize whether he had a good thing or he missed one! That’s a diplomat at work.

Add to the above, the tactics employed to maintain bonding between a rebellious preteen and a hyperactive 5 yr-old! I never knew what I had signed up for when I decided to upgrade myself into a mother.

But the icing on the cake is, after all that screaming, ranting and raving done, I still get the ‘You’re cool, Amma" badge at the end of the day. So every day is my second chance to get it right and get that badge. It is the best incentive I get to carry on for yet another day of an imperfect mother !!!

Besides, my boys may just be the smart ones, having figured out how to manipulate me emotionally! But I sure am loving it, every hour, everyday!

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http://www.indusladies.com/forums/blogs/phoenixritu/mothers-day-competition-1717/

What they say

What do you do
when you feel
a dread deep within?
and you wonder why?

What can you do
when you see
the black clouds which
threaten your sunlight
and you cannot blow them away?

What do you do
when you smile
but the eyes,
they tell a different story?

This too shall pass
so they say
but the agony
It is in the waiting
and not knowing

The agony is in
the searching
for an imagined strength
to mask your weakness

This too shall pass
so they say
But it's the passing
which is killing

Do i have to...?

"Do i have to" he asked, tentatively, unsure, eyes pleading...

yes, you have to, you know you have to

"but i don't want to..."

come on, its not that difficult, stop making it so hard for everyone...

okay, okay, don't get angry, i'm trying, its difficult, you try doing it.....

.
.
.
.


WILL YOU JUST STOP WHINING AND TAKE THAT TABLET!!!!!

splutter...did you have to do that, i was trying to swallow?!!!!!

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Sunday scribbling - prompt "DO I HAVE TO?"

Solace

Solace...is that what i find
when i take you into my arms?
Ready to go where you take me
wanting to be the one you want

Solace, i think that's what i find
in a book i read,
uninterrupted and free...
the mind gets ready for a timeless journey
the heart is set for adventure, love and mystery...

my books, that never ceases to amaze...
my books, in you i find my solace

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scribbled in a hurry for sunday scribblers
Prompt 'Solace"

update:: after reading such beautiful versions at Sunday scribblings, i wish i had taken time to delve deeper and come up with something more profound, something beautiful...

:)

What if?

What if? It's so tempting to fall into the game of playing 'What if'!! What if i had done this? what if i had said that? What if ...?

What if you decide never to think of the if's and the but's but focus on the 'will' and the 'can'? Would life be as interesting?

Every action brings a change and every change brings on a challenge. There is no time to think on what could have been done but yes, there is time to think on what should be done henceforth.

So what next?

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Scribbled in response to the Matinee Muse prompt 'What if"

Knock, knock who's there?

She soaked her tired feet in hot water, let her hair down, and took a book to read. Exhausted from the day's overload of work, she deserved this little pampering.

Five minutes later, she could not ignore the sounds from the kids' room. Hadn't she just left them asleep?

The noise growing steadily louder, she got up with a sigh. Marching into their room she hollered, "one more sound from any of you and you are grounded!!!"

As she stomped away, she heard the tremulous whisper of the 3 yr-old asking his stunned 5 yrold bother, " Is that a ghost?"

She had left her face pack on...!!! Why hadn't she thought of this earlier?

inspired by a chance remark...

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update:: this piece was inspired by a comment my 3 yrold niece made when she saw her mother march in, angry...only difference she called her a witch, being fed on fairytales...

my faithful friend

It never lies.
It shows me exactly who I am, who I have become.
It shows my deepest flaws, my brightest side.
faithful as ever

Always there,
Sometimes uplifting, sometimes depressing
but dependable,
for it never lies
a faithful friend

My mirror never lies…
even when shattered into tiny shards
sometimes I wish it did
just like my conscience does

fantasy...

He dialed the no with trembling fingers, wondering what to say. Would it be just like they had promised? Already dreaming of things unknown, he waited...

The line cackled to life…

He cleared his throat and squeaked…”ummm, you said you’d bring my wildest fantasy true…in this advertisement here…” regretting the words even as he said it.


Silence never felt so loud…

“You idiot, next time dial the right number!!!” came the outraged reply.

And that was the end of his fantasy…

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fiction inspired by the numerous crank calls/wrong numbers one gets...:)

writers prompt - fantasy

sunday scribblings - telephone

Questions!!!

Deep down, deep within
Caged and restless,
Is there someone
Yearning to get out?

Is it fierce and aggressive?
Or just tamed into submission?
Is it good, is it evil
Do you know?

There are moments
When a glimpse is seen
A ferocious attitude
An aggressive will

Just a flash but enough
To know it exists
Does it emerge
when you are not strong?
Does it substitute
a weaker you?

If you knew how,
Wouldn’t you set it free?
If it would change you,
Would you still let it go?

freedom without peace?

Prerna kept the telephone down, tears coursing down her face. She had just heard her little boy on the phone. She had heard the unspoken plea in his voice, begging her to come back.

Prerna leaned back against the wall, remembering her family.

“My dear child”, there’s nothing in the world I want more than to have you near me, believe me. But I have to do this, i HAVE to do this, for you, for your father and for me. Forgive me, Pawan… Someday, you may understand”

She hoped he could hear her and understand her, more importantly, forgive her

She walked slowly back to her one room flat where she would be alone, cooking her frugal meal and thinking of the warm house she had left behind. Was it just 15 days ago that she had left everything and come here? Was finding herself worth it?

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Prerna had been planning this for quite some time now. She never knew when the idea had planted itself in her mind and when it had germinated into a goal. It grew steadily, watered by the daily episodes of rejection she faced. Fifteen years!!! fifteen years of giving her time to the family had taken its toll. She had lost herself among the myriad roles of daughter-in-law, wife, mother and friend.

"How easy it is to get deluded by all the social obligations these roles force us to play," she thought wryly. She had allowed herself to get carried away with the responsibilities of motherhood and home, waiting for that day when she would be free, to explore her dreams. Till the day she realized that she would never really be free. She was expected to fulfill all her roles responsibly but Viraj had clearly missed his duties. Living in a joint family had chaneged him. He was never there for the family. Taking care of the family business had made him a slave to time.

Everyone thought that her part-time art class was a way to spend free time, it was just a whim that could be indulged. No one realized that it meant an unrealized dream.

It must have been the time when she was showing her old albums to her class that this idea must have struck her. Her college photos where she had won the best artist award. The awe on her loyal 20 students, who were sent more by bored mothers, than to learn any serious art. Was it then that she knew what she had been missing? Or was it when she chanced upon the article which praised the quaint little painting village which had come up?

That’s when she made up her mind and broke the news to Viraj. Viraj, her husband looked at her sadly…”where did I go wrong? Why are you doing this to me? “

“You never went wrong. I am responsible for this. I let my dreams die. For once I’m asking for the right to be selfish. To do what I’ve always wanted to do. I’ve given you 15 yrs of my life …is this so much to ask for? That you look after our son for 6 mths and help me out?

He had raged ”Dreams? What dreams?!! Am I not slaving for the family too? How can you tell that you are not contented? You want to pursue art now? You have everything!! What more do you need?

Prerna replied sadly, “Would you believe my identity? You wouldn’t understand, Viraj” and left the room, leaving him puzzled and perplexed.

That evening, when the family sat down to dinner, she said, “There is an art school where I want to go. It has a residential program for 6 months. i’m planning to enroll

As expected when she broke the news, there were fireworks. They all tried to dissuade her, worrying about what people would say. But she had made up her mind. It was now or never.

Her parents-in-law were aghast. She knew they did not approve but she was beyond caring this time. Her parents too had tried to reason with her, her closest friends tried to dissuade her. She heard them out and just smiled. She gave no explanations because she knew no one would ever understand. She was doing it for herself and that was the very thing which troubled them.


*To be continued....

sunday scribblings prompt - family
writer's island - Identity

The future of our planet

You are worried when you read about global warming.

You are upset when you read about depleting resources…

You gasp when you read about polluted air…

It’s sad because the same technology which has brought us comforts has given us its side effects too

It’s worrying when each person thinks “what good can I, a single person, do? I won’t be able to change anything”

It’s confusing when you hear the scientists foretell the dismal future of our planet…

It's depressing when you think of the needless loss of lives in the name of peace

You feel helpless because you’ve messed up and left an inheritance which is worthless…

But there is hope...and where there is hope there is a future...and i would like to build on that....

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the prompt at sunday scribblings is "The future of the planet"

wondering!!!

The beautful butterfly once lived life as a humble caterpillar. The caterpillar cannot become a buterfly if it strays away from the path of completion.

We humans don't have it so easy.Why is it that someone somewhere is always seeking that one thing to feel complete?

When do you know you are complete? Is it when you walk the path towards a perfect match, or a perfect career or …?

When you know you can die without any regrets, is that the moment of completion? If you yearn no more, does it kill the motivation to do better?

Is contentment the key to completion? Then why is it so difficult to be content?

Or am i confusing it with fulfillment?

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a penning down of thoughts which flowed when i read this prompt 'completion' at writer's island....I have yet to build on this...or am i on the wrong track?

A daughter no more!

a story in response to the prompts on writers island , triumph and survivor.




Shaila took a minute to catch her breath and then continued her frenzied activity. There was so much to do…the food arrangements, the flowers had to be arranged, the gifts had to be sorted out. Everything had to be just perfect. It had to be; this was the most important moment of her life.

She looked at the couple at the couple on the *mandap, dressed simply yet radiating a wealth of happiness on their faces. Even from this far, she could see the glow on their faces. Her thoughts ran back to that fateful day when their world had fallen apart.
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It had never been a marriage worth talking about. The abuse had been tolerated because marriage was a security that she thought protected her. Then one day, he had walked out of their lives leaving them with a paper which declared her marriage null and void. The tears and the humiliation, the anger and remorse, these were feelings that had overwhelmed them again and again. The words exchanged between them had been bitter. It had been a terrible blow, to be flung aside like a dirty rag. They had spent days and nights consoling each other. The invisible finger of blame was always pointed towards them, by relatives and the so-called well-wishers. It was insinuated that she had been a source of embarrassment to ‘HIM’, that’s why he had left her.

She thought of the self denial they had gone through. It had taken ages to come out of it. That’s when they realized that they were not alone; they had each other and would weather this storm together and search for that rainbow.

They enrolled for classes together. It was fun in a way, though they always had this feeling of insecurity hanging over them. She remembered those nights spent drinking coffee and studying! Those were the nights where they also rubbed balm over each other’s pain. How could she not remember the pain of job hunting and the feeling of despair over each rejection? Sometimes she felt like giving it all up and running back to him, pleading to be taken back. Luckily her famous will power had always held her back. The first step to independence had been taken when they came to terms with it all. It had been tough, the days spent in the women’s hostel and trying to make ends meet, but the days of sacrifice had been worth it. They had finally triumphed! A job had been secured, meriting a small celebration among their newfound friends.

Her mother had been strong though she, Shaila, had seen her unshed tears. Together they had tried to make a new start. Slowly “HE’ no longer figured in their conversations and he faded away like a bad dream. They had realised the value of self esteem.

They were there for each other and that seemed to be enough…till the day, many years later, she noticed subtle changes. She noticed the presence of a new person in their conversations. Anmol crept in unnoticed but hovered around like an unseen presence.

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She decided to do something about it. It had been funny when she thought about it, now. She had followed him everywhere, to his office, to his home. Her only aim was to see what kind of a person he was. How else would you know about him if you didn’t see him in his own surroundings? She now knew exactly where he went for his meals, who he spoke to, which barber he visited, that he played good cricket with the street kids and that he spent a day of his week reading to slum children.

One day, she had been wating outside his home when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find Anmol. Sternly, he had asked “ma’am, why have you been following me? Should I report you for adam-teasing” and there was an inkling of a smile in those clear eyes. The ice had been broken then and she immediately felt a strange feeling of peace. Perhaps he was the one!

He had then taken her to the coffee shop. They had talked. After weeks of observing and analyzing, she had made up her mind. She had decided that the time had come for action. She would get them married. She had single-handedly opposed all the so-called friends who came immediately flocked around, like vultures gathering for the kill. In the name of social obligations, she listened to many arguments and snide remarks but she was firm. Where were these people when they had needed help?

If happiness was seven 'pheras' (the wedding vows) away, so be it. And that was how this day came into the picture! Fingers were pointed today too, when everyone realized what was happening. Shaila refused to be cowed down. She the daughter was giving away her mother in marriage, whether anyone approved of it or not. The marriage was attended by the few well-wishers they had, because nobody else believed that a divorcée deserved to live! These few friends, who had stood by them all through, made sure that she didn’t falter. Her mother had agreed reluctantly, scared of society but Shaila had been adamant. Anmol had been truly invaluable in this crucial phase. ************************************************************************
Her mother, Saritha, caught her eye and smiled, tentatively. Shaila smiled back reassuringly…Together, they were both survivors who had triumphed against the odds…
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The characters in the above story are visualised in the indian context where it is the woman generally who faces the social stigma attached to a divorce.

Flight to nowhere

He stood there grinning, feeling the air on his face
Today was the day he would show the world
What he was and what he could do

The ones who said that he was nobody
They would soon be eating their words
He hated them for making him feel so small,
Today was the day, he thought
They would never forget who he was

The reporters had gathered…the crowd had arrived
They looked so tiny from here
The smile still on his face, he fell
From the topmost floor of the tallest building in town

All the while, he wondered and marvelled
The feeling of movement too strong
Never realizing that he was on a downhill plunge
Taking a flight to nowhere…
On his one-way ticket to oblivion

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The writer's island prompt this time was...FLIGHT

Fearless...

Fearless is ...what that bungee jumper is...*gulp

Fearless is....what a bird is, soaring high

Fearless is ...what a lil child is…free

Fearless is...what I am when I say NO

Fearless is ...believing in yourself

Fearless is ...seeing your convictions through

Fearless is ...being honest

Fearless is what I aim to be

What makes you fearless?

Who is the animal here?

Does this make you smile?

It broke my heart.

To see such a majestic animal being reduced to this.

I wonder why man abuses his power and intelligence so?



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The prompt at Sunday scribblings is "photograph"

One day....

Awakened by the chirping of the birds, she stretched languorously and looked around. She saw him, asleep, dead to the world. Should she wake him up? Perhaps not! She should first fill her stomach. She tip toed to the kitchen, and looked disdainfully at the mice scampering around. She was so hungry that she felt she could eat anything. Ignoring them, she gulped the milk and the food kept nearby. She looked around and smiled, the kitchen was in a mess…boy, he is going to be so angry!

She went back, and again looked at him. The urge to wake him up got stronger. She went near and tickled his foot. He nudged her away and rolled to the other side. She persisted and licked his face.

He knocked her off again. Miffed, she stormed out. She could make it on her own. She didn’t need him. She walked and walked smelling the early dawn. Suddenly, she felt someone following her. All her senses awakened, she turned around to see Bholu leering at her. Uhoh!! That seemed like trouble. After the torrid affair last summer, he had never ever forgiven her for dropping him. The least he could have done was live up to his name. She took a right turn and saw another familiar figure walking towards her, hairy Goldie. What kind of name was Golden?

She stopped warily, trapped between the two of them, wondering whether this was the end. They stepped closer and closer,  she watched intently,  frozen and caught.

Suddenly she heard a whistle, a welcome sound.

”Here kitty…here…where’s that dratted cat gone?” muttered the voice.

She gave a triumphant meow and bounded towards the voice, relieved to have all her nine lives intact.

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writer's island