Aman ki Asha -II

Its 2.30pm. I had to leave for Sharjah at 3.30pm, I was in my hotel room when somebody comes to call me saying the car in waiting and I am late.
There’s still time how can I be late??? Without wasting a moment I jump out of the chair pick up my goggles, fastened my waist pouch and leave the room.

A white SUV, land Cruiser is waiting and the driver had a frown on his spectacled face because I was late. I say sorry and settle myself in the front seat next to the driver. I usually prefer to sit next to the driver since I get the best view of the surroundings. The driver was fast, very fast but here it is safe because one is assured that no cow or dog or man will cross the road out of the blue. 90-100 kms an hour is normal. Also the roads are made that way and the traffic is disciplined and I was enjoying the speedy drive!

One could feel the blazing heat outside. Nobody could dare to drive without an AC. One side is the desert and the other side a busy highway
The waft of the AC in our car was too cold and a slight shiver ran through me. The driver sensed it and adjusted the temperature. This gesture made me feel comfortable. Yesterday’s experience with the Pakistani was fresh in my mind and I was a bit skeptical.

This time the driver started the conversation.
D : Kaha ke ho madam?? (Where are you from???)
Me : India.
D : India mein kaha?? (Where in India??)
Me : Pune. Mumbai ke paas (Close to Bombay.)
D : Pune janta hoon. (ya know Pune)
Pause.
His Hindi was rich. Different. The one you hear when Gulzar speaks sprinkled with Urdu words.
Me : Aap kaha ke ho??? (Where are you from??)
D : Kashmir.
Me : Kashmir!!!!
D : (coolly)…yes Kashmir.
Me : You from my country.
He only nodded.

I composed my self and was feeling simply relaxed by now.
Crossed a small eatery, which advertised camel biryani, camel burger, camel kebabs etc. Is it true?? Camel – can somebody eat it???
Out of curiosity I asked the driver
Me : Kohi camel khate hai?? (Does anybody ever eat a camel??)
D : ya. They eat here.
Me : aap bhi?? (Even you??)
D : nahi mein nahi khata. (no I don’t eat)
Me : What do you eat here??
D : regular Indian food.

Wondered what could a man coming from Kashmir - the most beautiful part of the world- eat in this desert??

I was transported years back when I taught a Kashmiri student, he was two an a half years old then, his favorite dish was Gucchi Mattar which he got once a while in his tiffin. I used to laugh at the very name. Later came to know that it’s a dish made from Lotus stem or root and also very expensive

Me : Aap Gucchi Mattar miss nahi karte?? (Don’t you miss gucchi Mattar)?
Driver surprised….
D : You know gucchi Mattar ???When I go to Kashmir I have.

I was nearing my destination and asked him his name.
Me : aap ka naam?? (What’s your name??)
D : Parvez.
Me : Oh!! Nice name!!

I had reached the destination and left this car. I had to be here for 4-5 hours.
The hours flew by. It was 8.30pm. The crowds were rushing back to which ever transport they could get.

The desert looked beautiful and the cold winds played its role. Its not easy to walk in the desert. Our feet go deep in the sand and it becomes difficult to wade through it. The moon looked so beautiful. The expanse of the desert and the stretch of the sky raced for miles and miles together. Wondered do they really meet at the horizon????

It was late and puzzled as how I would reach my hotel in Dubai from these deserts in Sharjah.
When suddenly I heard someone calling, “Madam, Madam our car is parked here we go together, it’s my responsibility till I drop you back to your hotel”

Parvez!!!

God sent I thought and got in the SUV once again.

The conversation strikes again from where we had left.

Me : Which place in Kashmir are you from??
Parvez : Doda
Oh I tell myself…Doda very much a part of our troubled valley!!!!

Me : What do you like here??
Parvez : It gives me bread and butter.
Me : How many years you are here??
Parvez : 12 years
Me : Long time. Do you go home to Kashmir??
Parvez : yes!! 2 months in a year.
Me : How beautiful is Kashmir??? (though a stupid question)
Parvez : Lots. Very beautiful. Still a Paradise on earth if all the violence is cut out.
Me : Who all stay here??
Parvez : Everybody!! Wife, kids, parents, brothers, sisters all.
Me : All here?? Who stays in Kashmir then??
Parvez : Nobody. We got house a big house, somebody takes care. Like a caretaker you see.
Me : hmm…..

(We now leave the desert and touch the city. The roads are glitzy the place spews riches, loads and loads of it. It doesn’t lack anything for the ones who can afford it. The moon following us. The moon has its own elegance. The road is adorned with a necklace of streetlights but cannot shadow the moon. All cars speeding. I want a picture but slowing the car could be an impossible task, I reach for my camera…Parvez slows down the car before I saying anything and I get the picture I want but am not happy with it . Anyway!!!

The rhythm in our conversation is not disturbed…

Parvez : I got everybody here a few years back. Life was getting bad there. Never knew from where a bomb could blast. I came here and one by one shifted everybody to Dubai.
Me : Are the neighbors there (Pakistanis) really bad.
Parvez : Wont say all, but the ripped valley is the proof, ya they are.
Me : hmm……
Parvez : but my neighbor here is a Pakistani. His family helps my family when we need help. We both know from what circumstances we have come here. He has his story to tell and I have mine. But at the end of the day it’s a bare minimum decent living that we look forward to. At least we come home without a bloodstain here. This country gives me that. Our women are safe here, our children go to school here, and at least they don’t have images, which we still carry when we went to school in Kashmir.

Me : Do you like India??
Parvez : I am an Indian and I am extremely proud of it.
Me : And you kids??
Parvez : We have trained them to like India though we stay here. They are taught we are Indians first and are here only for work.
Me : will you come back to India??
Parvez : NO
Me : Why???
Parvez : I’ll be shortly going for the same job to London. Our family will migrate from here. Don’t misunderstand madam.
We love our country a lot, but the current circumstances don’t allow us to. We have lot of memories and the soil beckons us. The aroma of the soil lingers withs us all the time.
When we travel to Kashmir we fly Indian Airlines only – reason??? The moment the airhostess gets water we drink as if our throats were parched and yes - they are - we have missed the water of our motherland. It tastes different; it has the sweetest taste, which we long for. This country gives us everything but……..
Me : but……
Parvez : Surely something is missing. Madam you touched the chord, which pains the most.

Parvez’s wounds were still not healed and how would they???

I could see the hotel from a distance now….

Still many things were to be said, to be heard…………..
There was silence for a while but I could hear all his unsaid words..

Time to part…my heart was heavy.
We shook hands and bid good-bye, never to see this handsome man with emotional scars again.

His parting left something with me….

In my room.

My mind clutters with thoughts

Blast in Pune before I left…?

Shahrukh Khans statement about how good our neighbors are and their presence in IPL….?

2 Sikhs beheaded in Peshawar for refusing to convert to Islam…?

Yesterday’s encounter with a Pakistani driver – his struggle for a living…?

Today Parvez – and his story – a story for survival…?

All this just happening within our country and just across our border

Who is the safest???
?
?
?

Angle changed and the kaleidoscope gave a different picture....

Today's newspapers flashed - Government spends 5 crores on Kasab’s security.


Aman ki Asha – Can somebody please explain????

Aman ki Asha - I

Gulf

Couple of years back Bahrain
And now UAE. UAE consists of 7 states namely Abu Dhabi, Sharjah, Ajman, Umm al-Quwain, Rasal-Khaimah and Fujairah.

None of the above places was ever listed in my travel plan. Never had the slightest inclination to visit these places.

Glitz and glamour of this place starts the moment you land at the Dubai airport. Massive indoors waterfalls, long elevators, long conveyor belts; branded shops everything around was eye candy.

UAE consists only 19% of the original natives and the balance 81% consists of Indians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, Sri Lankan, Pilipino etc. all of them here for their share of bread and butter.

Apart from this economics got an experience to share. One evening was returning from Gold Souk – Deira to my hotel at Damascus Street, which is a good 20-25 minutes drive. I was waiting for a taxi on the pathway; you see all Asian faces and more of Keralites.

The place looks very familiar like any other city in India, especially Mumbai; but you not feel comfortable especially when alone. One is reminded constantly that it’s a place away from home.

I was trying to stop any taxi coming my way. A skinny looking person on the pathway would speak something to the taxi driver in Arabic and the taxi would go before I could board it. This was repeated 3-4 times. Fifth taxi halted and before he could say anything I gave a hard look and boarded the taxi.
As soon as I boarded this taxi I started getting some wrong vibes and feeling very restless. Though the taxi was a Toyota Camry and a spacious one I gathered myself in one corner timidly.
The interiors, the dashboard all looked so alien. The Arabic music gave go pleasure to my ears. The taxi driver was a middle-aged guy with a paunch and his body language read shabby. He started speaking Hindi in heavy Arabic accent.
First talking only to him in a loud voice then trying to belittle Indians by murmuring beneath his breath.

The discomfort was sensed instantaneously.

I let a few moments pass, and then started a conversation with him.

Me : Kaha ke ho??? (Where are you from??)

TD : Peshawar.

(God he is a Pakistani…what next)

Me : Oh Peshawar!!!!

TD : Ha ha Peshawar (yes yes Peshawar)

Me : Bahut acchi jagah hai Peshawar. (Peshawar is a nice place)

TD : Aap jante ho?? (U know the place??)

Me : Ha ha janti hoon ( yes yes, I know)

With this he started all the praises for his hometown, and I prayed that I reach the hotel safely, still feeling terribly uncomfortable

Me: Peshawari Khana bahut accha banta hai ( Peshawari delicacies are so great)

TD : Ha ha..bahut accha (ya ya very tasty)

Me : Aur Peshawari masalo ka swad tho lajawab ( and the spices of Peshawar at so unique)

TD : Aap jante ho??? (You know??) (A bit soft now)

Me : Ha ha jante hai (ya ya I know it)

Pause (??)

Me : Aap Peshawar mein Pashto bath karte ho na?? (You speak Pashto in Peshawar na??)

TD : (a bit surprised) ha Pashto bath karte hai, aap kaise jante ho???(Ya we speak Pashto, how do you know??)

Pause (??)

Me : Waha ek nadi bhi bhethi hai (a river also flows in Peshawar)
(This was a googly from my side)

TD : (now a more surprised) ha bheti hai, aap Peshawar aayee ho kai??? (ya a river flows there – have you been to Peshawar??)

Me : Ha ek baar mauka mila tha (ya once I had an opportunity)

The taxi driver by now was very very warm in his speech and was talking with a lot of respect. He was going non-stop about his homeland. I had to cut the distance I had no choice but to hear him. He still had the sharpness in his voice but this time a little milder.

TD : aap kise janti thi waha (whom did you know there??)

Without wasting a second I replied

Me : Benazir Bhutto!!!!

TD : kya??? (what??)

Me : (laughing) baas unhiko janti thi ab tho woh nahi rahi (Just knew her, now she is no more).

Then the taxi driver started showering loads of praises about her and the politics in Pakistan.
Started saying how he makes a living here and can give a decent life to his family, which he cant do in his country.

By now he had kept aside his Pakistani tag and was talking as one human being to another, which was more appreciated.
But I still sensed those wrong vibes

TD : Aaap Hindustani ho ke haamari muluq ki bare mein kitna jaanti ho, waha aaki bhi gayee ho…Aapko dekhne ka hamara nazariya badal gaya. (You are an Hindustani, you know so much about my land, You have visited my land, my view about you is changing)

His views were changing.
And mine were not. What was in his mind when I boarded his taxi I wondered? The city was in full glitter, high-end car moved around with ease, could see some villas outside, but still felt so insecure.

By now I could see my hotel and I was feeling slightly better.

As the taxi parked in the lobby and it was time to leave the taxi, the driver joined both his hands and asked for forgiveness saying, “ To be truthful I had ill feelings about you when you boarded the taxi I had not liked it, and above all you an Indian, please forgive me, but after talking to you my views have changed. We never are interested about India, but how much you know about our country, which even I don’t know, I feel ashamed. Mujhe maaf kar do. (Please forgive me)

Me : Don’t treat the next Indian who comes in your taxi like the way you did now. Pakistan has been a part of India, so when I knew you were from Pakistan, you were very much a part of our land, and I could be the safest in your taxi, as I know I am traveling with my brother. (Though filmy it was strong)

The taxi driver felt the blow and apologized frantically. I left the place gracefully thanking God, only to tell myself how scared I was.
After I retired to my room I reminisced the entire episode…

Neither had I been to Peshawar nor did I know Benazir Bhutto and nor was I familiar with their spices they used in their cooking.

All my virtual traveling and my reading helped me that day. The food I had in Sigree (which is a specialty restaurant in Pune, caters Pakistani delicacies and mention spices with every dish they offer) helped me to talk about spices, Shantaram - the book I read - described about the author’s journey via Peshawar to Afghanistan which helped me to narrate the topography of the place though I did not know which river flows there, and of course who else than Benazir Bhutto could be a strong female I could talk to portrait my strength and that I can face this situation?????

Always saw Pakistan from India….but this time the lens was wider and the picture somewhat un (?)clear

The next day met a Kashmiri…………. But this time the kaleidoscope gave me a different scene

Aman ki Asha…does it exists????????

(To be continued)

Miles away

I write now because i will be incommunicado for a while as i cover regions and countries and lakes and rivers and mountains and boundaries and languages and cultures and seas and temperaments and customs and class and history .

Within a span of hours thousands of years of life disappears underneath.

Not the speed of the passage. The passage of time and events.

Wish this happens more and more often, for more and more miles, as i leap more and more continents.

I will shortly race the clouds and flirt with the wind only to tell them that meet you soon on my return..................but just be there.........

Memories Unperished

Sometimes a thought or an old lost song sparks memories and takes us down the nostalgic lane.

What was it running bare feet in the scorching sun??? Or a thorn pricking in the feet??? Neither the prick was painful nor the scorching heat called sunstroke. Swimming for hours without caring for about the sun tan or red eyes after we came out of the water or diving deep down to remove a 10paise coin and teaching the siblings to swim like us.

A sneak in the neighbor’s garden to swipe mangoes and guavas. Get it home and tell mom that we got it for her so that she can make pickle and get a spanking of a lifetime because we stealed…. but it hardly hurt. The taste of the wild berries we could just gulp before washing them and thanked Mother Nature for giving this in abundance.

The great sense of achievement when we learnt to cycle by ourselves after falling and tripping so many times and then cycle all over the neighborhood from morning to late evening trying all sort of acrobats leaving your feet off the pedal and zoom down the steep slope was so brave a feeling. The adrenaline rushes when we took high swings and everything around looked small and cousins looking at us in awe.

Rainwater gutters, which overflowed during the rain and carried leaves, flowers, twigs and guppy fishes. To catch these guppy fishes was such a task and when accomplished, the guppies were prized assets.
Climbing the tallest trees and sitting on one of its branches with a small piece of chikki in sticky and soiled hands, tasted yum!! Chatting with the birds and then jumping from the branch and running behind the butterflies and keeping the glow worms in the match box were all tales of innocence…all this without a bandage on self was an incomplete picture.

Height of luxury??? Well two pillows in between the arms of chair and snug in your favorite godhadi (Cover), which could be made up of grandmother’s old cotton saris, which had all the warmth of the universe. Felt like an emperor on the throne. Wow!!! Simple pleasures of life.

The list would go on and nostalgia mixed with emotion would roll incessantly. Alas!!!! These are but thoughts now…………
And what transpired all this was one of my favorite ghazal


Yeh daulat bhi lelo, Yeh shoharat bhi lelo
Bhale cheen lo mujhse meri jawaani
Magar mujhko lautaado bachpan ka saawan
Wo kaagaz ki kashti, Woh baarish ka pani

Muhalle ki sabse nishaani purani
Wo budhiyaa jise bachche kahete the nani
Wo nani ki baaton mein pariyon kaa deraa
Wo chahere ki jhuriyon mein sadiyon ka pheraa
Bhulaae nahin bhool saktaa hai koi
Wo choti si raatein Wo lambi kahaani

Kadi dhoop mein apne ghar se nikalna
Wo chidiyaa Wo bulbul Wo titalii pakadana
Wo gudiyaa ki shaadi mein ladna jhagadanaa
Wo jhoolon se girana Wo gir ke sambhalanaa
Wo piital ke chhallon ke pyaare se tohafe
Wo tooti hui chudiyon ki nishaani

Kabhi ret ke unche tiilon pe jaanaa
Gharaunde banaana banaake mitaanaa
Wo masoom chahat ki tasveer apni
Wo kwaabon khayalon ki jaagir apni
Na duniyaa kaa gham tha na rishton ke bandhan
Badi khoobsurat thi Wo Zindagaanii

Once a child was asked, ‘ Child how would you like to travel? A bike, a car, a ship or an aero plane??” The child without a blink said at my mothers hip…

How much ever we grow we always long to be small……….

You all are welcome

I dream ....
I dream of having a green house of my own since many many years! So one night i dream about my green house with hybrid roses, gerberas, exotic vegetables, baby corns, cherry tomatoes etc. I nuture them from morning and toil in my green house throughout the day.....and when ripe pick them carefully, wrap them and sell them and exchange all this with crisp notes...Wow!!! Hardwork but it pays. Apart from the physical labour one has to ensure that birds and other insects are kept out of the greenhouse, the humidity set right and water given in the right proportion. When you get such good returns you have to take care of all this and be a bit selfish...its a part of the game. So what, the world does it...and so do I !!!!.

I roll over to the other side as i sleep and continue my dream....a sparrow accidentally enters the shed and is pecking at some flower....the watchman rather my helper immediately runs to shoo it off....as the shed is closed from all sides the sparrow cant fly out...its scared now, but somehow gets a chance to fly out....How irritating this little beast is..i say....(is it me saying this???). I feel relived that the plant is safe now....

Some butterflies find their way in this green house once they are done hopping from one flower to the other they want to fly away but the shed net does not allow them to, they fly back and forth but hit the net and as they cant come out they die eventually....they deserve it..i say (is it me saying this again??) who asked them to come.....???

A flock of sheep graze around in summer near the green house....its barren outside and lush green inside....they can just peep inside and envy....now they come to have the cream , its my hardwork i say all can't do this..(is it me again?????) a slight tinge of pride in my tone and with a trace of selfishness i imagine myself to a businessman in a true sense because my income means a lot, its hard work and so much sweat!!!!

I roll over again and think is this me???? Talking about big gains and big returns??? Ya one needs it, but at what cost??? And does one really need so much????Somebody comes to my doorstep and I shoo it off??? The sparrow trapped inside, actually it had full right to nibble on what ever it wanted..how much could that little one nibble??? Could it hamper my returns???? It had a small beak how much could it take??? The butterfly could suck a drop of honey and could have flown away happily, why had it to die suffocating???? The sheep could just nod their heads seeing the greens and then be happy with the browns outside????

WHY??? WHY is it like this??? Why is this world so selfish. How much do personal gains and false egos matter??? Remembered the story of Alexander....His last words before his death, "Bury my body, do not build any monument keep my hands outside so that the world knows the person who conquered the world had nothing in his hands when dying"
Its morning, I wake up....sit by the window side and think....Is it worth all this????

The green house, the butterflies, the sparrow, the sheep are all illustrations.....this all is our life...we all have so many relations some blood related some more than that. We knowingly/unknowingly take all this for granted. As we near the pinnacle of our achievement we have left scars on the near and dear ones.....how blinded we become when selfishness, ego and big returns are our priority.

I decide...i buy a small piece of land and plant the most beautiful tress for the sparrows, flowers for the butterflies and fruits for the sheep in abundance and invite all these and more at my place...this pleasure will pay me more than the swelling of my bank balance. I might be wrong as a businessman but still feel this is right because i want to remain a mere human first. Its my dream and i shall follow it!

Why its called sway wild lily

I go regular for a walk and as i walk i see many things around me, some simply touch me, some just don't, even if i try they don't.

Just one morning as i stroll pass a college i hear so load of giggles and laughter! My college days flash through my mind.....nice days i tell my self. I see a bunch of girls in their best attire and they are so beautiful, one better than the other. I decide to sit for sometime on the bench and watch them. These girls have well toned skin, short but neat hair...something done to their eyes so the eyes speak volumes and a slight makeup gives them a classy look. Nice!!! I say. They are so aware of their looks, I was not at that age. Do they ask their parents while doing changes in their hairdo like the way we used to ask?? whatsoever they are so pretty. They get everything....good food, good education...best of colleges, best of teachers and then they are on the way to being successful.
Compared this with the Dutch roses we see at the florist's place. These roses grown in green houses with the right temperature, the right quantity of water, the right nutrition marketed to the right people and they are valued high and these further adorn the best of rooms in the world. All so made up!!!!

I walk a little further. Its a big green pasture where i see a nomadic family tented for a night halt i suppose. I sit a little far from them and watch them. They hardly notice me. they continue with their chores. The man milking a goat while the baby goat is trying to stand between his mother legs and reach the mothers udder, the man while milking squeezes a few milk jets at the baby goat who looks so happy. The man bathes the kid literally with milk. Very cute...

Half a dozen hens around...two dogs lazed around the tent probably resting now after their night vigil.. and a timid looking cat somewhere taking her sun bath.

I look around to see the mans wife. I spot a young woman of perfect stature...her fit body ..a confident walk and she looked stronger from inside. She was draped in a nineyard saree ..the saree is soiled and very shabbily draped. Her hairdo undone, its lustrous, thick and healthy, her locks all over her face. Her big bindi flashes thru her locks and her big nose ring looks amazing. She's wearing many small tinklets in her ears which i cant notice from far...Her pallu a bit misplaced and she is not bothered as she is engrossed in making bhakri's for the household. The silver waist belt glitters on her torso as the sun rises............She suddenly looks towards the rising sun and as if a million lights flashed on her.........wow, How radiant and how glowing......beautiful naturally she looked. This beauty i had never seen.....
Compared this to the wild lily which a bit crushed swayed at my feet. So untamed, uncultivated, unblemished, so beautiful it looked. It was not artifical nor was it made up. Holding its head high, daring the sun and swaying in the wind. It took the sun, the wind the ones which crushed it as a challenge yet stood up so gracefully undeterred. It was just so pretty outside because ...........so was it from inside. Beautiful Simply!!!!

I deserve a tiara…. because I am worth it

I stand at my bus stop today at 8.15 to board the bus to office…yes panting, huffing…lost…and looking at those familiar faces who stand with me on the stop. After a couple of minutes I know I have not missed my bus and flick my daily newspaper and start reading from page 3. Its my regular practice…. might be plain jealous of how theses party animals get time for all this vanity?????? Today I watch some beauty pageant held and all the beauty’s sashaying down the ramp rather fluttering their stuff, all wanting to be winner of the pageant.

Skinny beauty’s’…showcasing their style and looks…but somehow I didn’t feel like saying ‘Wow!!!’ (Or was I green with envy???)

I just folded my paper, and thought about the mad morning rush till now from the time I woke up at 5.15am. Pulled my self out of the bed with great difficulty… then my Surya Namaskar, sweeping the house, rangoli on the doorstep, tea for all, ideas about what should I pack for my son’s tiffin ….for his snacks then his lunch…will he eat???? And yes I committed to my pregnant friend that I get dosas for her today…ok ok…all will be done….
So then I wear my virtual skates and start dashing to all I have to attend to. Its 6.30am. Enter the husband for tea…and it’s given, look out for some compliment from him. But nah! (I pat my shoulder and say he has forgotten to compliment. it was the best tea ever!!) Then the lunch part for son dear. potato sabji and chappati…he enters looks around. Grins, but at least I see a ray of hope in his eyes because he likes potatoes. Ok then, what for snacks?? Breakfast and my friend????? I could actually see her little baby looking at me.

Its 7.10am.
My son’s tiffin done by now…packed and ready for dispatch in his bag.
Now this unborn child who smiles sweetly at me …… waiting for my dosas’.’Yes dear now all the time for you’…. so a quick chatani with the ingredients that I have to put and can sense my mother giving instructions simultaneously…’yes yes’ I tell her I am doing it right.
One dosa after the other I start on the pan…4-5 dosas’ flicked by the husband and the son… in the mean time the tadka for the chutney…. done very carefully as I don’t want the green, the red chilies and the curry leaves to loose their color…..the baby in my mind…when I ask him/her would u like it this way????? Should I add some sugar???. It looks happy from now…so I feel more happy. I tell my self so what if the husband didn’t compliment my tea……the one who still not in this earth will like what I am making

Its 7.45am….
My friends tiffin packed……I dress up ..Start my scooter enroute my bus stop, I meet an old lady, my friend in her early eighties…I wait by to say a small hello and seek her blessings when she asks me why I have not combed my hair??? I realize it then…. but who cares. I reach my bus stop and its 8.05am…. cold as I can feel…my hands numb. Both the hands in my jacket pocket and I walk a small distance. When I meet another friend who awkwardly asks me why I had not combed my hair???? It’s this new hair cut which I tried and I cant mange at all…….. God how do people manage their so called well cut tresses??? I ask myself. There’s a two wheeler standing beside me..i slowly try a quick peep in the rear view mirror..to see my self….but stop myself midway and say..’who cares’….

The unborn winks at me from somewhere, .now that we are friends from morning….and I want to reach office faster to reach him/her. Only to sense him/her give me a genuine smile from all his heart.

These all thoughts while I still have page three and the beauty’s’ on it now under my elbow somewhat crushed…Feeling relieved that my hectic morning chores were completed without letting anyone down. On the way to office I think of the smile I’ll get from the unborn baby as the mother ravenously gulps the dosas’ and am sure that this unborn baby will put the winning tiara on me!!!! I Love you Little one