Mama barir moja **

We were visiting Bangalore where my brother stays. For Arno, it was heaven..lot of rules were allowed to be broken and the grandparents made most of the decisions rather than the "strict" mom. The best part was ...."you ask for something and you get it". I was offcourse struggling with my inner self trying to appear "cool", feel "chill", react "normal" and sound like a "good mother". Several instances, the urge to box the ears was so strong...............anyway....coming back to the point ;
One of the days when Arno had gradually built up his confidence level to a point where he thought that he can basically get anything and everything , he asked my brother if he can PLAY with the "Chairmans trophy --best employee award" . It is a wonderful glass trophy kept with other such awards in a nice glass cabinet. For Arno , it was very simliar to the "Piston Cup" from the movie Cars ,hence the urge to PLAY!!!!
I said NO. Fullstop.
NO WAY!
He asked again.......NO.....again.....NO.....then I thought it might be wise to try to EXPLAIN PROPERLY (most of the time a proper explanation works much better than a blunt NO).
So I started to "explain" to him how important the trophy was to my brother.
I said (temper totally under control), "Arno, these are not piston cups from movies, these are REAL rewards which my brother got...these are trophies that people get for good work after they are 30".
He said, "Mama, you are WAY MORE THAT 30, how come you dont have these??"
........... A minute of silence.................................

ps: O God Almighty, please give me the wisdom to stop a sentence at the right moment. [Why , why , why did I not stop my last sentence after "good work" ? ]

**(english translation : fun at maternal uncles place)"

Signed "with love"

I am a piece of paper
Light pink with a tiny rose at the corner,
Waiting to be written on.

The wait is long now, it was different before.
These days, I know I am not needed any more..................

Before,
When she picked me gently up,
Her excited heart beat I could hear,
As she sat with a pen in her hand,
Excitement and anticipation, hard to bear
I could see her flushed face,
Trying to weave her thoughts in line,
A slight tremble of hand as the pen touched me ,
Flowing emotions, the pleasure was all mine.
The occasional breaks, as the pen paused,
Fond memories made her smile,
The hug, the kiss, the endearments,
I could share the intimacies, all the while.
A drop of tear, a smudge on the ink,
As she wrote "yours and yours only"
Blurred vision with more drops to come,
If only I could hug her tight, she was sad and lonely.
It was signed "with love", and then a small hesitation before she let me go,
Sealed with a kiss one last time, I was carrying her heart, you know.

Today,
There is a keyboard and you just have to "type"
Life has options, you can "chat" or you can "skype".
"Friends" are "added" with a "request" all the while;
"Smileys" are "entered" to show that you smile,
The "mouse" these days is stronger than the pen;

I lay unhappy in the dark store room waiting,
Till someone picks up the pen again...................



Good Old Days....

Days of pure fun, days of innocent existence,
The period of time is frozen in my mind.

A time of life when life is so beautiful,
Struggling as mad, yet each moment a pleasure;
Silly pranks, stupid jokes, meaningless banter,
Forever to treasure!

Each day a new day to live,
No tomorrow to care for,
The Profs face is the only source of stress,
Some tests, a few classes, low decibel giggles,
Paper rockets flying behind his back,
A sort of “cool” carelessness!!

Each friend – a lifetime friend,
Hot gossip, funny emotions, infinite support,
A bond stronger than blood,
Promises independent of consequences,
Some kept, some broken,
All based on love, pure love unspoken.

Each moment a Kodak moment,
Some happily coloured, few fading grey,
Nicely album-ized, if there is such a verb.
There is no going back.
Turning the pages from time to time and letting my mind wander…………