CHILDHOOD MEMORIES

I am sharing the link here for one my posts.

https://m.facebook.com/mycity4kids/posts/1430793646940309

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CLOCK

The students are seated in the examination hall . The bell rings and the three hour duration examination begins.

I observe what a sharp contrast it is ,as the venue and time span is same for me (invigilator) and students but our brain activity is so different!!

For a student the brain is at its productive best I feel -sharp, thinking , concentrating, recollecting, as they are answering their papers.
For me a very different frame of mental activity-least productive I feel.

For them every minute is precious and clock is ticking fast whereas for me every minute seems so long and the clock seems to be ticking very slowly.

As I sit and watch them answering their papers, many thoughts cross my mind as I watch each one of them.
As I observe their hands and fingers as it works on the drawing sheet using the ” T Scale ” , set squares, drafter, pencil and compass, I recollect the moments when they were trying to learn how to use the instruments, the A, B, C of spatial images & learning how to stretch their imagination & visualization skills.

I also get to notice the different shades of the same colour uniform. Some bright , some dull & faded, different hairstyles of the girls and boys . I notice oiled hair with a parting seems to be a thing of a bygone era!

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DEPTH

There is so much depth in prayer. There is a prayer which is sung in”INFINITHEISM”. Its called the infini prayer

Feeling thy presence
Feeling thy grace
Feeling thy radiance
You are my source of faith and strength
You are my path and destination
And I am always connected to you
Nothing of me and everything of you
Lead me Higher…
Lead me Deeper…
Lead me Beyond…
Lead me to you.

I read somewhere these lines “Knowing about God is purely intellectual. God isn’t something to be understood. God is to be felt. God is a matter of the heart. Feelings are the doors to divine experiences.”

When prayers come from the depth of the heart , they are definitely answered

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A Piece of Advice

Advice is something like a medicine. Nobody likes it but at times it does influence a person.It also depends upon the source from where /whom the advice comes.

As a kid and during the growing up years plenty of advice are given to guide ,teach, learn the ways of life . They really help in setting up values which form the foundation of a person’s character.

An advice that I will always remember was once given by my uncle. He said that when one faces a situation in life where you have to take a decision and its a “fork” type situation. God will always choose the best path that is meant for us.

what he meant was –Maybe we decide to choose path A but if God wanted Path B for us. We will choose path A , travel it, realize its not working and we would come back to the intersection and decide to follow path B . Sometimes what we think is best for us may not be the case always, as God has his plans already chalked out for us which HE knows is best for us.

This advice I liked and often I remember my uncle for this piece of advice.

Express Yourself

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Express Yourself!.”

Expressing oneself in today’s world is essential. People bestowed with the gift of the gab ( interesting type and not the type that irritates people )  are indeed very lucky. Although hard skills are required but it is the soft skills that makes one get noticed,  takes one ahead in life.

Apart from the gift of the gab there are some other art forms that people dabble in successfully to express themselves like art, craft, sculpting, painting, music, dance, poetry, story writing etc.  For me drawing comes naturally I guess, I am fond of sketches which depict three dimensional figures. Even a layman can understand such three dimensional sketches. I enjoy visualizing things in space maybe that is why spatial arrangement puzzles and questions attract me.

Writing is something which I find interesting, but my style of writing is very simple .Not everyone will find it interesting. Its again a matter of individual liking/preference.

Finally what matters is to be with people who encourage  you to imagesA48T618Aexpress yourself

Our House

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Our House.

 

The term ” Our House”  brings memories of our Ancestral house in our native place and also all the houses where I have grown up since we moved to  many cities during my growing up years.

We used to visit our grandparents during the summer vacations. My grandparents used to live in our  Ancestral house  in our native place in a village . It was a huge house . The place where the  houses were located in that village was called an “Agraharam”.  It had a huge portico in the front, huge two halls where everyone would spend time together, have meals, sleep . There were four smaller rooms adjoining the big halls.

At the backyard was a well, a makeshift bathroom. There was a separate room near the kitchen where firewood would be stocked for lighting the fire for the hot water . The staircase to the terrace was very narrow. On the terrace floor at a place above the hall was an opening. The idea was after the grains were kept in the sun for some time, instead of carrying the grains down, it was pushed through the hole on the ceiling of the hall ( floor of terrace) to avoid carrying the sacks down. At the backyard some vegetables were grown.

There was greenery all around. A canal used to flow close by to the house. Evening time there would be lots of mosquitoes. A plastic sheet smeared with oil would be hung  ( just in case the mosquitoes sat on the sheet, they would get stuck). We used to have food on banana leaves. There was no ceiling fan, Only one table fan used to be there and we would as kids take turns to be near it . The table fan would always be placed near to Grandpa.

There was a temple close by and we would sometimes go there. Going out meant travelling either in a bullock cart or bus. Since we would be there only for a few days, we would be pampered so much by all the neighbours and by my grandparents.

Looking back staying in a village had its charm. Life there for us as kids was carefree, so different from the life in the city where we were staying with our parents. Maybe  as kids it was fun time for us. And the generation of my mother would be always busy at the kitchen . Grinding the batter for some food varieties, pounding grains etc was done by the ladies manually. I realize it would have been tough for them. Today I am in that age bracket where I am supposed to be in the cooking department and I would certainly not enjoy being in a village ( if it was a time without gadgets like those days)

Now , that house has been sold. No one from the family stays in that village. My desire is that someday I would like to go  and visit the place during this lifetime.

My other houses have been in cities in northern  and western India. Normally we would move to the new city after the academic session came to an end , and my daddy would have already joined work and would have fixed a suitable house. He would draw the layout (plan) of the house in an Inland letter for us and post it .

All the houses were good and I have beautiful memories of them but what was best is when in college I had to make a layout of a residential/ public building in exam or had to submit an assignment the layout of the various houses, schools, market eIMG_3019tc then the places that I got to see in the different cities helped me in my thinking process!

“Mirror, Mirror, on the Wall.”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall.”

Mirror, Mirror,In the Wall

Writing about oneself is the most difficult part I have realized during the assignments  in’ Writing 101′ and ‘Blogging 101’ .

Every mind sees the same thing but perceives it differently and interprets it even more differently. I guess this is what makes every person unique , a little different from the rest .

I am supposed to answer few questions here in this daily prompt

My blog name- Pink blossom. I love the sight of the Jacaranda tree when in full bloom, laden with her pink blossoms . I find this tree very beautiful. For me she stands like a queen on the stretch of road.

My Tag line : Liking what I do is happiness. I strongly believe in  ” Doing what you like is freedom. Liking what you  do is happiness”

My Theme choice : Nature . I love being in the lap of nature.

Posts: I key in what ever comes to my mind whenever I am penning down my thoughts. I followed one rule during the ” writing 101″ and ” blogging 101″ assignments. I read others posts on a particular topic only after I am done with writing mine as I wanted my posts not to be influenced by others posts in any way.

Images: The images that I try to choose reflect my thoughts too. 

My profile pic: images8XZUADI8 

Mirror images are either magnified or diminished , virtual or real, upright or inverted in nature depending on the type of mirror used and the distance of the object from the reflecting surface.

Similarly, my views change with the nature of topic, my experiences, exposure to situations in life , circumstances but my views will never be contradicting.

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The Future

This is in response to Day 20 on Writing 101:  THE  FUTURE

The Future

The term ” Future” always connects me to a popular song by Doris Day whose lyrics I just love. The lyrics of the song :

When I was just a little girl

I asked my mother, “What will I be?

Will I be pretty, will I be rich?”

Here’s what she said to me

“Que Sera, Sera, Whatever will be, will be

The future’s not ours to see Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be”

When I grew up, and fell in love
I asked my sweetheart, “What lies ahead?
Will we have rainbows, day after day?”
Here’s what my sweetheart said

“Que Sera, Sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be”

Now I have children of my own
They ask their father, “What will I be
Will I be handsome, will I be rich?”
I tell them tenderly

“Que Sera, Sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be”

Future has a certain element of mystery attached to itimages. Nobody knows what lies ahead in one’s life.

There have been occasions when I have visited a place, a locality, a city, an institution – not knowing that in future these areas will become an integral part of my life in the years to follow!!

It has happened with people too in my case. One keeps coming across faces, people – strangers at first for many days eventually become very good friends whom we cherish for a lifetime!

It has happened with  profession too in my case. People find themselves in an occupation that they never ever thought of  .

Even a month back I had never thought I would meet bloggers or I would hop into this blog wagon. One fine day I was surfing for something and came across ” Daily post” and I got to know about this forum.

Today is the last day on “Writing 101” . I am glad I joined it and got the opportunity to read innumerable posts. Every post is interesting and so different !

Its been a nice journey , and I look forward to join more writing events in the future too as and when time permits.

The prompts have definitely encouraged me to brainstorm and write in new ways and introduced me to new tools and resources.

The Kindness of Strangers

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “The Kindness of Strangers.”

As an adult I still like the books, movies, actors, actress, cartoons.. .. things that I liked as a child or youth
Am I as childish, as youthful as before?
Or is it consistency of taste liking ? A loyalty to the things I like & people I love?

It is the same with my wrist watch too.
I lost my wrist watch a few months ago and was feeling v sad about it. Although many new models have flooded the market & it was a good excuse to buy a new one, yet I longed to have it back.

I did search for it but in vain & had given up all hopes of finding it.
There is a hawker on the road who sells tender coconuts. I would see him daily during my walk. I passed by his shop when I was searching for my watch and when I saw him , I somehow had this feeling – “no need to ask him’., as  how would he know !!” ?

After about two days , a gut feeling made me to inquire him during my walk about my lost watch . My joy knew no bounds when he said  that he had seen a wrist watch lying at a distance from his shop and also had seen someone picking it. On further inquiry he told that the person who picked it passes through this route daily.

It was a mixed feeling. Happy because he had seen someone picking a watch which matched my description of the watch and sad because how to manage to locate that person. I could not believe my ears when he volunteered to help me by asking that person the next time he sees him.  After coordination with him – I got my wrist watch back. I just could not believe it.!!!

This incident reaffirmed my faith that honest people do exist in this world today. I thank them and appreciate them for their honesty, simplicity, kindness.

Mine your own material

This is in response to Day 17 on writing 101:

Tell us about a time you’ve left an object, place, person, or even an idea behind — and had to move on.

Bombay is a city of dreams. For me too it was, it is.

I spent nearly two decades in this city. I came to this city as a young girl in my early twenties when I got a job. This Metro city has a magnetic effect. Whoever comes here  gradually falls in love with the city inspite of it being called fast paced. She takes into her arms every one who comes to her , and gives an experience of  warmth, struggle, love, independence, exposure and the various other ingredients that are required to experience life.

Its a city for everyone- for the rich as well as the poor. I have always felt that she has a beat, a rhythm, a pulse to her. She is a city who never sleeps.

She gave me – my first job, my first house, my first love, my bundle of joy , friends, an experience and exposure which taught me so many things in my life.  As I started loving the city immensely there came circumstances because of which I had to relocate to another city. I think relocation is not the word- uprooted would be an appropriate word.

My heart was torn. I felt very sad too . Although I moved to another city which is equally very developed but my heart does not belong here.

This was the time I came across the book ” who moved my cheese”?  by Dr Spencer Johnson and it helped me to deal with change in life, It taught me how to adapt to change, how to look at life beyond the comfort zone.

Well, after moving to another city, I try to look at the positive side that the city has to offer me. I did learn couple of things here . I just hope change leads to something better and I manage to fall in love to the new place too.

Although Politically its called Mumbai now, for me it will always be Bombay- as that was how it was called when I moved to this city to build my dreams.

For my blogger friends who understand hindi- this is the song which is very apt for me when I started my life after marriage in Bombay

” do  diwaane  shahar  mein,  raat  mein  yaa  dopahar  mein
aabodaanaa  dhoondhte  hai,  ek  aashiyaanaa  dhoondhate  hain”