Deep talks with my daughter

Hello Reader Friends, 

We all have (especially the female readers) share a very special bond with our mothers. This relationship is an evolving one and comes at par with the universal father-daughter camaraderie, which is blatantly endorsed with great pride. Interestingly, most of us girls become friends with our mothers when we experience motherhood as opposed to father-daughter bond. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, we daughters are so different than out fathers but yet they are our benchmark (largely). 

It is a generation thing that I do not have any such memory of sitting with my mother in childhood and discussing about my fights with my friends, issues at school, or in general my understanding of life. Who cared? She had chores to do and then life was not so complicated because we ignored. As a result, our generation never spoke about what we felt! Or we had mastered the art of ignorance. Sometimes ignorance is a bliss but not always. And our generation would agree their personal flaws, setbacks, issues owing to the kind of upbringing we had. It was a fantastic childhood, gadget free and 'less was more'. But  we could have a meaningful one. 

Coming to the point, yesterday I had a heartfelt discussion with my daughter. It has become necessary to have a conversation with her since we live in a nuclear family, and grandparents are a video call away. I am glad that we spoke and she shared her thoughts. My daughter is very opinionated and raises her concerns. I like that the most about her. But she easily gets disheartened when things do not go as per her expectations. I cannot say about others but she does have a certain temper. 

Temper: I explained to her that temper is acquired and not innate. When we were born, we were blessed with organs, blood, bones, feeling of hunger (baby cries when hungry), feeling of satisfaction (baby is quiet when fed), feeling of happiness (baby is happy when we blow raspberries). A newly born does not know anger. Then how do we get angry while we grow?  If we were not gifted then we should not allow that  feeling  of 'anger' to be a part of our system. She understood but I hope she remembers and implements it. Temper is bad and unnecessary. A person with temper will always be left alone. Why would someone spend time with him, no matter how rich, intelligent, he is!

Gratitude: We spoke of gratitude. While kids today have access to almost everything they want, and we as parents make sure to provide them beyond their needs. Our generation of kids got things way below our needs that is just the opposite! We also get angry and disappointed when we are not grateful. So rather than saying 'why I do not have this?' be grateful for 'whatever I have.' Then she replied, 'With this sort of feeling I will never become successful. She said if I will be happy with little success then I will stop working and I will not get more success'. She is correct. But then a lot of what we achieve in our life is due to discipline and consistency. We must first celebrate the little success, be grateful and work on it to make it a big success. She nodded, it appealed her. 

Stop pleasing: This happens a lot with children. While they are innocent and resilient but they are sensitive too. When all those differences with friends happen and they want to hold on to their friends, however wrong the friends are, the child tries to fit-in. The trait of pleasing creeps in. Though my daughter is known for her bluntness but she does see her other friends being popular because they can please others. I told her that it works for them but not for you. You should never please anyone just be in their friends list. You are what you are. Be humble, polite, nice and kind, but do not please anyone. 

It took me years to understand this, to learn to appreciate my gifts, and I am sharing that very early on with her. Eventually we all have our journeys but the learnings are important. There is a difference between journey in a Benz and a normal basic model second hand car. The good parents, who set a dialogue are like a Benz car. They will make the child's journey, a happy one. 

You only get experience when you do not get what you want - Randy Pausch. 

And sharing that experience is only right. 

At last, for all this 'gyaan', she hugged me and said, 'I love you Aai because you respect me, and understand me better.' We both slept well. 

Thanks!

Trupti

Compassion - not 'another' day

There are days and then there is one specific 'day' that stands out. 

For me 21st Feb was one such day, not 'another' day indeed. 

As a human being, I take pride and credit of showing compassion to known and unknown. 

My philosophy is : you never know the struggle(s) a person is going through, the least you can do is to be compassionate. 

Compassion : a not so small word with not so small meaning. This word is the crux of life. 

Picture credit: 

https://greatergood.berkeley.edu/podcasts/item/happiness_break_meeting_suffering_with_compassion

Going back to pre-Covid times..in the 2018, I met Farida at an organic vegetable stall. Her head covered with a scarf, almost no eyebrows, and she looked pale. She asked me a couple of questions about the fruits and veggies, and bought a few. We introduced to each other and then left the place. A couple of days later we met again. I was accompanying my daughter while she was busy playing with her friends. 

Farida and I chatted and laughed. She was loving the sight of children playing, and rolling on the green grass. From our previous meeting, I knew she was undergoing treatment for a deadly disease. But seeing young life around lifted her mood. After this meeting we met once again and that was the last in the next 2-3 years to come due to Covid. We became friends on FB. I would seldom check on her health via messages. 

During Covid she visited Mumbai for her treatment and appointments but we did not meet. After 2018, we met on the 21st Feb 2023! She had gotten off from FB due to a sad event in her life. She did not want to socialize anymore! I had changed my phone number and she could not direct contact me. Finally she found me from her alternative FB account that she had not operated for years. 

We met over dinner. She wanted to meet Aadhya too. She hugged her and blessed her. It was so good to see her hair, and eyebrows that added beauty to her face. She did not look pale anymore. We chatted and chatted as though we knew each other from years. 

I have this ability of connecting with people. Sometimes it turns out to be good and mostly not so good. Looking at her efforts for finding me, I was touched. She thanked me for just treating her as a normal individual while others treated her differently due to the disease. Never ever has anyone taken efforts or gone that extra mile to make me feel special. But Farida did! I wish her the choicest of blessings. 

Certainly this day made me realize that you will be appreciated by the right person.

More than once, I have been in @#*t because of my over caring, and compassionate nature. It is clear that I can be fooled. But I am learning to be selective, I am learning to read people. I perhaps fail to come across as a strong confident female due to this soft side of mine. That is how I am! 

Some of them think I am mediocre and not so intelligent and can be taken for granted. To each its own.

People who judge others need to get life. They judge achievers, over achievers and under achievers. According to them they are God's perfect creation but without compassion. 

Cheers,

Trupti

PS: I forgot to click a picture with Farida. Sharing one from Google. 

Appreciation - significant but less practiced.

Hello Readers,

With grey hair, receding hairline, and a lot of other bodily changes that metabolically slow you down, this one ability of 'appreciation' has naturally come to me. I am sure my friends of my generation will agree with me. 

Gone are the days when I was care-free, and bursting with energy, those last minute plans after a hectic day at work were still possible. And now, if not the energy levels, it would be getting that homework done from your kid. Then I did not have to worry about secure future, health issues, paying loans. But now I do. 

It is now that I realize, I took my freedom for granted.  

If you have ever complained of curly hair and desperately wanted straight hair - then it is okay. But what is not okay is not appreciating that you have curly hair protecting you from going bald! 

A cancer patient undergoing chemotherapy knows the pain of losing hair. 

We often complain about not having that perfect dress, cycle, car, shoes, phone, and so on but we seldom appreciate what we have. We have so much to thank for. 

Appreciate time: Ask a senior citizen about the importance of time, and you will see his eyes twinkling thinking about some happy moments. At the same time, the twinkle transforms to sorrow, and regret for having lost all that time and having not much left. Every minute you spend watching that video, reading that post, chatting with someone, or any activity, remember that you are doing all of this at the expense of your time. Your time is precious. Appreciate it! Use it well. 

Appreciate opportunity: Lucky are those who have the opportunity. And unlucky are those who waste it. You are blessed to get an opportunity and make the most of it. When you work hard over that opportunity and succeed, that is appreciation. What you make of an opportunity lands you a second one. It is a chain reaction. This is something I have realized during the pandemic, when I was this close to an opportunity and it did not come to me. It did some but after a wait of 3 years. 

Appreciate yourself: We all have grown in different family set ups with different set of challenges. This defines us, and hence we all are different. Your journey to where you are right now is an achievement. Give some credit to yourself, pat your back! We often brutally self-judge ourselves. A little appreciation does wonders. Try it and see find a new you. 

Appreciate others: This is one quality that makes you human. When you appreciate others, you inculcate confidence in them. The positivity in their smile, and the happiness in their eyes after your appreciation removes the negativity. Again it is a chain reaction. Someone appreciates you, you appreciate the next someone. 

Appreciate your loved ones: These are your folks. Your friends and families who are with you through thick and thin. Appreciate their love and kindness. Be thankful that you have them. Life is happy only because of loved ones. These are your shock absorbers through the bumpy journey of life. 

Saying Thank-you and Sorry and meaning it while saying is an expression of appreciation; some one helps you, you thank. You hurt someone, you say sorry. Look into their eyes and say like you mean it. Believe me, simple things like this solve the biggest problems. 

Appreciate nature around you. Take out time to observe the scenery, the birds and trees, and everything around you. The air that you breathe will never be the same again. Being able to do so is a boon. 

Only when you live in the present, you will appreciate. Let it be your virtue. Let you be known as someone who appreciates. People will feel good around you, and you will be surrounded with positive vibes. 

So start appreciating from this very moment. 

However difficult life is, there is always something to appreciate. 

When you look at the positive, you ignore the negative, and nobody likes that! Certainly 'negative-ness' will go away. 

I appreciate your time for reading this. 

Thanks, 

Trupti

Retrospection.

                It took me some 7 years to revisit my blog. The prime reason for this revisit is one of my resolutions of getting back to writing. This writing is 'free', and 'unbound'. At the same time, I want the readers to relate with me, and learn something along with me. I promise not to disappoint you. There comes a time in our life where we reflect on our decisions, friends, achievements, and everything that we have lived through. If this happens to you often then things are about to change. I got into this mode of reflection some three years ago, and I see my life changing at a slow pace. Now I am working on my 'other me', and I see a big difference. 

Questions like: Where am I in my life now? Did I vision myself like this? Can I change my position?  What could I have done differently then? And what must I do now?

               Until my PhD I was a different person, one who believed in improvising everyday. I was regarded as one of the hard working PhD scholar in my department. There were issues like changing department, working without the stipend for three years but I did not quit; thanks to my parents. Finally, I submitted my thesis in 2012. Years of working under stressful conditions had totally changed my perspective towards life. I doubt if I really had one! I wanted a break after thesis submission. Then Aadhya entered in my life. I started growing as a mother but stopped growing in the other dimension. I was a post-doc fellow at University of Bath from 2013 - 2016. When Aadhya was 4.5 months old, I took up the position. So I was again working under stress, fighting against he guilt of leaving my little one at a day care, extracting milk in a secluded room in my department, the hormones astray, and exhausted all the time! Yet I worked but that could not translate as expected. Why? 

                Okay, so this happens with mostly all new mothers. But what I realize now is that I did not have a plan before signing up for motherhood and post-doc. If I had one, things would have been different. I had a strong will for PhD, and I worked really hard towards it. After graduating in 2012 and  until 2019, i.e. for 7 years I was doing things because I got them, not because I had planned for them. But Aadhya remains my best and choicest blessings from the Universe. But I forgot the other aspect of my personality apart from being a mother. I forgot to nourish that other dimension of mine simply because I had no plan whatsoever. 

                A humble request to mothers and ladies who are not mothers/single - do not forget to nurture that other you who dwells within you. Take out time and keep doing things that will 'better' you, develop you. Ultimately you become what you think. Let us not restrict to a gender, or a role, but to an individual, female or male. We all have that other part of us that helps us navigate through our life while we are playing a role of mother, father, daughter, son, wife, husband, and so on. 

              Let that other you be engaged. Basically that other you will define the kind of life you will live. Always have the reins of your life in your hands. Be disciplined, and never stop working on yourself. 

If you ask me what describes me best? - Mother or a Professional? My answer will be - mother. I take immense pride in being a Mother. 

               We all spend so much time proving ourselves in a particular role that we forget to 'other I or other me'. The end result is we are unhappy. And no one else can make you happy but yourself. It is rightly said that the solution to your problem is within you. Nobody knows you better so nobody can make you feel better. 

Hereafter, I will share my experiences, my thoughts on books that helped me grow, my workouts that made a difference, and many interesting anecdotes that are constantly changing me. 

I have subscribed for life-long learning. Are you?

Thanks,

Trupti

Child in you is immortal.

'If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older.'
                                       -Tom Stoppard

The quote above beautifully, exactly and absolutely explains my feelings right now about discovering the childishness in me. That child that always dwelled within me, refused to leave you in my growing years, that child who impishly laughed at my own self, that child who got scared when the light went off suddenly, that child who licked the milky trail of a melted ice cream making its way towards my elbow and more such instances when I am in téte-a-téte with that invincible child in me.

Every time I read a book to my daughter I meet this little child in me. As the story progresses we laugh, we feel sad, we feel hopeful and finally we are happy when little red riding hood is out of the fox's tummy or when Eeyore has a beautiful cosy house to live made by Pooh and Piglet or when 'Aalshi' the honey bee is set free after being trapped in a bottle of honey. With my daughter, I start this journey and relive my moments. Rather my moments are those that we spend together.

I have metamorphosed to a better mother, daughter, wife and lastly a human. This When the ugly 'different' duckling is lonely the smile on her face vanishes. I learn that ugly is being different and with being so comes loneliness but one day the different becomes as beautiful as a Swan and you are not lonely anymore. I learn to be brave just like those three little pigs who came together and kill the wicked wolf. I learn to be a child like Pooh who invents a silly game like 'Poohsticks' and suddenly being silly is the coolest thing ever. At times I am Bubby the sheep who innocently gives away her wool to the needy without expecting it back, I learn the art of giving. My belief in dreams strengthens with Alice who compels me to think about my Dreamland.

Oh! What a magnificent journey these little books take you on! Bedtime story time is our favourite time of the day. After being a mother I realise, my me time definition has changed. My time is our time. A time when I meet my childish version of myself....carefree, relaxed and forever young...when I bond with my little one being a little myself 🙂.

The 'different' Duckling

I am really getting good at reading stories to my little one. It is a daily bed time ritual. Though reading is a daunting task after having had a busy day but it is worth when I see her beaming. 

This blog is one such incident that happened on one fine day while I was walking with my little one along a beautiful pond side. The geese and few ducks were loitering around aimlessly. A pond is not worth watching without ducks and geese and turtles. My little one loved chasing them and they 'quacked' running helter-skelter. 

I am amazed at how these little kids are meticulous observers. For me it was flock of geese and ducks, some were white and some were not. My little one yelled with excitement, "Look Aai, that black duck! It is an ugly duckling."

I immediately answered, "No Aadhya, it is not ugly but it is different."

"Why is it different?"

"Well we all are humans but we have different hair colour, eye colour and skin colour. We are different."

"Okay Aai."

"Neither black is ugly nor white is beautiful. They are just colours."

She must not have understood this but I made a point that she does know that that duck was 'different'. 

My lessons of rational thinking commenced post motherhood. I measure and weigh before speaking to her or in front of her. I am choosy about what I read to her. 

Responsibility is the crux of motherhood or parenthood (in general). What you feed to these young brains goes a long way. As a child I empathised with the ugly duckling. I loathed how the poor little duckling was teased and harassed and bullied. But I loved when it metamorphosed into a gorgeous Swan. 

image - Google

As I grew up I deciphered plenty of hidden morals in that story. Importantly it was about believing in one self. Never feel dejected. Always believe that we all are different and unique. Do not forget to respect 'different-ness' in you and others.

This different-ness could be a blessing in disguise. It could be your strongest asset.

We all were once branded 'different' in terms of looks, intelligence, ability, competence...etc etc but we all made it to where we are today. Congratulations to all of for living with this different-ness.

Oh Yes! We still read the story and go through those emotions of pity and happiness for the little duckling. But every time I read, I do tell her that it is not ugly but different. And that different duckling could swim faster than other ducklings. 

There is nothing shameful about being different. It is good to be different than usual and boring :)

Love 

Trupti

Manthru's controversial perspective.

It is 7 a.m. and time for a cup of tea with the daily newspaper, a routine that Geeta Aunty has been following for years together. Her Mother-in-law never understood the importance of this deadly combination of tea and news together but believed about tea and gossip, together. Needless, Geeta Aunty looked forward to her tea after her morning walks.

Immersed in the newspaper, seated in her posh garden that needs some trimming, about to sip her tea, her mobile beeps. A message from her gardener Manthru that he is going for a rally to support a group of nationalists opposing Bharat Mata ki Jai. Manthru has not even passed his school, never gone to a college or university but what is education to do with intelligence?

Geeta is confused and mutters, " Haan Bhai, Freedom hain."
A few days ago, Manthru had been to a gathering held by a random sanghatna on 'Valid reasons for a Son to look after his father even after marriage - Mera Beta Mera Khoon.'

Anyway, firm on not to spoil her mood, she sips her tea. Nodding her head with a disapproval look on her face, she reads about the Bharat Mata Ki Jai broil! She is right there in the middle of thoughts, Geeta's MIL interrupts, "Bahu, look at the kitchen, it needs cleaning. Vessels need cleaning."
"Ji Mummy ji."
"How will your reading this newspaper help getting our morning chores done?"
"Don't worry Mummy ji, I will do it."
With that curt look on her face MIL says, "I always told my son, marry a less educated girl but he never listened to me."
Geeta is still busy reading. MIL is rambling in the background.
"Cook something good today, my son and your husband is coming home after 15 days from his business trip."
Geeta didn't utter a word, of course she knew her husband is coming; she soaked rajma beans the previous night, his favourite.

The recent ongoing controversies in the country have been disturbing for Geeta like for most of the citizens but right now more disturbing was Manthru's issue.

Geeta finishes the chores, cooks a meal and is waiting for the family to join her for dinner Lunch was managed on previous night's leftovers. She has cooked, Rajma-chaval for Mr Husband who misses this most during travelling, oil free paratha-oil free sabzi and sugar free kheer for MIL and Soup and salad for her daughter who has been struggling to lose some weight.

Everyone is happy eating delicious meal, MIL quotes, "I always told my son that a girl who cooks good is the one with a heart of gold."
Geeta chuckles and serves a little of everything in her plate.
The daughter is proud of her Mum.
The husband is busy enjoying Rajma-chaval.
The sun sets declaring the end if evening and Geeta in no time is in deep slumber after a long laborious day. One more day and her maid will be back to work.

The next day Manthru walks inside the gate and Geeta is enjoying her newspaper and tea; she hasn't gone to to her morning walk today.

"How are you Manthru?"

Manthru answers after a long pause, "Bibi ji, yesterday my son fought to me. His wife is really cunning. Wants me to leave my old mother back in village to die. She is old and getting finicky, needs help."

"Hmmm. Then why do you live with her? Send her to your village"

"Bibi ji, she loves me and cares for me; she is my mother, how can I leave her?"

Geeta repeats the question, "Why did you attend the rally?"

The question remains unanswered and Geeta sips her tea.

Delhi.....yet again!

New Delhi - Delhi - Dilli -- The capital of a populous democracy, famous for masculine Red Fort, tall Kutubminar, bustling Chandni Chowk, gorgeous Taj Mahal in the neighbourhood and its culture.

The memories of Chandni Chowk are still fresh and the aromas of kulche, paranthas, cholle, aalloo tikki...yum yum, the taste lingers. The cycle rickshaws, shawl clad people walking on streets, hot stuffed parathas being cooked by the roadside and served with tea, people grouped and enjoying a puff of beedi, the normal class busy with their everyday life. Dilli ki Sardi ki baat hi kuch aur hain!

Lovely and colourful and cheap markets; Delhi is vibrant and a touch of royalness is witnessed when you see those dainty shy girls clad in salwar kameez and modernly dressed girls redefining fashion; a culture whose foundation is an outcome of fusion of Hindustani and Moghul cuisine, art and culture, which  makes Delhi an exquisite experience.   

Basically, everything about this city comes in a spotlight; the good and the bad.

Nirbhaya gang rape, Mr CM, his tweets, his policies, most polluted city, not so old odd-even car policy and the recent 'world cultural festival' marking 35 years of 'Art of Living.' - Delhi has always been media's favourite.

A recent broil about why only Delhi for world cultural festival? The river is dying and now this event has seen a huge turn-over through out the world.

A lot of criticism and I don't want to get into politics, not my cup of tea.

As a teenager, I remember visiting Mathura on a pilgrimage. The makhanchor, nand laal's bhumi, where a speck of dust too is considered pious, the air, the water and the entire Vrindavan is nothing but a representative of Kanha. Hare Rama..Hare Krishna is constantly ringing in your ears. I encountered those white vaishnavas in saffron robes, immersed in 'Bhakti' and one feels surprised. How can someone of a different culture and lifestyle be so comfortable in a new culture? Fondly known as Krishna's bhumi, it must have been clean during his reign; cleanliness is godliness but I was surprised to see Mathura so filthy, so unclean and unhygienic. We went to banks of Yamuna; it smelled horrid and I never understood a bunch of people led by priests offering prayers to Yamuna; milk, rice grains and flowers with great satisfaction reflecting on their faces. Not only Mathura, a few pilgrim places in Maharashtra - Pandharpur, Tuljapur and Akkalkot are no exception.

Coming back to Yamuna, the pollution was evident but yet people were ignorant though recently several NGO's have taken an effort to cleanse this holy river but why do we need a reason to oppose? Why in the first place a gathering was required to make us all realize 'largely'about the dying Yamuna? It has been dying a slow death for several years...so it is unfathomable to me that a 3 day event is causing a major threat to Yamuna than those industries that have been polluting it for several years.

It only leaves an impression that in today's day and world, there is a set of people who believe in doing something and another set who believes in criticising and not necessarily both are correct.

Sadly, People who talk about Yamuna conservation that is making so much noise now, don't care about:

pollution caused due to them using plastic bags

their habit of littering everywhere

spitting that pan masala

smoking in public places

honking horns

violating traffic rules

smoke given out from their vehicles

indulgence into shopping and buying non-sustainable products

being unkind and rude

gang rapes and child abuse

Not only Delhi but all metros are chaotic, losing their integrity, peace and calm. Our natural resources are at stake. Quality of life is declining. So wake up! People living in East, West and South of India all of a sudden are concerned about Yamuna, which is appreciable but they need to raise their voice for problems in their state, city, town, village they are in has many more problems to be dealt with. 

My question to you is - there must be a river or pond or lake in your surroundings or neighbourhood, what have you done for its restoration so far? Did you stop disposing 'Nirmaalya' or immersing idols of Ganesh and Durga mata?

It would be sensible if we do not become prey to politics and become a part of it, we are highly evolved creatures and something substantial is expected from us. 

Every time you protest, be honest about the reason of protesting. It shouldn't be influenced by religion and politics - be honest and neutral; neither leftist nor rightist, be neutral when it comes to natural resources.

It is not only Yamuna that needs to be conserved and cleansed but also our conscience.

Pic courtesy: Google. 

Dirty lanes..

The only highlight Shruti looked forward to was her evening stroll with her Aaji (grandmother) during those 2 months of summer vacations; that was packed with interesting encounters. Walking through local grocery market, cloth market, old market, libraries, utensils bazaar etc etc. Shruti noted her experiences in her diary that very night.

So much to see, learn and enrich, Shruti was a big fan of her Aaji. 

Today, Aaji decided to trudge through one such lane of the city, mostly populated with houses glued to each other sharing common walls almost looking like compartments of railway, whistles of pressure cookers adding hot steam in air with the aroma of rice and pulses, from somewhere radio playing songs of 80s and 90s, young girls in groups chatting, boys running and screaming, men stretching themselves in lungi's and pajamas discussing their day. 

These were normal houses with normal stories but judgmental eyes never saw the normalcy. The existence of people dwelling in never mattered to rest of the city. Shruti and Aaji passed another patch where women of different sizes, shapes, colour would wear make up and sit on threshold of their houses. She saw a woman, stout, square faced, neatly done eyebrows, dark red patchy lipstick, with a gajra, a cheap but sequined saree with a velvet blouse. Another young woman in a gown sitting with an old man. The other house with a woman getting dressed up and giggling in between and a man sleeping on an iron cot observing her, with lust in his eyes. The neighborhood teen aged girl in salwar kameez with a middle aged man, walking with his arms around her neck.

What Shruti observed was that though these houses looked normal, there was something abnormal about their existence. The women were sad but yet doing what they were supposed to do, they weren't cooking but were wearing make up. There was a man in every house but they didn't look like a family. Some houses had no one but the woman was sitting on the threshold waiting for someone to come, all decked up. A group of women with glittering clothes and loud makeup were chatting and looking around like a hawk. There was something unusual about these houses, these women, their stories and lives.

               

pic courtesy: google

Shruti asked her Aaji, 'Do they look different to me or are they really different. I mean the houses, the women, their lives?' Shruti had only seen them in movies and sort of knew that they exist in the society. 

Aaji smiled, 'You observed right, there is something different and the difference is that they are strong women, who live life on their own terms, they are prostitutes. They have their own society and are comfortable within their circuit. Society doesn't understand them, looks down on them but for me they are a living example of being strong. After all no woman chooses to be a prostitute!'

What is the purpose for me to see this Aaji? asks Shruti innocently.

Aaji replies, 'I want you to understand that the world is a place where flowers and thorns live together, dark and ugly have their own identities, rich and poor have their own existence, normal and abnormality are contradictory. What is abnormal to you is perfectly normal to someone else. So don't judge anyone and before having an opinion, think twice. Just as these women, they became prostitutes due to circumstances, wrong decisions. A person is not good or bad but circumstances and decisions unfortunately make them one'.

Shruti understood something, her Aaji was preparing her for years to come when she will grow as an independent woman in a society that is so biased and judgemental about women. That day she went back and wrote in her diary:

A woman never chooses to be a prostitute. She is a woman first before she is anything else!

Devil...Fear...Smile...Conquer

As ambiguous as the title reads, once can fathom - Devil and Fear share a connection but how can a Devil smile? How can it be conquered?

The most scary, nasty and horrendous looking creature, would lose its charm with that smile.

Devils have been introduced through fairy tales and to me they are just like a speed breaker, when everything is kinda smooth and easy going, there comes a hump - a Devil.
Who is this guy? Who created him?

Unlike its opposite, the Angel, this guy has to be red eyed, a big jaw, long untidy nails, sticky hair that haven't been shampooed for ages and probably a big fat moustache and wait, what is its skin colour? Never understood why Devil is associated with dark?

Oh! So does it mean that a Devil is black, red, purple or of any colour except White? - how racist!

                     pic coutesy: twitter@devil, google

This is debatable and perplexing; his kin Ghost too is equivalently, a weirdo; hanging upside down on some lifeless trees almost like a bat, laughing wickedly and undoubtedly the most ugliest by looks. The whole clan seems to be stereotyped and amazing that none of us has ever seen or witnessed their presence.

Though I agree, when I trudge through a dark lane, my heart thuds and I can almost feel that knot in my stomach. I am scared. Afraid. Perturbed. But by whom? The Devil? But where is he? He hasn't touched me, slit my throat, twisted my arm and not even laughed thunderously but I almost feel he has done all that to me.
With all those goose bumps, I come in light and the Devil is gone. My heart beat is pacified, I have retrieved my throat and arm, there is no more laughter ringing in my ears.

And then I am enlightened that this  guy 'Devil' is nothing but my Fear.

I have encountered this fear; on the first day of my school, writing an exam, facing an interview, riding that bicycle on a road for the first time, giving a presentation, sleeping alone in the bedroom and every such little or big thing where there is a possibility of failure and rejection.

One is fearful when he is consumed by the thought of failure, which leads to rejection.

Now, that one figures out that this Devil, lies within us, the solution to conquer it also lies within us.

If our every failure is perceived as an attempt, a step towards success and achievement of our goal, there would be no fear; no Devil.

So, the next time when your heart is thudding, your throat is dry and about to be slit, your arms seem numb and twisted, thunderous laughter rings in your ears; stand still, get hold of that Devil and look into his eyes, smile at him and he will smile back; do not succumb but conquer him.