Life is a box of ……

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

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.

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.

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”

Hope and Uncertainty go hand in hand. This term ” Uncertainty” is definitely a heavy word.  In the journey of life at different stages of life, there does come a time when one is not sure about the future, a fear somewhere resides in some corner of the mind.Yet life goes on. One tries to do what one thinks is best at that point of time. And when ones wishes are fulfilled its a nice, beautiful feeling.

Sometimes it does happen that, what one may think is best for oneself , God does not think that way, as HE has a different plan chalked out and when that happens , its a tough time. Hoping against hope one has to tread the difficult, dark path waiting anxiously to see the light ahead in the tunnel of life.

I am always reminded about the time when we come to a fork point in life. Which path to choose be it career, studies, spouse, house, relationships, relocation to another city/ country , medical issues , etc  sometime tear us apart giving stress . One then follows what ones heart/head/or others say with the cloud of uncertainty hanging over the head, leading each day with a SECRET desire that all turns out well with no REGRETS of the decisions taken , and with the LOVE , support of  family at HOME, friends, associates, we TREASURE we take each day as it comes.

I strongly believe that “LIFE IS A BOX OF UNCERTAINTY AND HOPE”.

Whenever I have faced UNCERTAINTY in my life . I like to remember these lines that I came across once to give me comfort

The water falls from the hills,

it never thinks it has fallen,

it rises to run as an Unstoppable river.

Life is not about falling.

It is about rising at every fall

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

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For My Mother In Heaven

Amma, with Mother’s day approaching I am remembering you all the more . This year will be my first Mother’s day after you have reached your final resting place to join Appa in your heavenly abode . Thankyou Amma for giving us a wonderful childhood, memories,  moments to cherish, education, teaching Sanskrit shlokas , introducing us to the world of stories and storybooks and values. Children learn watching their parents and we surely as kids absorbed many things like a sponge during the growing up years.

You gave us the freedom to express our thoughts even if we differed in our thoughts on some issues and had diametrically opposite views at times . This  opportunity to air our views and to agree to disagree philosophy is something I simply love and respect about you.

I say this specially because I have seen some people of my generation not being given this opportunity when it comes to talking to their parents . They call this respect and love . I call this respect and love accompanied by fear ( my personal opinion).

For every child their mother is the best cook in the world. You always made sure that you prepared dishes that your children relish even if it meant making an extra effort since with age/ health issues  your likes/dislikes/ preferences for something could have changed.

You were so fond of cooking and  knitting  sweaters for your children and grandchildren. I never managed to learn these two forms of art with the same passion as yours  ( and I don’t regret it too ). You agreed that nature and degree of  interests could vary from person to person and also from one generation to another.

Cooking is something which I learnt  after marriage and since you were always a phone call away I could always trouble you anytime and ask for recipes and tips before the “you tube “and “google maharaj” made their entry. The practical tips always have been so handy which the books /videos / google maharaj would seldom specify.

You would pack my things for me every time when it was time to leave for hostel  before the college reopened. You had the ability to make friends easily across all age groups and with your humour you normally won over most people. I wish I had  inherited that quality from you.

I still remember the second Sunday of May  2003 . It was also a Mother’s day and we three sisters were travelling  from Baroda to Madras along with you and your two toddler grandkids by train. We realized we had been talking so much (maybe at a volume audible to others) and having fun when some passengers who were travelling in the same coach a few berths away told us that they liked our lively and cheerful banter and struck a conversation with Amma. They seemed as if they were eager to know about all of us.

You always went out of the way to help us . When your grandkids were infants , toddlers and your kids could not go to buy train tickets or because of the summer rush it was impossible to get tickets you always volunteered to buy us tickets by going personally to the railway station by taking the trouble to be there at the booking counter in the morning hours  ( around 16/17  years ago – which seldom your generation ladies would offer to do).

You were employed with the Accountant General office in Madras and Delhi for 11 years- a central govt job,  but you gave it up after the birth of your twins and I have never ever heard you grumbling about it even at times when you were annoyed with us. Appa left home never to return when  a tragic accident snatched him away from us. You remained a pillar of strength for us  .

I quote here the words of my dear Uncle ( Amma’s  younger brother)  to his nieces ( to myself and my sisters)

“From Valady ( a place in Tamil Nadu) to Vadodara her life has been a life which inspires confidence. The life values she has imparted on you all, after the untimely snatching away of your beloved father, without buckling and complaining tells a lot about her confidence and maturity and fighting spirit.  Resonating with her name ‘Visalakshi’ she adopted a broader vision and courage to stand against some meaningless customs and practices”.

When we were living in the same city post my marriage ,  I would call you up on my way to your place to keep tea ready for me. I could take this liberty with you. According to me this is what I call  a closest relation called ” Amma” .

Amma , we miss you many times and fondly remember so many things about you .  We ( kids, grandkids)  remember your dialogues, proverbs that you often used, reactions to our activities . It is lonesome without you since you have gone away but we seem to hear you whisper to us to cheer up and carry on . Each time I see your picture you seem to be telling us with a smile  “Don’t cry, I am in God’s hands and we will meet again someday.

Amma, I hope and wish that I too prove to be an adorable mom to my kid, the same way as you are to me.

Today as I am keying in, I want to write so many things but I would restrict myself now and summarize with a beautiful poem by Pat O’ Reily

I borrow the words from Pat O’Reilly

“ Wonderful Mother”  

God made a wonderful mother,

A mother who never grows old;

He made her smile of the sunshine.

And He moulded her heart of pure gold;

In her eyes He placed bright shining stars,

In her cheeks  fair roses you see;

God made a wonderful mother,

And He gave that dear mother to me.