Tag: daily word prompt

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

Word Association – Broken

Posted on by uma197
word association
Broken – Arj

 

Once again I look for a word prompt from wordpress for inspiration.  The word Broken catches my eye.

Word Association is a game that is played ‘just for kicks’ at most school or even work team building outings.  On the surface it comes across as a very innocent game.  But if you were a savvy psychologist you would seriously analyse the answers from each individual.

Let’s take the word Broken.  Many words could follow that.

Broken – heart.  depends on the speed of the answer.  Quite possible the person is  a                                         recent single .

Broken – down   He/she isn’t driving a brand new car

Broken – Leg       Very possible this answer could be from my eldest after one his ski trips

Now I will give you my answer,

When I heard the word Broken the first thing that came up in my head was ‘Arj’.  I am almost certain that would have been the same for my husband and even my eldest.

Broken – Arj  –  Makes a lot of sense in our family.  Although family member ‘Arj’ would vehemently deny that statement.

Arj is my youngest who was born with too much oomph.  He came out with a mighty hurry and with a lot of gusto.  Even after twenty one years there is no sign of the brakes being applied.  Over the years he has gathered more muscle and strength.  Which doesn’t help our course nor the items in our household.

The unbreakable ‘Tonka Truck’ was no match for this kid.  Yes that was broken too.

 tonka

So you can imagine the condition of the rest of his toys.  Many number of toys came from  my nephew who was a few years older than my boys.  It would come in pristine condition.  Hari is not as gentle as my nephew but the toys would still have a lot life in them when they get to Arj.  With Arj they meet their demise pretty soon.

Gentle touch and patience are two words you will never associate with Arj.  When he closes a door (any door) the whole house shudders.  He walks as if he is in the Army barracks and being ordered to march.

Two recent incidents:

Arj travels to Sydney to catch up with his brother and head off for skiing.  Hari picks him up from the airport and they head off straight to the slopes.  Its a good 5 – 6 hr drive when you don’t include traffic.  After 2-3 days of skiing they head back to Sydney.  Not sure if they planned to leave late or boys being boys, they leave the ski lodge late.  Hari takes on the wheels again.  They get home late.  Hari was really tired and wanted a long hot shower.  So he asked Arj to have a shower first, so that he could have a nice relaxed long shower after.  (Hari and I are mindful of the environment, but not when we are having a shower).  By the way this was a brand new apartment.  Building was completed only a couple of months ago and Hari had moved in a month ago.  Arj switches on the light in the bathroom.

Total blackout.

Well as per Arj he just touched the switch.  Hari found the switch completely sunken into the wall.  It had fused the whole thing.  Yes, Arj claims it wasn’t his fault, it must have been cheep workmanship according to him.  How Hari managed to live there for a whole month without coming across this poorly crafted light switch is really remarkable.

The Second incident that comes to mind is the refrigerator  door handle.  It was a regular weekend in our household.  Washing machine, Dryer and vacuum cleaner were getting a work out.  Arj was going to feed the turtles and then the two of us were going to wash the dog.  The turtles have frozen meals and this is kept in our spare refrigerator in the laundry.

Snap! crash! what ever other sound a refrigerator door handle makes when breaking.

Again Arj gently touched the door handle to gently open it.  It was probably a very poorly made refrigerator.  Arj was left to hold part of the door handle that was now very securely in his palm.

I have had the pleasure of living past the golden jubilee.  In this life time I have heard of broken heart, broken leg and broken down. I have heard of broken switch as well.  But never in this fashion.  I have NEVER heard of  a broken refrigerator door handle.

We all agree with such gentle touch of Arj, it really cannot be his fault that so many things crumble at the sight of him.  We as a family must strive to buy and build better things.

 

Broken https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/broken/

Posted in Suicide, Word prompt

She wears her heart on her sleeve but then…

Posted on by uma197

I am going to attempt as many daily prompts https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/ as possible to come up with this post.

heart on her sleeve

She wears her heart on her sleeve. What you see is what you get.

It all comes to an abrupt end.

She observes the change in society.

The tide has turned.

Did she look at ‘tumbler’ for a mentor?

What pierced her bubble?

Why won’t she flaunt her sleeves again?

What caused her rapid decline?

I miss her laughter. The one that starts five minutes after.

The rebel is lost. Forest of self doubt has taken over.

This forest harbors the skewed society views as well

Which now threatens her core self.

Her Laughter has come to an abrupt end.

As I started writing my inner mind went back to memories of Vicky.

https://uma197.wordpress.com/2018/05/17/vicky-has-the-last-laugh/

Sleeve https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/sleeve/

Abrupt https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/abrupt/

Observe https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/observe/

Tide https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/tide/

Mentor https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/mentor/

Bubble https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/bubble/

Flaunt https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/flaunt/

Rapid https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/rapid/

Laughter https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/laughter/

Rebel https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/rebel/

Forest https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/forest/

Skewed https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/skewed/

Core https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/core/

Slight https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/slight/

Pedigree https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/pedigree/

Thin https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/thin/

Infect https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/infect/

Posted in Daily post

Waiting ….

Posted on by uma197
DSC02416
I miss mum

DSC02449

What’s taking her so long?

DSC02452

Hang on! Is that mum’s car?

DSC02457

Yes I think so.  Finally.

 

Waiting…

Waiting is part excitement and part anguish. The part anguish is made up of plethora of sub emotions.  Anguish divvies into several heads like the Hindu Gods.  Boredom, impatience and then progresses to annoyance, irritation and finally escalates to panic.  Usually does a full circle and completes with relief and sometimes unfortunately disappointment.

This was my great epiphany while waiting for my mum at the airport.

Mum was returning after her three month holiday overseas.  I cooked, shopped and stocked her fridge yesterday.  Set my alarm up for an early start.  Tossed and turned all night, worrying if I may miss the alarm.  Woke up earlier than the alarm and thought it was for the best.  But still the daily chores got in the way of being early at the airport.

As per ‘Murphy’s Law’ every slow driver and every red light was my companion for the drive.  After circling three times, I finally manage to park my car.  I was just hoping that for my sake that either there was a delay in baggage collection or at customs and that mum wasn’t waiting anxiously for me.

I glance at the flight status board as I rush in.  Good, the flight has not landed.  I contemplate grabbing a coffee, I didn’t want to part with the money just as mum exited those doors.  I decided on having that coffee after all.  Made the request for a short macchiatto, just in case I didn’t have enough time to finish a larger coffee.  Perched myself on the bar stool that had the direct view of the arrivals.  Even though I was running late, I still came prepared with my little ‘mini tab’ to do some writing.  Just in case.

By this time it was half an hour passed arrival time.  Flight status remained the same.  Another fifteen minutes passes.  Under the guise of writing my emotions were getting the better of me.  I skipped boredom.  Patience – I wasn’t impatient waiting but the airport arrivals website was definitely testing my patience.  

As per the website there was no mention of the aircraft.  This website is supposed to show all flights that was meant to arrive on that day and their flight status.  Frustrated,  I decided to check the Malaysian airlines website.  It stated that the plane had departed Malaysia.  And that’s all.  No mention of delayed or approximate time of arrival.  I gave another ten minutes and checked the two websites again.  Same messages.  On Adelaide airport’s website there was no mention or acknowledgement of the aircraft and Malaysian Airlines just says that it departed.

My mind was refusing to come out of the pit of panic.  Fates of MH137 and MH17 infiltrates logical thinking.  My positive outlook and glass half full attitude were shying away to the back seat.  Still I muster everything in me not to panic as I logically think that no one else was panicking around me.  I think maybe just maybe ‘flight tracker’ should/could tell me more.  Thankfully it did.  The flight was delayed approximately by one hour.  Sigh of relief.

The emotions start all over again once the passengers start to arrive.  I am regular at airport pickup as my husband travels a lot for work.  Also, I always offer to pick friends, relatives, exchange students (Just those who are going to stay with me).  It always feels the same.  They are never the first ones to come out.  I start to wonder if mum was having issues at customs or quarantine.  More at quarantine, if she has brought some food item that is not allowed in Australia.  We always joke that bringing drugs into our country might be easier than bringing some fruit.  Fellow Aussies think about it a kilo of drugs vs a kilo of bananas?  I share this joke in a hushed voice to the guy sitting next to me to kill time.

Finally I see a familiar face and a familiar load of luggage. Mum doesn’t believe in travelling light.  I hug her tight with relief.  I didn’t even comment on her luggage.

 

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

 

 

Posted in Daily post

Mumma!!! I just killed a Cactus…

Posted on by uma197

cactus

If Freddie Mercury has seen my garden before he sang Bohemian Rhapsody his lyrics could have been about a dead cactus rather than him declaring to his mother about killing a man.

You know how they say certain family traits skips a generation.  Well it certainly did when it came to my gardening skills.  Well a few more things could be added to that, sewing, knitting and other artistic skills.  My mother is a queen of all trades and I am master of none.  My mum has the ability to grow things out of nothing while I manage to kill a fully grown plant.

I am scientist’s daughter and I believe that I am trying to prove Charles Darwin’s theory of “survival of the fittest” in my garden.  Time to time I experiment which ones can survive the longest without water etc.  Of course there are casualties in this experiment.  Yes as per my heading suggests, I did kill a cactus.

I have rearranged Freddie’s song and my version as follows.  Sorry for all “Queen” fans if you find this appalling.  I love him too.  But seriously he was a musical genius but completely out of his mind.  I believe my lyrics makes more sense.

 

Is this the real life
Is this just madness
Caught in a heatwave
No escape from sun
Can’t Open my eyes
I Look out the curtains and see
I’m just a poor gardener, Please I need sympathy
Because plants are easy come, easy go,
Little water, no water
Anyway the hot wind blows, doesn’t really matter to me – to me

Mama, I just killed a cactus,
I didn’t put a gun against it’s head,
I didn’t Pull the trigger, but it’s dead,
Mama, spring has just begun,
But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away
Mama, ooo,
Didn’t mean to make you ashamed
I will be back again this time tomorrow
To Carry on, carry on, as if gardening matters

Too late, time has come,
For the cactus with the spines
It’s hot all the time,
Goodbye all the dead plants – sorry you got to go –
you all left me behind and to face the truth
Mama, ooo –
I don’t want to kill my plants,
I sometimes wish I’d never had a garden at all –

I am just a poor girl no plant seems love me

(ok I am going to miss the next verse it’s the one with “Gallileo, Gallileo”, it’s too crazy to decipher even after a glass of gin)

So you think you can shame me and wither right in front of my eye
So you think you can love me and leave me to die
Oh Cactus – why did you do that to me
You got me to be the worst Gardner of the year

Nothing really matters
Anyone can see
Nothing really matters, nothing really matters – to me

………

Not true, The Garden matters to me, but not matter enough for me to wither in the scorching sun.  And sometimes I take the time to water them and apparently, I’ve stifled the plant with too much water.  Excuse me, I can’t seem to win.

I don’t ask for sympathy but maybe a bit of empathy.

 

 

 

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

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

http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/f/freddie_mercury/mamma_lyrics.html

 

Posted in Daily post

The Word Patina..what evokes?

Posted on by uma197

Working from home can sometimes be a bit challenging.  It demands discipline at a time procrastination wants to raise it’s ugly head.  My fingers seem to wander off opening all other tabs – Facebook, email and abc news.  I like to stop there as delving into them is usually a very short stop.  Sometimes I would open up WordPress as well. And the worst one is Korean Dramas.  I don’t like the last two tabs as I know it’s not going to be a short stop.  Today is one of those days.  Work seems to be  wandering faraway, but it’s okay the deadlines aren’t here yet too.  As my son and I sometimes joke  “if it’s not the due date then it’s not the do date”.

I normally write at night, after I have done my days dues.  It’s my guilty pleasure, my small treat.  Not today, I have decided to take a day off, maybe not the whole day but at least a few hours off to do some reading and writing.

Work is important as it pays the bills.  But leisure is important because it gives a worthwhile reason to work.  That’s my excuse for today anyway.

I peek at the word prompts on wordpress and ponder which word, which subject takes my fancy.

Patina –  Evokes the memories of my Old English master.  He wasn’t our school teacher but an external Tutor the nuns recruited for the boarders.  He was tall and huge.  I particularly remember the tiny glasses that sat on the edge of his nose.

My passion and advancement for the English language was molded by mainly Four individuals.  My dad – he introduced me to many classics, Rudyard Kipling’s “Just So Stories” was one of them.  Needless to say that’s what I read as bedtime stories to my kids.  My dad introduced me to another old relative, not sure how he was related to us, that was Mr Ganeshan.  He was amazing at picking an unusual word and describing it with gusto.  So he was my second mentor.  The third was this Old English Master.  He was an imposing figure and we were meek and humble in front of him.  Many hated his vocabulary lessons.  But the nerd in me welcomed his lessons.  Patina was his word.  Before I ponder away into memories and let you wonder who the forth mentor was.  Well it’s my hubby.  Until I met him I read many books, but mainly romance.  I didn’t mind detective stories and yes Sherlock Holmes was on the list.  Hubby introduced me to a whole different world.  Never in a million years would I have read books such as “Hunt for red October”  or the Borne series.  Not my cup of tea would have been my answer.  But he encouraged me and said just read the first chapter and give up if you still don’t like it.  Mentors come in all shapes and sizes.

PATINA – bellows out our master – a pause and the word repeated again.  Dictionaries aren’t allowed to be open until we’ve been told so.  I had no idea what it meant.  No one did, I was eagerly waiting for his explanation while some had already moved on to daydream.  He points us to the St Joseph’s Bronze Statue that dominates the room.  “The green stuff on the bottom, that’s Patina”.  Huh! what an anti climax.  That’s just mere oxidation.  He went onto explain how and when you would use that word in normal conversation.

I was young then, I didn’t think further than that about that word since then.  But seeing it on the list here, it did evoke old memories and new musings.

Memories of my dad – movies, songs, books, studies, humanity, my dad had a hand in all of that. Even him introducing Mr. Ganeshan was all part of his grand plan.  It appears that there is a film of Patina still lingering over the silhouette of my body, the untimely death of my dad, life lessons learnt after his passing, no amount of polishing seems to remove the stubborn patina.

I wonder if we are meant to cherish the Patina, rather than remove it, as if it’s a foreign body. Why not celebrate the multitude of colours as a symbol of  life, age, history, memories and lessons learnt.

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Posted in Daily post

Love, Lust – Fifty Strands of Gray

Posted on by uma197

lust

He throws her on the bed, rips open her blouse…  She says “Don’t stop… Please”

For those of you who started reading, because of the Heading and then you read the first line, You can’t wait to continue, nervously taking the second bite on the biscuit… Shame on you.  Go back and read the Heading, it’s Fifty Strands not Fifty shades you lustful lot.

The way I understand the two words, Love and Lust is as follows:

Although both words are intertwined there is still a difference.  Although both words appear as mirror images, well it is a mirror image – they look the same but one isn’t real. I am not saying Love is real and Lust isn’t.  Love is real for those who want love to be real.  Lust is real for those who are not in it for Love.  Love and Lust can co exist, but only if Love takes Precedence.

Most of us have our own ideas of what Love is and maybe even what Lust is.

My take on what Lust isn’t..

She says “I am not ready”, and he says “I will wait” and that isn’t Lust

She says “Sorry, I don’t want to anymore” and he stops and that isn’t Lust

She’s had kids, her body is showing clear evidence of it, and he says “Honey you look beautiful” and that isn’t Lust (unless he uses that as a line)

She is in the nursing home with more than Fifty Strands of Gray Hair, she doesn’t remember anyone, not even him, but he still visits her to have breakfast with her.  And that definitely isn’t Lust

He (1) is diagnosed with AIDS. He (2) stands by.

He (1) is getting frail.  He (2) is still there.

He (1) and He (2) have reached more than fifty strands of gray hair

He (1) takes his last gasp.  He (2) is still there, sobbing his heart out.

Was that love or Lust?  

 

He (1) is diagnosed with Cancer. He (2) stands by.

He (1) is getting frail.  He (2) is still there, cleaning up his vomit.

He (1) and He (2) have reached more than fifty strands of gray hair

He (1) takes his last gasp.  He (2) is still there, sobbing his heart out.

Was that love or Lust?  

 

For the love of God Australia, let the Gays Get Married

 

Daily Post word Prompt:   Lust

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

Posted in Daily post, True Story, Inspirational, Word prompt

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

Posted on 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/

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

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

Posted on 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/

 

 

Posted in True Story, Inspirational

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

Posted on 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/