When did I grow up ma....

When did I grow up ma....

You would give me bournvita at 6am while I was half asleep...

I got up today at 7am and made myself a tea while brushing my teeth and folding my bed...
When did I grow up ma...
I would make a face when you prepared some dish I did not like...
I fixed myself a half cooked lunch with extra salt and filled my stomach in peace...
When did I grow up ma...
You used to separate my dried clothes for laundry and iron the delicate ones..
I used to ransack the wardrobe for a top and crumple the ironing....
Fridays nights I laundry and Sundays I iron, I fold them neat and remove them patiently...
When did I grow up ma...
You had opened an account on my name and used to put money for savings while I hadn't the slightest clue...
I keep accounts every month in an excel sheet and count every pie i can save today...
When did I grow up ma...
When my Teacher scolded me or I had a fight with my best friend, I'd rush to hug you and you'd just hug me back and make my favorite dish that day...
My boss scolded me today for no fault of mine...I wept in the washroom and went on with the day...
When did I grow up ma...
I would throw tantrums to go to the music class while you tried to explain how important it would be...
I sing songs in the evenings to lift up my mood...
When did I grow up ma...
You and dad would explain me the routes to a place 15min from home over and over again yet I used to get lost and call you up...
I traveled across 7 seas alone...travel to unknown cities in trains and buses here...

When did I grow up ma...
I used to sit and play while dad made plans about a great vacation every year..
I am already planning and budgeting your visit here 1 year to go now...
When did I grow up ma...
The only utensils I used were plates and spoons to relish your food without a thanks..
Now I cook and wash and dry and arrange....cooker,pans,plates and spoons...When did I grow up ma...
When we got a house, all I did was look around the walls, the garden and stalls..
Today I think of getting one and dream about staying with you and pa..
When did I grow up ma...
I don't know if I am glad I grew up or miss those things so much....
But I'll always be your kid ma.

A new Beginning

Aniket, my elder brother was 16 and I was 10 when my parents suddenly left us alone and disappeared. I still remember the morning of 25h January 1985. I got up and saw Aniket sitting in one corner. When I looked around, there was no one else in the house. I searched each corner for my mom, wanted to hug her: that was how I started each day of my life, but didn’t find anyone. I ran to Aniket and asked him “Where are mom and papa? Where have they gone? Why didn’t mom wake me up? When will they return?”
To this he took me near him and told me “Ishu, they have gone, they are never going to return back. They have left us and gone somewhere out of our reach. Do you understand? They will never come back.”
I still remember the sadness as well as the anger in his eyes. He wanted to cry but he didn’t. At that point of time, I didn’t understand his behavior. I kept crying but Aniket never cried. Whenever I asked him about our parents, he replied but never referred to them as mom or papa. He behaved as if they were never his parents. My parents were never going to return.On the eve of the 25th itself, two people: Ms D’souza and Mr. John had come to our house and told us, they were sent by our relatives. They came to take us. I started screaming, I didn’t want to go anywhere leaving my home but Aniket kept convincing me that we would be fine. Ms D’souza packed our bags and we left. I held Aniket’s hand tightly because he was my only family and I was scared. When we stepped out of the car, the first thing I noticed was the big board which said “Home for the Homeless”. But I had a home, why was I being taken there? Ms D’souza wanted me to stay with a few other girls in their room but I didn’t leave Aniket. I stayed with him. 
Everyone was very nice there. We continued going to the school. I made many new friends. Aniket started smiling again. I was happy for him. His world revolved around me. He took immense care of me. Aniket got a job once he completed his studies. I was still in college. We shifted to a new apartment given by his company. We were very sad while leaving the orphanage. We promised Ms. D’souza, we would keep visiting her. When I was brought to the orphanage, I was crying because I didn’t want to enter that place. When I was leaving the same place, I was sad again. This is what is called irony of life.We shifted to the new house. It was a beautiful house with a small garden outside. I completely loved it. Life had changed and it was beautiful. Aniket had fallen in love with a girl in his office and was planning to marry her. I was very happy for him. Preparations had begun. We went for shopping together, arranged for the reception party. There was so much to do. Once late night, Aniket and I were writing down the names of our friends who were to be invited for the reception.
I was missing mom and papa since a few days. I had always shared everything with Aniket. But it was quite a few years since we had spoken about our parents. He came near me and asked “Missing family?” 
I never understood how he knew me so well. He always understood things which I never mentioned. 
“Yes, I am missing mom and dad. If they were here today, they would have been so happy.”
“May be”, he replied
I was very angry at what he said. “What do you mean may be? Why do you always behave as if they don’t mean anything to you? They were our parents, Aniket. Just because they died it doesn’t mean….” And I stopped half way. Suddenly I realized that I didn’t know anything about my parents’ death.
I didn’t know anything. I was filled with emotions. I was angry on myself. How could I be such a bad daughter who never bothered to find out how her parents died? Tears rolled down my eyes.“Ishu, you know why I never talk about them because I HATE them completely. I hate to call them my parents. I hate it. It was their decision to leave us alone in this world and go. You know Ishu, Mom and dad committed suicide. They were not capable of taking care of us. They were going through some problems and they decided to end their life. It was them who had sent Ms D’souza and Mr. John to take us to the orphanage. Everything was decided, Ishu, everything. They had decided to leave us alone in this cruel world. They could have killed us and taken us with them but they didn’t do that. They left us alone.”
I didn’t know how to react. I wished Aniket had never told me all this. I was happy when I was ignorant. But now he had already told me and I didn’t know what to say. I kept crying. Aniket hugged me and I don’t even remember how I went off to sleep. We never spoke about this again.After 2 years of his marriage, Aniket’s wife delivered a cute little baby boy. The first time Aniket took the baby in his hands, he started crying like a baby himself. He was overwhelmed with happiness. 
“Aniket, thank mom and papa that they didn’t take us with them. If they would have done that, we would have never got this cute little child in our life. I have never had complains with my life because you never allowed me to suffer for even a moment. You were always there. And I think mom and papa knew that you will be the most responsible person. They knew that you are strong enough to take care of yourself as well as me. Aniket, forgive them please.”
The baby smiled for the first time and his smile was a sign to start a new life and forget everything about the past. Aniket had finally forgiven my parents.“Mom, papa….I am missing you”, Aniket said.

Rejections!!!!!

At a general friendly conversation, my friend said “Rejections are a part of life.” The statement really meant a lot.

How do we handle rejections? No human would want to be rejected by anyone in the world. But it happens and it happens very often.

People may not like the way you think, speak, look, behave or even dress. But does that mean, we are wrong or does it mean the other person is. It’s an argumentative topic. Each one can have their own opinion and they also have the right to talk about it openly.

Most of us, if given a serious thought, are not able to handle rejections even after being a grown up adult. And that’s something all of us need to learn.

It is okay if there a few people who don’t like you or who would not want to be with you. The world does not end there. You got to just be yourself, do what you want and say what you think fearlessly.

Talking fearlessly, at the same time, does not mean hurting someone. You got to be assertive and need to explain things in fewer words.

It is okay to be rejected. Try to take it in a positive way and if you can’t do that, just ignore it… :)

ONCE UPON A TIME THERE WAS A HUMANITY

Please Help !

I recognized Anjali as one of the most gorgeous looking girl in my college. She had a fair & glowing skin, long hair, amazing eyes and a good dressing sense. She wasn’t my friend and at the same time we didn’t dislike each other. She was always surrounded by people and from what I could make she liked the attention. There were guys who kept commenting on her looks and kept dreaming of dating her. The girls on the other hand were nice to her but disliked her at the same time for obvious reasons. She was the topic I thought people never got tired of discussing. 


We started our MBA in the year 2004 and it had been the most awaited time of my life. I came to Mumbai for the first time and was looking forward to my stay here. 

Sameer became my friend as soon as I met him. He was an amazing company to me. I could connect to him easily because we always had some healthy discussions and our different opinions made the topics more interesting. Surprisingly, Sameer never showed any interest in talking about Anjali unlike other guys. 

4th July 2004: I distinctly remember, we had our Finance Lecture. Coming from a Science background, I never understood anything in this class. Sameer was my only support in terms of debit and credit calculations and he was planning to come late. The lecture started and my eyes were glued to my professor hoping to learn something. Anjali walked in late and she had no option but to sit beside me. The lecture continued. Her cell kept vibrating every 2 minutes and she kept fiddling with her cell phone under her desk. I left hope and started scribbling in my book because I knew I will never be able to absorb anything today. 

She suddenly turned towards me and asked if she could use my cell phone as her cell was out of battery. She wanted to send just one international message. I was a little shocked with this request of hers; we barely knew each other. She almost pleaded. Courteous I was, I handed my phone to her.

Who the hell, is she going to message from my number? I thought. 

Once the lecture was done, she said a thank you and ran off the class. And behind her some 20 odd people, basically to spend some time with her. She had so many fans, she could have asked for anyone’s phone. Why me? I was completely angry. The first thing I did was to check my message box and call logs. There was nothing.

I called Sameer immediately. I went to him and blurted the entire incident in one breath. He looked much tensed and was about to say something. But in the meantime, my cell rang. “Unknown number calling”. When I answered, the man on the other side started screaming and swearing on me. I was shocked. I had never heard someone talking so dirty to me. Looking at my tearful eyes, Sameer snatched the phone from me. It seemed he had anticipated this. He went a little away from me and spoke something on the call. I was in a state of shock. 

He came to me and asked me to follow him. He went to Anjali and screamed “Why do you do this. When you know what is going to happen, why do you? Why did you have to use her (pointing me) phone when you know what the consequences would be. Suddenly Anjali's face turned pale. She looked at me and apologized that I had to go through what just happened. I, by now, had gained my senses and asked Sameer what was going on.

“I need your help”, said Anjali to us.

Sameer was still angry but concerned too. The 3 of us headed to a coffee shop. 

“He is my father” and there was silence. Sameer had assumed she had a very possessive boyfriend who was behind this entire drama. But FATHER! We had 100 questions running in our minds.

She continued, “I was a victim of child abuse when I was 14 in the year 1997. It was my father who tried to rape me in his unconscious mind under the affect of alcohol. My mother and my elder brother Aneesh came at the right time and I was saved. My father was sentenced imprisonment for 7 years. My family did their best to erase those memories from my mind. The memories were replaced with some good ones but they never got erased. We lost mom in 2001. She suffered her first heart attack and it snatched her away from us. Aneesh had to leave for a 1 year project to Canada in 2003. He will be returning next week. I keep talking to Aneesh all the time over the phone. My father has been tracking this, I don’t know how. The same thing happened when I used your phone the other day Sameer. I am really sorry for what happened. I just need to be safe for a week until Aneesh arrives. He is trying his best to wrap up things soon and return. PLEASE HELP" and she burst out crying. She was too scared and so was I.

Sameer decided we would stay in his apartment until Aneesh arrives. He made all the arrangements. Sameer was basically from Kerala but his dad had an apartment here in a reputed and a very secured colony and that was the best option for now.

12th August 2004 : We were at the airport to drop Anjali and Aneesh. They were leaving Mumbai forever. Aneesh filed a complaint against his father for torturing them. He was put in a rehab centre because the court and the doctors decided he needed help more than punishment. Anjali was beautiful as ever. Her smile had returned after her elder brother arrived. She now felt completely protected and confident. She completely believed in him. 

There were 2 men here Aneesh and Sameer, whom I could not stop admiring and there was one man there in the rehab who had lost his mind because of his own demon like deeds.

P.S. : There have been many incidents reported on child abuse. Abuse could be physical, sexual, Emotional/Psychological and Neglect.

According to CRY (Child Rights and You) 

• 8,945 children go missing in India every year
• 500,000 children are estimated to be forced into the sex trade every year
• Approximately 2 million child commercial sex workers are between the ages of 5 and  15 years
• Approximately 3.3 million child commercial sex workers are between 15 and 18 years
• Children form 40% of the total population of commercial sex workers
• 80% of these children are found in the five metros – Delhi, Mumbai, Kolkata, Chennai and Bangalore
• 71% of them are illiterate

Diagnose your busy life.....

Peaceful Sleep

Run! Run Fast! Hurry up. You need to take bigger steps; you can’t be so slow - I heard my father screaming at me. We were saving our lives from some random people who I did not recognize. The only reason I was running from them was because my father was.

There was no way I could find out the reason. The darkness scared me further. I had grabbed my father’s hand but could not meet the pace of my father. Suddenly the people behind came nearer and my father sped up. I lost him, I lost him somewhere. I was all alone in the dark. I was going to be kidnapped, I was going to die! I knew it. My father left me alone; he did not turn to see me. He saved his life and ran away. I was sitting there unable to decide anything.

And I woke up from my dream sweating with a severe headache, from a dream that had been following me since I was 15.

My dad was dead; to be more specific he committed suicide when I was 15 leaving behind loans debts and a business that had failed miserably. My relatives walked away without giving a helping hand to me and my mom. They did not want to get into such a big mess. Our home was snatched away from us by the bank against the loan.

I had always been a silent kid, moreover a scared kid. I did have clear opinions about my rights and wrongs but never had the guts to speak up against the wrong. I was always indecisive.

When people abused my mother to be the unlucky woman in my father’s life, I kept quiet.

When I was molested by my uncle post my fathers death, I kept quiet. 

When my grandmother slapped my mother because she refused to shave off her hair which usually Hindu widows are supposed to do, I kept quiet.

I was angry on everyone around me, I was insulted, my mother was insulted but I kept quiet. I don’t know why I never could open my mouth. I screamed in my dreams but no one heard me.

Mom and me left Delhi and moved to a comparatively smaller city called Pune in Maharashtra. Everything was so different here; there was no one we knew. But mom wanted to come very far from Delhi. She wanted to settle in a place where the memories of my father and his failure won’t haunt us, where I, her young daughter won’t be hurt. But little did she know, I was not hurt, I was completely broken within. I had a feeling of hollowness.

I told my mother I did not want to study. She left the decision on me and I was standing there not knowing what am I going to do with my life.

My mom treated me as an equal. She wanted me to speak up, be decisive and be independent.

I chose Bharatanatyam, a beautiful form of dance, very close to my heart. I did not have to shout, I could express with my eyes. On my first performance, I saw people noticing my moods and applauding for the same.

The bad dreams I had started fading as years passed by. They never left me alone but they were sure less in number now. I was doing well in my career and my mom in her small business. We both were happy.

My relatives walked in home one day and they expressed the family’s unhappiness with my dancing career. Before my mother could defend me, I told them this was our decision and we would not like anyone’s advice on the same and politely asked them to leave our home.

The dreams never came back again and I slept peacefully after that. I was not alone, I had myself, my words and my dance with me!