Mary had a little lamb

My Morning routine

Set the alarm for 5.00 AM. Snooze it till 6.00 AM. Walks like a zombie to the bathroom. Splashes cold water to the face. Still sleepy? Pinches self. Ouch. Goes to kitchen. Loads body with caffeine.
The never-ending “to do list” Cook breakfast & lunch Load/unload washing machine (Separate wash for baby clothes) Put clothes out to dry Brooming & Mopping Clean Bathrooms Put dried dishes to the respective cabinets Fold dry clothes Make healthy baby food Wash / Disinfect Toys Clean the high chair Sterilisation of baby bottles/containers Wash dishes Hand-wash certain clothes Finish this post Make a list of groceries to be brought Plan tomorrow’s meals & the list is endless

Babies have a sixth sense                 Babies can read minds. Any attempt to eat in peace will have to wait. Ryan gets a signal alert every time his amma takes that very first bite. For mother’s ‘Lunch is best when served cold’

All things boy-ish                 My new gen baby is all about technology. He loves charg…

The Red Massacre

Here comes valentine's day with people stuffing my newsfeed with cheesy quotes (most of which are googled )and not to forget the pictures of those overly enthusiastic couples wearing red. Irritated with Facebook you end up opening your whatsapp only to find your phone getting stuck  due to the countless valentine's wishes , images and corny gifs. It's so cliche now. Come on, if you really love your partner then everyday should be valentine's day not one out of the three sixty five days. Love yourself, love your partner & do what your heart desires not what the society tells you to. Why  should you behave differently this day than you do another day of your entire life?

                This desperate attempt for validation has crossed it's boundaries so much that even professional photographers are hired to take pictures of the perfect candle lit dinner of the two dressed in their best. The urge to show off is at it's stinking best with …

Every good and perfect gift is from above. James 1.17

It took me longer to write this story than to give birth! The truth is child birth cannot be contained in words. It is entangled with heaps of  emotions . This mysterious storm of pregnancy & childbirth has changed me for good . Anyway I think I deserve a round of applause for completing this post between feeding , diaper change and lack of sleep.

So here goes..

We were asked to come in for an induction at 40 weeks. I was given a sublingual tablet at 5.30am on April 11th and was told that I would be checked again in the next few hours. Since nothing happened for sometime me and rohit figured there was no point in us waiting so we went off to sleep.

At around 6.30 am i started getting a cramp like ache in my lower stomach.We decided to go for a short walk after our breakfast to see if I could get some contractions going. As hours passed by ,the pain grew inside me. It was bad but I was able to bear it so I would call them extreme menstrual cramps.  Those were actually contractions…

Stepping on the ladder towards a healthy heart. ( Saffola healthy heart writing contest)

I slack on the couch in the morning taking pleasure in sipping from my beer bottle and crunching on a packet of Chips as I watch the never ending cascade of television shows. My ‘work at home’ option has made me and my couch inseparable. I have monthly targets to meet. Failing to reach the monthly goal will leave me without a job. Though I’m well aware of this chilling situation I still procrastinate my duties till the last week of the month. It’s like dragging my own feet into fire by putting off everything I’m entitled to be doing.
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That last week of every month is stressful. I become so anxious that I forget to eat food and end up ordering food from outside.  The constant worry about the list of things to do doesn’t allow me to sleep. I stay awake the whole night trying to finish up my work. I have pangs of attacks imagining myself without a job. In those days I feel like a devil has entered my body and sucked out all my happiness leaving me in desolation. There was a po…

the teenage boy and his unspoken love

I think I have a small crush on her.
Wait no.
I definitely have a crush on her.
It started as a small one and it's not that small anymore. I cannot make my heart stop beating those thunder beats though my mind is trying its best to stop this nonsense.
Sometimes I secretly wish she stares at me when I look away.
I feel like I become speechless when I'm near her.
 I have a million  things to tell her but i become breathless at her sight.
It's an amazing feeling.
 It is euphoric. It's addictive.
The best part is I haven't told her about it so I don't need to worry about how she will react. I don't want to scare her away.
So I guess I'll never tell her because I can't handle rejection.
Perhaps she might not be the same if i tell her this.
 But wait !

What if...just what if she has a crush on me as well?

 I wish I could read her mind.
 I think about her everyday.
 I try to hide my feelings.
 I try not to stare.
I search for her face among the crowd.


26, January 2001 [Republic Day]
 Place: Baroda, Gujarat

                                 As usual I was struggling to write an essay in Gujarati. I despised attending tuition classes on holidays but I was left with no choice. My low marks in gujarati brought me here every morning at 8. This day was no different than the other days till…. …

......……..Till I felt someone pushing my chair back and forth. I instantly turned around.

 No one was there.

                         I calmed my thoughts and told myself that I must have imagined that. But the look on my teacher’s face who was sitting opposite to me made me realise that it was no imagination. I saw her looking behind her chair with uncertainty. Before I could tell her what I felt, we heard a loud thump from the kitchen. We both hurried off to the kitchen to find the kitchen shelves shaking heavily and vessels flying down one by one. We looked around the house with an insecure mind clueless to what is happening around us.


The dot, turban and the hijab.

               It was another day at middle school. I still had not made any friends. Well , the truth is I really tried but no one  wanted to be my friend. It was lunch time and I was looking for a place to sit in the cafeteria. This is one thing I dread the most. Everyone had a group of friends of their own. The popular group sat in the corner. They were the cheerleaders, basketball players, kids with good looks (most of them wore makeup so cannot really tell if they were really good looking) and then there were the rich kids who only wore only branded clothes , shoes.  I certainly did not belong there because I didn’t have the skinny body type which those cheerleaders had. Forget sports. I cannot even do ten push-ups straight. I wore clothes which I got on sale from JCpenny and not Armani, Gucci or Nike. When it came to looks neither did i  wear fake lashes nor did I have hair extensions.  I did not have a tongue piercing, tattoos or coloured silky straight hair. The only thing I w…