True Story, Inspirational

New Year … Hope, Dreams, Promises and Resolutions

Posted on Jan 1, 2017Jan 3, 2017 by uma197

Happy New Year NASA Theme

Midnight, 31st day of December – it is almost like the anti Cinderella moment. We await that clock to finally move to straight up ahead. Somehow what we didn’t achieve in 2016 was now going to be possible in 2017. We have hope, we have hope that our dreams are going to come true. We can lose weight, we will get that new job, we will make money, we will find love. It is all possible once that clock moves to 12.00. The unknown future date will somehow bring good luck as at 12.00 midnight. The glamour lasts that whole day. You wish everyone on facebook, on the streets and on the phone.

But by the time 2nd of January rolls around, the cheer, starts to wane. It could be just the reality hit “it’s just another day” or it could be withdrawals from all the alcohol since Christmas. But life does become as mundane as it was on the 29th of December. Still, I think it is alright to have that one moment when the entire world world goes crazy, for love, happiness, peace, and everything else. Because it’s the starting point that you pin your hopes on. Without hope there is no motivation for tomorrow.

Each culture and each family would have their own traditions. Until we came to Adelaide our tradition was to go to Eric and Rajee’s house. The same crowd got together each year. Our kids were really young. Eric would always have sparklers for young and all.

We brought this tradition with us when we moved to Adelaide. My cousin did the Christmas and I did the New years Eve. We had a set of family and friends who became regulars for this event. I love a full house. The banter, the laughter, the noise, the chaos it all makes it a happy home.

Last night sure was a strange one. In my nearly 30 year marriage hubby and I have never been apart on New Years. He is away in Sri Lanka due to his fathers passing. My youngest is in Japan. This is the first year, he has missed his birthday, Christmas and New Year from the family. Mum had to make a dash to Sydney with the forth funeral for the month. Right now there are more pets in the house than humans.

2016 sure has been an interesting year. The end has come crashing down with four deaths which had put a massive damper on my mood. But, it had some great moments as well. My son Hari graduated. His friend Trent graduated. A Super proud mum – super proud moments. Hari after a rough start, finally got his first proper job. I am an Engineers mum. This mum’s on top of the world.

Then a bunch of us turned 50 this year. We organised a school reunion and met some of my school friends after nearly 30 years. That was just an awesome time. We relived our youth. We rekindled our friendship. Almost a week of celebrations.

My bestie/sis-in-law and I went to Goa to celebrate to our monumental birthday. Found a new city to be pampered. Again we laughed till we cried. We ate, we drank and was silly till early hours. Found our youth in between complains of aching bones.

Then came the grand finale. Bang, bang, bang. People just dropping like flies to Mortein. Death is part of life and I have to reconcile that. Hard as it may be to swallow when it’s unexpected and it is someone you want to see again, we still must move on. Apparently. So I shall not dwell. Happy that the final news was that my nephews wife is pregnant.

Spoke to hubby around 3.00 am. He had just got back to the lonely hotel room after visiting relatives. It might have been around 10.00 or 11.00 pm over there. I wish he was here. I see this message on my phone, “are you still up?” Yes of course I was wide awake counting sheep. Spoke about the two boys. Spoke about the dog. We are grateful for what we have and hopeful of our future. Cannot ask for more.

Happy 2017 everyone.

Man proposes and God Disposes (part 2)

Posted on Dec 19, 2016Dec 19, 2016 by uma197

tmp14

My father in law (mama) passed away on the 28th November 2016. We were getting him prepared for a Cataract Operation and leaves us with a heart attack. Well, he was old, he was slowing down, but he was still managing his own things. He could shower by himself etc. So obviously this came from no where. Well, saying that, we only recently came to know of his weak heart.

With all three kids out of Sri Lanka, his well fare and what do we next had been a major worry for us lately. Just about two years ago just after his 80th he contracted an infection on his leg, then last year he broke his thigh bone and had to undergo an hip replacement surgery. Since then we saw a slight decline of his health and his morale. I also think passing of his mate PM was another reason.

So Jana hopped into his room on the 28th morning, full of beans. He was surprised to see her as she wasn’t meant to be there till the 30th. India was having a “hartal”, I have been informed it is a kind of strike action where all the shops and businesses are closed. So Jan changed her plans and got to Sri Lanka by the 27th night. She gave dad a big hug and said, “ok, dad we have things to do today” ( I don’t know if thats what she said word to word, but I imagine knowing her personality it would have been something along those lines), made him a cup of coffee, and explained the reason for her early visit. She needed to change some local currency and she had decided to do some shopping for her dad as well, she asked him to be ready to go and see the doctors regarding the eye surgery. Mama reluctantly said “ok then”.

She was on her merry way and suddenly she stopped before she reached the gate. Went back and said “I didn’t give you a kiss”, gave him that kiss and left. Mama had managed to shave and then gone to have a shower. He had an aide who stayed with him during the day. He was making him porridge and heard mama calling out “Rajan, Rajan” he found him collapsing. Jana returned home when the chaos was unfolding. They rang for the ambulance and she rang me while waiting for the ambulance.

I was asking her “is he conscious”. Jana was not answering my questions, I guess we were both trying to talk at the same time. The phone line was rather bad as well. Anyway she hung up quickly as soon as the ambulance got there. That was just a 2 second phone call.

I was thunderstruck, sat there for awhile trying to gather my thoughts and words. Now I had the task of calling hubby and his other sister who lived in Sydney. I did it. Hubby was going to come home so we could ring again ask what’s going on. His sister said she was going to call another relative who was also a Cardiologist, who knew all the medical history of mama.

I was seated, staring at the phone to ring. 20 minutes later the phone rings, maybe 15, I don’t really know, She was sobbing “appa (dad) is gone”, “What do you mean?!!!” “appa is gone“. I had no words to say other than “Ennamma” (kind of like saying why hun”) , we both sobbed. I wish I was there to hug her, hug her tight. She was there for me. But I have never been there for her.

I thought what poor luck does this girl have. First her mum, then she was the only one at home when the 1983 riots broke and her house was set on fire, then her hubby and now her dad. The other two have always escaped doing the hard things. But probably I have to look at it in a different light. She was the lucky one to have had the opportunity to make him that last coffee, to have remembered to give him that kiss. She wasn’t even going to be there till the 30th, even a twisted fate helped her to be there.

Everything else after that is a haze. I somehow got the nerve to call hubby and sister. They left the next day to Sri Lanka.

There is no point talking about his passing or the funeral anymore. He is gone and that’s that. What ever we wanted to tell him but didn’t was a missed opportunity, What ever we managed to tell him or do for him was a blessing.

There are many life lessons to learn from this man. Good, bad and the ugly. But they are all lessons nevertheless. He sure leaves an amazing legacy. Proud to have been his daughter in law. I am not sure if he ever regarded me as his daughter in law. I was always a little girl who was his daughter’s friend. Ah no I did become his daughter in law when ever he didn’t see eye to eye with his son. Not that I didn’t have moments of exasperation thinking “why me” have to deal with these two bull heads. But he was no ordinary father in law. He was in fact an extra ordinary man. He was a bit warped at times. But aren’t we all.

I will gather my thoughts in the next couple of days and do justice to his memory.

Cont…

Sri Lanka, True Story, Inspirational

Man proposes and God Disposes (part 1)

Posted on Dec 11, 2016Dec 19, 2016 by uma197

tmp14

“Man proposes and God Disposes” this saying was a frequent quip from my father in law.

I open my blog after a nearly a month, it could be even more. So much has happened in that time.

My first blog after the Holidays was going to be about my holiday in Goa. It was going to be about my anxiety, concern about going to India on my own. And how different it all turned out to be. How I was so wrong to perceive that the entire India was going to be this dirty place and untrustworthy people. From the time I landed in Mumbai to the time we left Goa, it was nothing but a perfect dream. We found this amazing pocket of paradise in that vast country. It was just me and my bestie who also happens to be my sister in law (she joined me from another country) in this place and we were pampered and taken care of like queens. We ate, we drank, we laughed and we cried. We were 5 not 50.

I will definitely write about that experience, when I feel a little bit chipper, to do justice to the place, the people we met and everything else.

I arrived back in Australia on the 24th of Nov. Frantically getting things ready for my son who was leaving for Japan for 3 months and fighting jet lag at the same time. While I was holidaying my son had to endure one of lives hard lessons, losing a mate. Well it started with his mate Jack and then one after another we went through 3 deaths in a span of two weeks.

After I left for Australia my sister in law went to another place in India to meet up with other friends and then she headed to Sri Lanka to see her dad. She was there on the 27th night. It was rather late so she headed straight to the Hotel and got to bed. She was up rather early the next morning. She was taking photos of the view, and sending it to us, also some from Goa, some crazy things we got up to, then armed with “whatsapp” on our phones we rang and spoke to her about her days agenda.

My Father in law required a Cataract Operation. For what ever reason he was not too keen on it.

Cont ….

Sri Lanka, True Story, Inspirational, Word prompt

Graceful as Hippo in a Tutu

Posted on Oct 9, 2016Oct 12, 2016 by uma197

hippo-in-tutu

Not that I am clumsy, but certain outfits make me feel like I am walking on stilts. It’s not the shoes, but it is the clothing that makes me and my family nervous.

Although now living in Australia, I originally hail from the little island of Sri Lanka. Our traditional garb is a saree. We don’t wear it everyday, but required to wear it for most traditional events, such as weddings and engagement parties etc.

The first time a girl wears a saree is on her coming of age ceremony. However, she then goes on to wear other half hearted versions of the saree. I guess, I should explain what a saree is first.

saree

This amazing outfit, has no zips or buttons, just held together with a few pins and a lot of hope. Have you seen the advertisements for couch covers? On the ad you see a well made couch, with pleats and bows. And you think amazing, this will give my dead couch the face lift. And you order the couch cover in. And voila you open the online order delivery package, and what do you find, well in fact, just a really great long piece of material. The pleats and bows are up to you or you could just throw it over the couch or throw the couch itself. Some are talented and after the initial disappointment of seeing a long piece of material they can make something of it. However not everyone is that talented or successful. Well it is the same with a saree. It is just a piece of material that is 6 yards long.

You wear a blouse that is really tight. Really tight, sleeves the body, and all over. It’s like wearing a swim suit made out of cotton. By the time you get in to the blouse you are out of breath. This is the Indian version of the Victorian era Bodice.

Then comes the underskirt. This skirt does not have an elastic, noo… it has a rope/cord. Which once again is used to tie it really tight. Now that your boobs are squished and a cord that has stopped circulation around your waist line, you now start draping the six yard material by tucking one end of it into the skirt. The more advanced you are, you use less pins to form the shape above. It is harder than you think or it looks. Although for most of my country folk it comes rather naturally. Then again for most, gardening comes very naturally while I manage to kill even a cactus.

I have to admit the saree does make most look very graceful and elegant.

Front on, in this picture you can’t see any body. But, don’t be fooled. There is a massive gap between the blouse and where the skirt starts. So from side on there is a great view of the woman’s midriff. So to assume that this is a graceful and conservative garb is not entirely correct. However, the elders of the society will not accept you rocking up in a pair of pants and a top that covers the midriff.

Coming back to when do we start to wear the saree. Traditionally the first day would be on your coming of age ceremony. But then after that you are not required to wear it until you are in your late teens. As I said there are half hearted saree like garb that are acceptable by the society.

half-saree

Which is pretty much an elaborate skirt and a shawl that pretends to be half a saree. But at this age you are not rebelling. Because this is a new experience. And this is just dressing up to be half an adult. Remember helping dad to wash the car. Yep, the novelty wears off. But to begin with you are very excited, then by the time you are old enough to actually help, you are no where to be seen. Well not for everyone. Many love wearing the saree. I am still waiting for that day.

Sarees are one size fits all. And I think that is one of the problems for me. I am even short for an average Sri Lankan or Indian. And so a lot has to be tucked into my skirt. And you have to also walk very lady like. When growing up, when my mum couldn’t find me, all she had to do was look up a tree. And she would find me quite comfortably perched on a branch, reading a book and munching on the fruits.

I wouldn’t call myself a complete tomboy. I like getting a pedicure, buy shoes and handbags. But, find pants in winter and shorts in summer as a very practical garb. High heels is not that practical but they do make me look a bit taller. So when I wear a high heel with a saree the outcome can be very interesting. My mum is the only one who can successfully drape me. When I say successfully, I mean with minimum scene. I walk in like a wound up robotic doll and take a seat and hope to never get up again. Unless I am walking, I look very graceful. What annoys me most now is some our international relatives have taken to wearing the saree for our functions. And seem to be walking around, as if they have been wearing it all their life.

Mum and I went to Japan last year. “When in Rome”…. Decided we should try wearing the Kimono.

kimono-uma

I was really excited. There are places where you can hire these outfits and they drape it for you and you can hang on to them for the rest of the day. You can walk around that little city area. So you get the whole experience. Same deal. Traditional outfits for women were designed to restrict their breathing. Or, it was like breast check, this was more like rib check. By the time I came down those steep stairs and out the door, I had realised that these type of garbs looks nice on other women or on a manikin rather than on me. Once again my mum walked around as if she has been wearing this all her life.

I think this hippo has learnt it’s lesson and quite happy with her pants.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/graceful/

Daily post, Sri Lanka, True Story, Inspirational, Word prompt

First day back after a month’s silence

Posted on Oct 5, 2016Jul 10, 2017 by uma197

gsck

It’s nearly a month since I wrote anything. Many reasons but mainly because of the reunion. I missed writing. With work and reunion planning and then a full house did not give me much opportunity to write. I sat down for a bit yesterday to write. After staring at the keyboard I retreated back to just liking things on facebook. Looked at the Daily Post word prompt to get a start. The word is Breakthrough. All I could think of was the scene on “Good will hunting”, Robin Williams telling Matt Damon “It’s not your fault”, It was fresh in my mind, as I had just watched it for the millionth time today. I am no movie critic, if I was, it would be a pretty short one, “I liked that movie or I didn’t really like that”. So I started to read a few of the other contributions under the topic “breakthrough”. There was one from hotwhitesnow on writers block. Exactly what I needed to breakthrough the fog.

https://hotwhitesnow.wordpress.com/2016/01/05/writing-through-writers-block/comment-page-1/#comment-989

Months of planning, too and fro about the date, the venue, the numbers, catering, table decor, the list goes on. Finally the girls were at our doorsteps and the day was here.

Some of us were meeting after nearly thirty years. We attended a school called Good Shepherd Convent, (in Kandy, Sri Lanka). Most westerners when they hear the end of the name “Convent”, they wonder if I was going to be a nun. The schools were originally established by the English missionaries. We didn’t have many co-ed Schools. So the girls schools were always attached to a nunnery and hence the name Convent. The nuns ran the school and the boarding.

Kandy is the capital of the Hill country. Most of the hills region are Tea Plantations. So, other than a handful of so called staff the rest would be Indian labour force brought in by the English to work on the tea fields. Woes of this labour force is a story for another day. Education was not the major priority for these folks. Needless to say the local schools were really not geared for higher education. So most of the parents sent their kids to boarding schools in Kandy or Colombo. Parents of girls mainly preferred to send their daughters to Catholic schools, even those who were not Catholics. They liked the discipline and conservative up bringing. I am rolling my eyes at this last sentence. Still let me continue.

Our school stands tall and proud on that hill and gives me goosebumps every time I see a picture of it or hear the school anthem ” Triumphantly we raise it the standard of our school, oh may we ever be faithful to our Alma mater’s rule…”

I am not totally sure if we became well disciplined or more rebellious, I am not sure if we adhered to the conservative up bringing or became more free thinkers, but I am certain that in spite of the rubbish we had to put up we became quite bonded. We became a family. I think we were united against that common enemy, the nuns of course.

With the civil war, marriage and migration most of us dispersed to different parts of the world. I lost contact with all of them. It was as if I had no childhood friends. My husband, his work and his circle of friends became my life. Then after the kids, it was the kids, hospitals trips, coughs and colds, Nebuliser and Ventolin became my life. No complains, it was my choice, well not much of a choice, that was what unfolded, life was dumped on me and I had to run with it.

Then probably about 7 years ago, I gave into joining Facebook. I had just come out of surgery. I had just been given the news that I have survived cancer. I had a major phiffany, “life’s too short to be doing just mundane things”. I had this major urge to connect with people that I had lost contact, from my old work places, from my old school etc.

Stumbled across Amalie on facebook. I only knew Amalie vaguely. She was younger than me and she was a day scholar. I only knew her because she used to hang out with Didi (a fellow boarder). I sent her friend request anyway. Seeing I was from the same Alma Mater, she accepted. That was the beginning. She was friends with a truck load of my friends from the boarding.

Some of us had changed in shapes and sizes. Many a OMG’s followed by “how many kids? Messages going back and forth, especially between me and Suzy girl. Then I found Binah. We were the best of buddies in the boarding. She left for Canada before finishing school. I was distraught when she left. Binah couldn’t wait any longer. She rang me earlier than the time we decided to call each other. We were just so happy. Then came a few other moments like that when I chatted with Praba and Malini. Found out that Vasugi lives in Brisbane and Tessa in Victoria. Shazee had not changed much at all. Just had longer hair.

Learnt that we’ve all gone through various pain and happiness. Some had lost their husbands, while some regretted their marriage. Some had lost a child and fighting with every might to continue. Some had done well in their careers and some not so. Some of us survived the dreaded C but sadly some didn’t.

But when we chatter, for that moment, we are back in school. We are connected by the memories of that school. We are once again united by that school. I am still trying to recover from that one week of partying. We laughed more than we drank. We danced more than we slept. That was a reunion to remember.

2016-09-24-19-49-34

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/breakthrough/

Daily post, True Story, Inspirational, Word prompt

Can you have your Cake and Eat it too?..

Posted on Sep 7, 2016Sep 7, 2016 by uma197

have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too

Before I start let me get the disclaimer out first:

Following are not life skills I am teaching or preaching to anyone. These are methods/tactics/rationalisation I do to deal with my own sweet tooth issues. So even if it sounds like advice, even if it sounds like I am steering you towards my ways, well it’s just your perception not mine. I am the author of this cheat sheet, however, the intended customer was myself. If you wish, you could copy and adopt any of my suggestive ideas, but you do so, at your own risk and advisement.

I have a serious addiction to chocolate, cakes, mousse, brownie, anything sweet I guess. My ideal house would have been the house made of candy in “Hansel and Gretel”. I am someone who would first check out the dessert menu at the restaurant. I order my main, depending on the dessert. If I like the dessert, then I will order a light main, something with no carb, a piece of fish etc. I just loooove sweets. Mainly dark chocolates and cakes. I like most cakes, I believe a good mud cake is an art form and cheese cakes should be on the menu in heaven.

This doesn’t mean that I don’t know the harm that sugar does to my body. But the joy it gives my tongue, the taste buds, which then sends the euphoric signals to my brain, to my mood, is all far greater and out weighs the harm it does to my waistline and the scales.

I believe that life is about balance. It is about strategies and maybe you can find a way to have the cake and eat it too. I have eaten salad for lunch and then finished it with a piece of mud cake. 50:50 I say.

So my strategies:

I rather have a piece of cake than a piece of bread. So that’s what I do.

I have very little carb (carbohydrates) through out the day, to save room for that chocolate at the end of the day or maybe sometimes even during the day.

I sip black tea or green tea all day long. No sugar and no milk. I don’t miss it in my tea, but I will definitely miss my chocolate at the end of the day. Even milk has a bit of Carb, so avoid that too, see this is all strategy.

I prepare most things at home, so there is no hidden sugar, eg bread, cakes, biscuits, most meals. We very rarely buy any pre cooked or fast food.

I don’t mind exercise, even a 6k run on a Sunday is worth it, if I can have a piece of cake.

So that’s my cheat sheet. It’s not perfect. But, hey it’s better than none. And I believe life is a balance.

have-cake

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/cake/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/cheat/

Daily post, Sri Lanka, True Story, Inspirational, Word prompt

Shiver me timbers, “it’s cold in Sri Lanka?”

Posted on Sep 3, 2016Sep 3, 2016 by uma197

PIC_0024

It was nearly sixteen years since we migrated to Australia from Sri Lanka. A lot had changed since then, we’ve aged, we were now parents, I think that was the biggest change. We were not the same carefree young one’s roaming around, on a bike. Mortgage, kids, kids getting sick, nearly losing a kid, other one losing his hearing, trials and tribulations, life was passing us with a fierce force.

So going back to the mother land was pushed back and back, until we could see a reprieve. Then, finally we make that trip back home. After months of shopping (gifts) and packing we arrive in Colombo around midday, June 2006. The strong waft of humidity and hot air came piercing through the corridors, with a rush and urgency. Leaving a country in the middle of winter to arrive for this was pretty hard.

It was pretty brutal weather for the next couple of weeks. Boys were really struggling with the weather and food (too spicy for their tender tongues). The mosquitoes were ruthless, it didn’t matter if we were sitting or walking they still got us, who knew that they can get you in transit. But the boys were still enjoying different aspects of the trip. This was the first time they were meeting their paternal grandfather. This was the first time they were eating pawkies (bite size Sri Lankan sausages), this was first time they saw a squirrel running up the mango tree. Well, this was first time they saw a mango tree. And that I think is the best thing about travel. Something so mundane for the local is an attraction to the visitor.

The next week or so was going to be in the hill country. Which is where I grew up. The fauna, flora and the weather in the hill country, is absolute contrast to that of Colombo or other parts of the coast. As you go further up from the coast, sea and coconut trees changes to paddy fields and slightly cooler weather. And as you go even further up, Pine trees, water falls, light drizzle and sometimes a cold fog becomes the norm.

I was packing a smaller bag for this trip. My husband had a glance at what I was packing. There were a couple of jumpers, a jacket each, some jeans and long pants, a beenie … “Are you kidding me?” he holds up the beenie, “are you mad? when has it ever been that cold?” After the treatment of Colombo, the boys of course were on dad’s side. “yeh mum”

I started to doubt myself too. It was a long time ago since I lived in Talawakelle. I still packed a few things. But for the journey itself, there was no way the boys were going to rug up. So the two of them were in a singlet, a pair of shorts, and a pair of thongs (okay for non aussies, they were not wearing what you are thinking of and going oh my, it is just a pair of flip flops, slippers, a footwear with just strap or what ever else you want to call them). Okay you can have another laugh, we call them thongs.

They were enjoying the scenery. After our lunch stop we didn’t need the A/C. It was starting to drizzle. It was starting to get cold as well. We stopped for tea and cake. And there was a giant tea pot right outside the cafe. A great tourist attraction. Hubby the photographer wanted a photo of this with the boys. The boys were now shivering. You could hear their teeth rattle and hands shivering. They were finding it hard to keep their eyes opened, with the falling rain. Dad still wanted the photo for his Pulitzer collection. Grr… It was obvious that their miniature mother’s anger and annoyance was now growing to a level of that’s enough now.

The boys were so relieved to find that one pair of pants and jumper that their mother had packed for them. Both of them uttered “who would have thought we could have a place like this in Sri Lanka”. Well, the moral of the story is listen to your mother, listen to the woman (okay that’s a bit sexist, well… too bad), listen to the expert.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/fierce/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/shiver/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/obvious/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/miniature/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/expert/

True Story, Inspirational

If Only, I Could Turn Back The Clock … (part 9)

Posted on Aug 22, 2016Aug 24, 2016 by uma197

dad lab

Jana came running back as soon as she heard what unfolded that morning. Mum and cuz Sulo got back from the hospital. An uncomfortable silence kept the room still. We each avoided eye contact. Thangamma served the food for us and served her plate too and sat down with a heave. I am not sure where the food came from either. I cant remember anyone cooking. Maybe it was left overs. We all ate in silence. Even Jana was quiet. She is never quiet. But tonight she was.

What now, another surgery I guess. After dinner Jana and I went to see our cousin Sulo to get some medical know how. I don’t even know who suggested and came up with idea. Cuz Sulo’s house felt heavy too. She never stops singing or humming. But tonight she was all done. We asked her what now? another surgery? She shook her head, “I don’t really know, It may be too close for another surgery”. I think she knew, just that she didn’t really want to know.

I don’t know how long we were there for, and what we spoke about. I think we all just sat in three different chairs and pondered to our selves. We both got back home and went to bed straight away. Jana slept on the next bed. Mum and Thangamma were in the next room. My memory is rather foggy, I can’t even be sure if Thangamma was there that night or for that matter in the morning or had she returned to TRI a couple of days ago. But I know for sure that Jana was right next to me.

I had issues with the clock and sheep the whole night. Sheep kept multiplying and the clock refused to move. I think mum had the same problem in the next room. By five o’clock we both gave up on sleep and sheep, and got to the kitchen the same time. We made our coffees and sat down to discuss what to take for dad. Usually mum would pack fresh clothes and some home cooked food for dad. Velu stayed the night with him. But on this day, we didn’t know what to pack.

We hear Parames Mami’s voice. I think she was relieved to see lights switched on in our house indicating we were up. She never visits us this early.

It’s Dad’s birthday tomorrow. I so, don’t want to continue any further. But I think I ought to. Just because I suppress the memory, it doesn’t mean, that it doesn’t exist or it didn’t occur. I turned fifty this year. I guess I am big girl now. But in my heart I am still daddy’s little girl.

Parames Mami didn’t have to say anything, she just held her arms wide to hug mum, and mum and I started to weep. It’s all a blur after that.

Dad never got to see my funny birthday card. Dad didn’t get a chance to approve (or disapprove) Ganesh. Although I have a feeling he knew something. He did mention to me once, quite randomly, “Ganesh is a nice boy isn’t he?”. I really like to think he did and he was happy for me. More than anything, Dad never got to meet his two amazing grand kids and vice versa. I have in time learnt to accept it as, “it’s fate”, “it was not meant to be”.In actual fact, it is just chants copied from others as a coping mechanism.

All this from start to finish, was just sixteen days. The clock was ticking and turning a day at a time. Each day with a twist, turn and at times with another nail for the box. We had no idea, that the clock was still ticking. Even when we thought that it had stopped and time had stood still, it was really still ticking.

This story has no happy ending. But, I guess that is life, it doesn’t always give you the results you demand or deserve. We just have to remember the ticking clock stops for no one, make the most of life while it’s still ticking.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/clock/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/fifty/

True Story, Inspirational

Blogger Recognition Award

Posted on Aug 22, 2016Aug 24, 2016 by uma197

thelearnify-3

Thank you Aki

https://thelearnify.wordpress.com/

for the nomination. Sorry for taking so long to act on this. I still don’t know what I am doing and if this all correct.

As you can tell I am not tech savvy but I guess I have been nominated for my blogging efforts rather than my tech knowledge.

So my story, my agenda ..

I started blogging at the end of May 2016. Before blogging I wrote, The Dreaded “C” word

https://uma197.wordpress.com/2016/05/30/27/

and showed it to a couple of close friends. They all loved it and some suggested that I should publish it as a book. Just like my tech skills, I have no knowledge on publishing either. I rang a publishing company and realized there was much work to be done even before I can submit a manuscript. Need to print it double spaced (or something like that), put it into chapters etc. So, it went into the “not now” basket. To a certain amount this Blogger Award got the same treatment. Then one sunny day (not sure if it was sunny, but not so poetic to say one rainy day for a positive comment) a friend of mine suggested that I should at least start to blog. When the second friend said the same thing, I thought it was time to look further in to it.

I am still struggling and refusing take the training wheels off, in terms of the tech side of WordPress. But, thoroughly enjoying the activity of writing and reading similar blogs.

As per the conditions of this award I am supposed to give advise to new bloggers.

I don’t think I am in position to advise others on blogging, all I can say, obviously what you have to say is important to you, so just say it. I do it with words, more like a story, but I have seen others do it beautifully with poems, as documentaries, pictures, photographs. What ever is your style or mode use it. There are no rules to what and how you are supposed to blog.

My nominations are:

https://rabbitpatchdiary.com/

You how much I love your blog. your blog gives me the calm, a smile and the sunshine for the day. If you already have been nominated and not wanting go forward, totally understand.

https://perfectreverieblog.wordpress.com/

Thought provoking, poetic amazing

https://akankshajalan.wordpress.com/

Another budding writer, who gives me tears, chills, “a mothers reply to her daughter my personal favourite.

https://digforthepony.wordpress.com/

A daughter writes so beautifully about her mother’s battle with cancer. This story rings so true to me as well. But from different platform.

https://travelmuch.net/

Beautiful photographs and history of very unusual places. Sometimes just usual places. Sometimes recipes. But most of all she loves “Asterix and Oblix’. I am sold

https://thelearnify.wordpress.com/2016/06/23/blogger-recognition-award/

Have fun