Sunday, July 24, 2011

Moss

His were the first arms to hold me with love; his the eyes that gazed at me with affection enough to fill the Universe. His were the lips that kissed my face a million times. His were the shoulders I wept on, his the fingers that wiped away my tears. His was the hand that helped me climb mountains, his the heart that taught me I could do anything I set myself to do.
A rolling stone gathers no moss- my bedrock, he was always there for me. Whenever I see Moss, I can feel the presence of My Father.

_____
drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

More photographs, here.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Will the system be forced to change?

Most people seem to believe that the fact that life went on as normal the day after the bomb blasts  speaks of the 'resilience' of the city.
I do not agree. People get on with life, because they do not have the choice not to. Who has the time to mourn for the dead when you need to keep running just to survive. Fear and anger are accessories you don only when you feel there is a point to be served by wearing either of them.

But if enough people are angry, would not the system be forced to change?
_____
drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

The Power of Social Media

Yesterday three bombs exploded in three of the most crowded areas of Bombay during the most crowded hour of the day. The phone network came crashing down- whether jammed with calls, or blocked, nobody knows. But unlike previous times, there was twitter and there was Facebook. Co-ordinating volunteer effort, seeking and sending information, preventing rumours from taking over, connecting people wanting and offering help. The flurry of SMSes soon died down- people used the social media to exchange information, keeping the phone lines free for urgent calls.

Always underestimated the power of the social media. Not any more. It rocks!
_____
drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Two years ago, today

Life was beautiful. I had just started working full-time. The kids were settled in school. I was healthy, and happy. Things could not have been better.
And suddenly, I hemorrhaged. One moment fine, standing in a pool of blood the next. Doctor's visits, path scans. Having to hear the dreaded C-word. Being forced to stay cheerful for the sake of the hubby and kids. The dread of surgery, the uncertainty of waiting for the biopsy results.
But worse of all, learning that I was mortal. That anything could happen to me anytime.
Two years later, the date still haunts me.
_____
drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Being a Mother

The kids were both in a good mood.
"You are a Princess", said my younger one giving me a hug.
"No, you are a Queen", said the older one pushing his brother away so he could hug me.
"I'm not a Princess, or a Queen", I laughed. "I am just your Mamma."
"But you are as pretty as a princess", said one, "and as kind as a queen", asserted the other.
Why I couldn't just be Mamma, I don't know. Because flattering though it is to being called a Princess and a Queen, being a mother is so much harder.
_____
drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Who remembers the names?

Tropospehere, stratosphere, mesosphere, ionosphere, thermosphere, exosphere. Do you even remember these terms from all those years ago when you crammed them up before your geography examination? Things come a full cycle. This time I am the one helping my child cram the terms.
Why? To what purpose? It is nice that kids know and understand things? But do the terms really matter? And if there are terms to learn, can anyone remember the details?

I wish seven year olds could just colour the layers of the atmosphere different colours, and not learn the names till much later. If at all!
_____
drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Monday, July 4, 2011

The courage it takes

The doorbell rang. I could hear someone sobbing outside. I opened the door. "Help me. My husband is....." sobbed the lady who had just moved in next door. I couldn't hear her, but wordlessly followed her into her apartment. Her husband wasn't lying in a pool of blood, or having a heart attack. "My husband is hitting me", she had said.

All I could do was hold her tight, and let her cry her sorrow away. I marvel at the courage it must have taken to approach a stranger for help. And hope they can sort it out. Or not.
_____
drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

It takes all kinds....

It was 4:45 in the morning. The guy and I reached the cab-stand at almost the same time. For nearly ten minutes, there were no cabs, and when one finally arrived, we decided to both get on.
He was reeking of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Had clearly spent the night at a party that had just broken up.
I was in my running clothes, rested after a good night's sleep.
His previous night was ending. My new day was beginning.
Each thought the other insane- from their point of view, each was right. Takes all kinds to make a world.
_____
drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

A Male Child!

There was a time when female infanticide was the norm. In certain communities today, there are still rituals around infanticide.
Then technology advanced. It became easy to determine the sex of an unborn child. Female foeticide took over. There are laws to curb it, but when did anyone ever care for what the legal system demands?

But for those who mistakenly believe they are carrying a male child, and would rather not get rid of the female child, there is now a new solution. Sex change operations. So what if they will never produce spermatozoids, the children are now male!
_____
drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Friday, July 1, 2011

The Pieta

As a piece of sculpture, Michelangelo's Pieta is all wrong. Of the two people it depicts, the face of one is not visible, the other looks a couple of decades younger than she actually is. The proportions do not quite make sense- a real man could not have fitted onto a woman's lap in quite the way he does. But, the Pieta is also the single most beautiful piece of religious sculpture I have seen.

Most of the time, you have to follow the rules. But sometimes, you have to just follow your heart.... after making peace with the rules.
_____
drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

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