Khatte Mithe Pal Jeevan ke, nostalgia, experiences, family, humour

I cannot forget a scene from a short skit on TV, which I saw years before. An old lady is lying on deathbed and doctors have lost all the hopes. At that very time, her daughter-i-in-law whispers something into her ear. The lady instantly gets up, puts her shawl on her shoulder and moves out. When asked about the miraculous words, the daughter-in-law reveals that she had just informed her that there was a sale in the biggest store of the city. Such is the magical power of sale, that one can forget all the worries and run ahead on hearing about a sale. I remember that in my childhood days, “sales” were not so ubiquitous, as they are now. May be, because those were the days, when the middle size cities had not caught “brand fever”. I remember that in my city there was a unique craze of “Garden Saris sale”, which was organized in a hall rented by the company. My aunts waited for this sale for months together. When the sale was on, it was talk of the town. Ladies finished their house

Once upon a time the celebrations of my daughter’s birthday were so simple! Ordering a cake cooking few dishes, decorating home and entertaining the tiny guests! That was the time until this bug of surprise birth day party bit our family! Few years back I axed my own feet by deciding to surprise my daughter on her birthday. Yes, we had a blast at midnight. I brought the cake in the evening, and was able to hide it behind loads of utensils and vegetables in the already overloaded fridge. At 12:00 AM sharp, we entered her room playing the happy birth day song! She was surprised!   We brought her to the drawing room where the cake was waiting along with a pretty dress as a birthday gift! In short, the surprise birthday party was a great success and our daughter was very happy and thankful to us as evident from her face. But wait! The story does not end here; rather what followed this party is what I want to tell you! After this surprise party, my daughter (along with her fat

  I agree that times flies, and happier time flies faster. So much has changed during these seventeen years… . From a little bundle packed carefully in warm clothes, you have turned into a tall girl, smartly dressed with matching accessories. As a two year old, you chose a sandal for me in a shoe shop and kept on insisting that I buy it, now I prefer taking you along to help me shop. As a three year old you cried so much as you wanted to wear the newly bought night suit while going for an outing, now you never step out of the house in a clumsy dress. On my birthday or marriage anniversary, you presented me cards made with your unskilled, little hands, now you surprise me with your beautiful post on my Facebook wall. You used to serve me imaginary tea and snacks in your kitchen set, now I cherish the ginger tea you prepare for me. I used to bring books for you and tried hard to make you read them, now you suggest me the books I should read make sure that I finis

When my son was about three year old, this was a common scene in our home: I scold my son. He goes to the other side of the bed, saying,” मैं मम्मा से गुस्सा हूँ ! (I am annoyed with Mamma!) ” I try to mollify him, but to no avail. My husband also joins me, but no luck! Few minutes pass. My son:” मैं पापा से भी गुस्सा हूँ ! (I am annoyed with Papa too !)” My husband: “ मैंने क्या किया ?(What have I done?)” As time passes, I stop trying. My son, unable to continue his गुस्सा with his mother, comes to her and says,” लेकिन मैं मम्मा से तो खुश हूँ पर पापा से गुस्सा हूँ ! (I am happy with Mamma but annoyed with Papa!) ” Mother son duo reconcile and chat happily, while the father is puzzled, “ मैंने क्या किया है ?(What have I done?)”

Few days before Diwali, my daughter, while studying her Diwali essay stuck on a line,” Gujhiya, a sweet samosa is prepared on Diwali.” She asked me, “Mamma! What is this Gujhiya?” As I explained her about the delicious sweet dish made on Diwali, her record stuck at “Gujhiya, the sweet samaosa”. She kept on repeating that she wanted to eat the sweet samosa. I told her my mother made very tasty Gujhiya on Diwali and it is a very tedious process to make Gujhiya.  She suddenly asked me,” then why doesn’t my Mom make them? I want to eat Gujhiya, the sweet samosa.”  she kept on repeating these sentences, without realizing how difficult it was for me to control my watering mouth. I started imagining the taste of Gujhiya. Even the thought of Gujhiya took me back to the memory lanes of my childhood, where Gujhiya was an integral part of Diwali and Diwali was not just another festival. It was the biggest festival of the year, for which we used to wait for the whole year. Since my father was in

They say you never realize the worth of a person until you lose him. Same is the case with the sad demise of the legendary cartoonist Pran. The characters created by him were so much part of our daily lives in 1980’s, that we never bothered about who created them. I remember that I started reading his cartoons before I could make out that प्रा 0I written is actually Pran and I pronounced it as “Pra zero one”. In those days, newspaper hawker was the most awaited person in the first week of the month (on 15 th also, if the magazine was fortnightly) and the first item to be read in any children’s magazine was invariably the comic strip by Pran. Even in the women’s magazine “sarita”, there was a comic strip Shrimatiji, which was the most sought after column by the children. We learnt that “ Chacha Chaudhary ka dimaag computer se bhi tez chalta hai (Chacha Chaudhary’s mind acts faster than a computer)” before we actually saw a computer. Also, the little fights chacha Chaudhary

I had some vague idea about blogging but had never thought that I could enter this beautiful world! I always had an urge to write. As a child, I wrote some poems also, but don’t know why and how I quit writing. During the study of Engineering and subsequently landing upon a so called prestigious government job, the urge to be a writer was hidden somewhere. As writing noting on official files do not require any creativity, so the only sign that I was a creative person inside was the sense of humour displayed by me in witty conversation with my kids or the funny parodies I made to inspire them to eat their food or brush their teeth.  Also, during official functions, I was tired of giving welcome speech and vote of thanks, as I was considered the most suited for this work, but never took seriously the appreciation I got for it. After some years, when the children were old enough to provide me with spare time to write, I again ventured into writing from the spare time left from offic

There are some childhood memories which we can never forget. one such memory very close to my heart is the marriage ceremony of my doll, which became a grand family event. please go through my Hindi story based on one of my sweetest childhood memory ; my Hindi story published in online Hindi magazine  abhivyakti-hindi.org . Please go through the link below to read the story: Gudiya Ka Byah

The word nature itself brings a smile on my face, as it reminds me of my childhood days. As a child, I had never seen TV, leave apart computer and mobile phones, which were not even heard of. The only electronic gazette in the house was radio, which was always under the strict control of my elder sisters and even touching the knob of radio could be termed as a punishable offence, as it would force them to search again for the lost radio station.  It can be said that going to Mother Nature was a compulsion for the children in that era, but it never felt boring as each moment spent with nature brought its own surprises.  I become nostalgic remembering the moment spent under a tree in our own garden in the name of picnic. We used to collect peanuts, biscuits, toffee, water and head towards the tree for the picnic. The long summer afternoons appeared too short for such a picnic. Collecting berries, raw mangoes in the garden while w atching the numerous birds  was a great joy. Such picnic

The title of the contest left me immersed in my thoughts for some time, “Do we really need to go further to get closer?” At first I dismissed the idea of writing on the subject as I thought closeness is not dependent on the location. But as I lay on my bed in my nocturnal dialogue with myself amidst the background music of snoring of my husband, I started pondering over as to how the family vacations away from home affected the relationship of family members. Even if you think holidays can bring you closer, why you need to go further? After all, a holiday is a holiday. I understood soon as I recalled family holidays to our parental home or attending a family function like wedding. Visits to hometown means socializing with the relatives and friends who your children would find as extinct as dinosaurs. Your mother/mother- in- law (tick whichever is applicable) would chalk out your plan for visiting chachii, mausiji, mausaji ki bahan ke devrani etc.etc. Though you are not at all k

In my previous blog, I talked about my cooking disaster of baigan ki sabzi. The next incidence in the series happened when I was newly married, and used to stay with my in-laws at Shimla. The cooking was done by my mother-in-law with the help of servant. Being a responsible Gr A Govt Officer, I was exempted from cooking, asI was left with very little time, after office hours, which I spent in roaming around in Mall Road at Shimla, accompanying my husband. Before marriage, I had learnt enough cooking to cook a decent full course meal, but had never dared to cook anything in the presence of my mother-in-law for the fear of spoiling it. I soon got a chance to cook when both my in-laws were out of station, and on a Sunday, the servant proceeded on leave. Apart from cooking a conventional dinner, I decided to surprise my husband and two brothers-in-law with my excellent culinary skills. I decided to make “ Atte Ka Halwa” , as I had successfully cooked it once or twice before marriage u