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

image courtesy: png tree, google “Countdown to valentine day begins with Rose Day ” reads a headline! Seriously? Countdown?   What the hell! Seems as if some spaceship is going to be launched by ISRO or some missile to be fired by Indian army for which countdown is beginning!   Another headline reads,” Valentine week begins with Rose Day” And the headline for the next day is even more intriguing announcing the Agaaz of “ Propose Day ”! As if one day is not sufficient for celebrating the birth of Saint   valentine, people are celebrating the whole week, and the news papers and TV channels are also going gaga over Rose Day, Propose Day, Alana day, Falana day etc. etc. With all this hullabaloo doing rounds, my inquisitive, hard-core unromantic mind forced me to have a critical analysis about the origin of these days. Image courtesy: Google To my surprise, Wikipedia says “ Propose Day is an  unofficial holiday  celebrated on  February 8  in  India  . On this day

picture credit:  google images बचपन में   हम दशहरा हमेशा जबलपुर में मनाते थे. ये बात सुनकर लोग कहते थे,”हाँ, जबलपुर का दशहरा बहुत मशहूर है न!” पर उन लोगों को किस मुंह से बताते कि हमें क्या पता, जबलपुर का दशहरा कैसा होता है, हमें तो   ग्राउंड के पास फटकने भी नहीं मिलता था. हम तो जबलपुर इसलिए जाते थे क्योंकि दीवाली दादा-दादी के घर पर ही मनानी होती थी. हमारे दादाजी याने बब्बाजी का मानना था कि भीड़ भाड़ वाली जगहों पर बच्चों को नहीं जाना चाहिए. नवरात्रि के नौ दिन तो आस-पास के दुर्गा पूजा के पंडाल देखने में गुजर जाते थे, पर दशहरा के दिन जब सारा शहर और आस-पास के गाँवों   के लोग दशहरा ग्राउंड की तरफ   जा रहे होते, तो हम बच्चे बब्बा की खटारा कार में लदकर मन मसोसते हुए भेड़ाघाट की तरफ जा रहे होते, नीलकंठ ढूँढने! बब्बा कहते थे, दशहरा के दिन नीलकंठ के दर्शन जरूर करने चाहिए. कार शहर से बाहर निकलते ही सब की उत्सुक आँखें नीलकंठ को ढूँढने लगतीं और नीलकंठ दिखते ही सब एक सुर में जोर-जोर से बोलने लगते: नीलकंठ तुम नीले रहियो, दूध-भात का भोजन करियो, हमरी खबर भगवान से कहियो, कि .........” आखिरी लाइन

As children, we all make promise to our parents. But how many times, we remember the innocent promise we have made? My story "Bhoola hua Wada" is about a promise made by a son to his mother. Please listen to this story on YouTube in the link below:

Friends, I am excited to share with you that my stories in Hindi  are now available on "Saavn" app in Quisson ka kona in the magical voice of Neelesh Misra! please listen to them and give your feedback! SAAVN

Each morning I mount and dismount on the weighing machine repeatedly in a hope that it would change its stand and settle upon a little less (may be by 0.1or 0.2 Kg) than the previous day’s weight! But no! My weighing machine seems to be inspired by Salman Khan telling me” Ek baar jo weight maine bata diya to main khud ki bhi nahi sunti !” This reminds me of my poor old analogue weighing machine which I bought two months after my daughter was born.  After weighing myself on it for the first time, I declared it faulty. I was pretty sure that after the delivery I had lost a lot of weight and couldn’t be weighing 8 kg more than the pre pregnancy weight! But when my mother in law said,” it might be correct! You are looking fatter!” I was shocked. I tried my best to prove the machine wrong by weighing myself at other places, from fancy looking machines with a colourful wheel fitted on top installed outside posh shops, to the street vendor sitting with a weighing machine at lower bazar S

The last time I wrote about the surprise birthday party of my daughter, she said,” Mom, That’s not fair! We also give your surprise birthday parties and successfully manage to keep the surprise element. Why don’t you consider that?” “Sure!” I thought, "Except that I am fully aware of the surprise!" I started recalling the surprise birthday parties arranged by my family for me.  I recalled my birthday few years back, with my family  preparing for a surprise party for me which I was fully aware of. After all, how can a lady not be aware of any activity going on in the house? More so, it’s a simple guess when the “ Jani Dushman ” kids talk to each other in whispering tones and the irritated father is trying hard to abstain from scolding the children for stupid ideas! One or two days before, the kids demanded their long overdue pocket money and I readily agreed. Even my husband demanded two thousand rupees (we were not much used to plastic money then), to which I though

“ Oh my God! I am having severe headache!” I said to my husband, getting up from the bed. He was quick enough to jump to the conclusion,” It is because you were reading till very late last night! How many times I have told you to sleep early!“ Now, this was not what I was expecting from him. I was just sharing my pain, and even though he was generous enough to investigate and point out the reason, it was in no way going to relieve me from pain. I started thinking, why this happens? When we share our pain with someone, in return people start analyzing the cause of suffering, mostly concluding that it’s our own fault. My mother is a glaring example of this. Whenever I complain of some illness, in addition to getting worried, she is quick enough to find the reason and prove that I am the one who should be blamed for it. In my childhood days, I was very much prone to throat infection. Every time I had throat infection, Mummy would attribute it to the curd or ice cream, which I might