Quotidian Tales

I must admit here that when we were "on the threshold of being no more," we succeeded in being more…..Unwittingly, the 'eye' preceded the 'I' and for the first time, we realized what it means to not take this life for granted. I t seemed to be over. The doctor had pronounced her dead. A surreptitious surgery beset by infections and indolence, further beefed up by outrageous alterations in her tenderly tactile anatomy. That was a vicious verdict on a not-so-vindictive day. Our senses were getting slaughtered as both of us held on to each other, flickering, yet firm to combat cancer that had reared its serpentine head to seize our mother. The next two weeks were a blur of medical jargon, interminable investigations, cursory calls, and feverish faith. It was decided or perhaps destined. 'Mamoni', as we lovingly called her, would need to be airborne to another city that proposed a prospect that was propitious and prevailing. The surgery took

There are many friends around us. We are unfamiliar with them. Let’s unravel them to appreciate their importance. A s I was browsing through the chapters of my childhood , one of them stood out. "Friends." Perhaps due to its peculiarity and distinctiveness. Coincidence, if you may call it, around the very same time, the celebrations of 'Friendship Day' were going on in full swing. My daughter was coming home every day, almost for a week, with 10-15 friendship bands and rings! Happy to have so many friends and hell-bent on making more. Good for her, I thought. My chapter on friendship is, I must admit, a little different. Of course, it includes my friends from school, neighbourhood, college, tuition, university and so on and so forth. But it reaches beyond that. It is inclusive and expansive in its own way. It nourishes and nurtures itself out of every life experience that it encounters. And before I sound poetic and redundant, I’ll try to explain what I inten

The indefatigable human spirit can conquer any opponent. You just need to believe in it. S he is my Mummy. She is a Mummy to many more. She is not my biological mother. And that makes the relationship beautiful and unique. She is a cancer warrior. She knows that cancer will defeat her soon. Any day, any moment. But until that moment comes, she will fight it with dignity and grace. Looking at her medical condition, I feel even breath has fallen in love with her. And just wants to keep her alive. It's indeed difficult to defeat someone with so much love and positivity. She is alive, throbbing and thrusting. Embracing every minute with the intensity of conquering it. And everything she does is nothing short of a celebration. Be it her love for nature or her desire to dance in the rain. Seriously, she becomes a kid when she sees the skies open up! She gets drenched to the bones whenever she gets a chance to do so. I vividly remember how I had pulled her leg on her s

With years of roles foisted upon her, she has forgotten what it is to be herself A certain Mrs Sen was staring hard at life. Four decades of scathing remarks and constant belittling had reduced her to an entity she could hardly recognise as being her true self. Irritable and lost, all that she could remember of her past was the warmth of her childhood home and the amassing accolades for her performance. Marriage had bestowed on her, activities and engagements, but untimely and unknowingly, halted the flowering of the self. Doing the chores and tweaking her life in the larger interest of the family soon became her habit and the only way to be. And then one day, life seemed to have passed by in a whiff. With her fledgelings flying out of the nest, age and ailments catching up on her, the gnawing presence of the spouse and every morning a span of twenty-four long hours hurled at her, she barely knew what to do. In those yesteryears, she never had the time (though she did

Reward yourself as a parent. Happiness begins with you. I t was an unusually busy day. Working on a gruelling assignment, I was engrossed in the editing process of the photographs. It had to be furnished to the client the following day. A rather pesky nudge distracted me. I turned around to notice my 7-year-old (but threatening to pose as a grown-up) daughter standing right next to me. She was beaming as she broke out the headlines of her day, “I have something for you.” Seconds seemed an eternity to the little one as she struggled with time to divulge the surprise she had in store for me. Hurriedly, she took out a notebook from her school bag. Deftly flipping through a few pages, she halted only when she arrived at the one, the one that was meant for me. It was not a school exercise or some graded sheet. It did not boast of her exceptional performance or clamoured for my attention and appreciation. It was just a few words, randomly chosen by her to express an emotion that